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Faith made a tongue-clicking noise from across the table but didn’t comment beyond that. Nevelyn knew she was referring to Tessa Brood. Even if she was not the most famous actress on set, Tessa was easily the most highly ranked person at the Nodding Violet. Second in line to the Brood throne. All that power didn’t matter to the elder seamstresses. The girl had become Kersey and Faith’s target for derision because of her excessive wardrobe requests. Neither of them would have ever dared to speak this way to her face, but they felt they were the masters of this small corner of the universe—which loosened their tongues regularly.
Nevelyn collected the black dress and headed upstairs. Her stomach turned uncomfortably as she walked. She’d seen Tessa Brood several times already, but this would be her first face-to-face confrontation with the enemy. Not some imagined encounter or a fever dream. This would be terrifyingly real—another person, speaking and moving and breathing the same air as her. Nevelyn steadied herself before heading upstairs. Her next maneuver required perfect timing. She lingered in the common rooms of the backstage. Checked her mailbox and delightedly saw a note from Garth. She did not reach down for it, but the thought of opening the note later had her smiling.
Every now and again, Nevelyn’s eyes would dart to the second door, down the hallway on her right. She was waiting for Tessa Brood to depart. After thirty awkward minutes, she was rewarded. The Brood heiress appeared. She was straight-backed, her hair pulled up in a flawless braid, her chin jutting out—pale and beautiful. She wore the most fashionable leggings Nevelyn had ever seen. The fit ran loose down her legs but fell well short of her ankles, displaying a pair of lovely red shoes. Her top was black, the fabric crossing from hip to opposite shoulder on both sides, leaving plenty of that nearly translucent skin on display. Nevelyn knelt down, pretending to inspect her mail slot, as Tessa passed by. There was a fine tap-tap as she walked across the hardwood. Nevelyn waited until the girl vanished into another actor’s room.
And then she was moving.
Tessa’s door was still open. This was common. No one really brought valuables to the playhouse. Too many people and moving pieces. It was impossible to account for lost items. The lights were on, glowing too bright. There was a standing wardrobe to the right of the mirror. Nevelyn reached up and hooked the prepared dress’s hanger on the highest latch, letting the fabric dangle down the front for a proper display. She quickly smoothed out any creases and stepped back. All she could do now was wait.
A hundred different sounds reached her ears. She heard actors in the two neighboring rooms. On her right, someone sang a lovely melody—bright and hopeful. On her left, there was a garbled growl. It sounded like someone attempting the same line over and over. Twice she heard footsteps, but she knew they weren’t the right ones. Too soft or too slow or too padded. Each time, she stepped forward and pretended to be in the middle of the act of hanging up the dress again. The interlopers passed the room without comment.
Finally, she heard the slight tap-tap of Tessa Brood’s shoes. Nevelyn steeled herself, stepped away from the dress once more, and pretended to be assessing it one final time. She tilted her head ever so slightly. She also kept her back to the doorway, so it would look as if she had no idea that Tessa Brood was behind her. She waited for the moment those tap-tap sounds faded. She could feel Tessa paused at the threshold, noticing someone else was in her space.
Nevelyn let out a dramatic sigh and delivered her line.
“Such a shame.”
She turned to find Tessa Brood with one eyebrow raised like a knife.
“Such a what?”
Nevelyn feigned surprise and embarrassment. She didn’t need to pretend to be afraid. She was afraid. This woman was a part of the family that had ruined hers. She was also the key to their revenge. So much was tangled in her words that they came out with all the proper emotion.
“I’m so sorry, my lady. I was just delivering Kersey’s dress for you. I didn’t say anything. I was just talking to myself. She made all the necessary alterations. Begging your pardon.”
She set chin to chest, all subservience, and tried to slip back out into the hallway. Tessa Brood was far too proud for that. “Wait, girl.”
Nevelyn stopped like a fish with a hook through its lip. She hunched her shoulders as she turned, putting on a polite but trembling smile. “Yes, my lady?”
“I heard you. You said the words ‘such a shame.’ What did you mean by that?”
Nevelyn shook her head like a nervous hen. “Oh, it’s really not my place, my lady. I’m an assistant. I really ought to be getting back to the seamstress room.…”
“I have asked you for your opinion. You will give it before you leave this room.”
Flawless. Nevelyn took a step closer to her enemy. She swallowed theatrically before gesturing to the dress—allowing Tessa Brood to see the way her hand trembled.
“It’s just… My lady, I’m really not comfortable making comment.”
“You already commented. Finish the job.”
“It’s old-fashioned,” Nevelyn sputtered. “Even with the requested alterations—which certainly helped—it’s simply not suited to you, my lady. I’ve seen some of the rehearsals. This dress. It just doesn’t fully capture your character in the opera, nor does it display your beauty properly.” She quickly set a hand over her mouth, as if she’d uttered something forbidden. “Oh, please don’t tell Kersey I’ve told you that. I’ll be skinned alive, my lady.”
Tessa Brood had turned back to the dress. She was making her own careful examination. Nevelyn saw the way the girl’s lips pursed with dissatisfaction.
“Opening night is nearly upon us,” Tessa said, more to herself. “It doesn’t help to hear this now.”
“My apologies, my lady. I really didn’t mean—”
“It is not a critique of you. It is a critique of your predecessor. Stop sniveling. You aren’t in any trouble.”
Nevelyn went silent. She kept her eyes pinned to a small square of fabric on the floor. She was doing her very best not to smile at how well all of this was going. The seed had been planted. Now all she needed was to be dismissed. Allow the natural momentum to run its course.
“What’s your name, girl?”
It was hard not to flinch. First, at the fact that she kept calling her girl, even though Nevelyn felt certain they were only a few years apart from each other. She knew it was less a measure of age and more a measure of power. Tessa Brood was dealing with someone beneath her, and that was how people like her talked to people they thought were beneath them.
But she also flinched because she’d been so close to answering that question with her true name. Some small part of her wanted to say it out loud, bold and bright. I am Nevelyn Tin’Vori, and I have come to kill you all. Pride burned in her chest for a brief moment. But now was not the time.
