She and Val headed for the circular central room. A lot of the women were already waiting. Maris and Helena sat on the cream divan in the middle of the room. They both wore green gowns, Maris’s a shade darker than Helena’s. Helena’s hair had grown out a bit; she’d pinned it into little spikes with sparkling silver clips. Maris’s black hair curled in a braid to her shoulder, silver ribbons threaded through it.

“It’s almost time,” Serina said. “Can you believe it?”

“No,” Maris said, laughing. “But for the first time in my life, I’m actually looking forward to a ball.”

Serina left the chambers, Val just behind her, and headed down the carpeted hall toward Malachi’s room. When they reached the door with the carved fish, she paused. “You mind waiting out here for a moment?”

“Of course not,” he said. He had his own weapons, a firearm and a dagger, strapped to his waist. He pivoted and stood with his back to the wall beside the door, like the guard he’d once been. He still had the straight shoulders and stiff bearing when he wanted to. It made her feel safe, knowing he was here.

She knocked on the door. Malachi opened it, resplendent in a white suit threaded with gold. “There you are. She’s been waiting for you.”

Serina patted his arm. “I forgot how long this getup takes,” she said, gesturing to her dress. She headed for the large dressing room off the bedroom. She could hear Nomi humming.

There’d been no discussion about Nomi and Malachi moving into the Superior’s chambers; Nomi couldn’t forget the memory of Asa’s body tumbling off the balcony, and Malachi was more comfortable in his rooms than in the opulence of the Superior’s.

“Nomi?” Serina called as she entered the dressing room.

Nomi sat on a little stool, her huge periwinkle pouf of skirts surrounding it, as Angeline worked on her hair.

“Serina!” Nomi cried, meeting her eyes in the mirror.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Serina said. “My dress wouldn’t cooperate.”

“You look beautiful,” Nomi said.

Serina smiled at her sister’s reflection. “So do you.”

Angeline slipped a sparkling pin into the twist of Nomi’s hair. “All done,” she said. “Should I wait outside?”

“Yes, please,” Nomi said. “Thank you, Angeline.”

Angeline had agreed to stay on as Nomi’s handmaiden, her face flushing a brilliant shade of red when Nomi explained that she would be paid wages for her work. Ria and all the rest of Asa’s unwilling Graces had gone home to their families. Cassia was still here—she hoped to catch the eye of one of Malachi’s wealthy merchant friends.