“Tamsin! You are out of line. You will take sapphire and be grateful that you’re among the top three. And you will watch your language.”

   Even Tamsin realized she’d gone too far. “Yes, Mistress Masterson. I apologize. But I can retake the exams I did poorly on, right?”

   “Yes, of course. Every girl can. Though, I’ll be honest, with a ninety-nine percent rating, there’s isn’t much else to achieve.”

   Tamsin lifted her chin proudly. “Perfection.”

   “Poor Tamsin,” I murmured. I didn’t like seeing my friend upset, but it was hard to feel too bad for her. No one could doubt her excellence, and although the top three girls attended more exclusive events, I knew Tamsin would have no difficulty meeting elite men. When Adelaide didn’t respond, I glanced over and saw her watching Mistress Masterson with a pensive expression.

   “I’m going to ask if I can retake them too,” Adelaide finally said.

   “Really?” Her face was too earnest for me to suspect her of joking, but I couldn’t imagine she’d want to go through all of that stress again. “You scored in the middle. That’s not bad.”

   Adelaide simply shrugged and walked over to get Mistress Masterson’s attention. Someone tugged at my sleeve, and I found one of the dressmaker’s assistants standing by me. “You’re Mirabel, right?” She held up an armful of gold and yellow fabric in all sorts of textures and sheens. “I’m here to measure you. They assigned you topaz.”

   The fabrics looked so unreal, I was afraid to touch them. I’d been in awe of the clothes we’d worn so far at Blue Spring, but this was a whole new level. A storybook level. The seamstress had just finished measuring my waist when Miss Garrison strolled up and made a click of dismay.

   “This won’t do. This won’t do at all.”

   Mistress Masterson, overhearing, joined us. “What’s the matter?”

   Miss Garrison gestured to a swathe of goldenrod velvet I held. “She can’t wear these kinds of yellows with an olive complexion. Do you want her to look sick? Her skin is flawless. You need to show it off and change her stone. Give her a deeper color. Or even a brighter one.”

   After more petitioning, the seamstress convinced Jasper and Mistress Masterson to change me to a garnet and clothe me in reds. Clara, formerly a garnet, hated yellow and regarded me with open contempt. I kept a dignified expression until I heard Jasper say, “Garnet is a little more of a common stone, so it might be fitting.”

   The afternoon became a nonstop whirl. Along with our measurements, Miss Garrison assessed all sorts of details. She’d brought more fabric samples in each color palette than she needed and had to fine-tune which looked best in each girl’s set. She draped us in silks and velvets, pairing them with gems and jewelry that made my head swim. She even took notes on our faces and figures, determining what types of necklines and sleeves would be most flattering.

   “Well, well,” she said, scrutinizing my figure, “aren’t you a standout.”

   “I . . . I’m sorry, what?”

   She gestured to my chest with a swatch of red silk. “You can fill out a corset, no question. We’ve got to push and squeeze some of these girls to make it look like they’ve got any sort of cleavage at all. But you’ve got the real thing, and we can show it off. They wear lower necklines over there, you know.”

   “Er, ah, thank you? But I’m sure there are others . . . that is, I mean everyone knows that Ingrid . . .” I couldn’t finish.

   “Her over there? Oh, yes. We’ve actually got to rein her in. Too much, if you can believe it. And she’s so short that it makes her look unbalanced—like she’s going to fall over. You’ve got enough here to catch the eye, and you’re tall and slim enough that all the proportions work perfectly.”

   I was too mortified to respond.

   “Don’t look like that,” she said. “We won’t do anything indecent, but my job is to make the most of what everyone’s got. You’ll thank me later.”

   “What a day,” I told my roommates when I was finally allowed the safety of my bedroom. Tamsin had taken comfort in the thought of retakes and now brimmed with energy. “Didn’t all that . . . unsettle you, even a little?” I asked. I couldn’t bear to tell them of Miss Garrison’s continued analysis of my cleavage. Even recalling it made me cringe.

   “I was born for this,” Tamsin declared. “The only unsettling part was that I was wearing blue, not green.”

   Adelaide, stretched out on her bed, gave an exasperated sigh. “Green, blue. It’s not life or death.”

   Tamsin’s expression said otherwise. “Easy for you to say, Miss Amethyst. You look ravishing in purple. You’re lucky to have landed where you did.”

   Adelaide didn’t respond, and I realized she must not have mentioned her retake plans.

   Tamsin soon found out about those plans when she and Adelaide both showed up the following week for retakes, along with a handful of other girls. Tamsin was floored, especially when she found out Adelaide wanted to redo all the exams, not just a few subjects. What actually shocked me the most was seeing Adelaide study just as diligently as Tamsin.

   During the time that was going on, my only real duties were to show up for my dress fittings. My beautiful red wardrobe increased day by day, and along with being overwhelmed by the opulence, I just couldn’t get over the price of it all. One dress would’ve fed us for months back in Osfro.

   “How do they afford all of this?” I asked Miss Garrison at one point. “Do our contract prices really cover the cost of clothes and passage to Adoria?”

   “Yes, actually. And then Mister Jasper gets even more back by either selling your dresses or reusing the materials for next year’s girls.” She looked up from her hemming to study the scarlet velvet gown I wore. It sat off the shoulder and glittered with beaded embellishment. “Although Mister Charles insists that each girl can keep one, if she wants, for her wedding. This would be an excellent one.”