“And you said the judges decide who gets these workers?”

   “Yes, based on who we think is the best fit. Interested petitioners go out of their way to meet with judges and make their cases for why they need workers, what kind, for how long. That sort of thing. And depending on the extent of their motivation, we go from there.”

   “The extent of their motivation . . .” I noted the gold tooth again, as well as his overall presentation. Velvet suitcoat. Sapphire broach. A judge could make enough to afford a Glittering Court girl, but this judge was doing very, very well. “People give you bribes if you grant them penal workers.”

   “I like to think of them as incentives, not bribes.” He didn’t seem ashamed in the least. “There’s no harm, really. The extra labor improves our society. An extended sentence keeps those elements off the streets. And if I make a little on the side? Well, it keeps me in a lifestyle a pretty young wife would certainly enjoy.”

   He took my silence as agreement. Really, I was pondering the endless ways that system could be abused. It sickened me, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it when I was sent to my next partner.

   “Are you feeling well, Miss Viana?” he asked politely.

   I forced a smile. My new partner wasn’t much older than me and looked sincerely friendly. “Yes, I’m sorry. Just getting tired.”

   “I can only imagine. They put you through a lot.”

   “You’re the first to acknowledge that. Were you born in Cape Triumph, Mister Chambers?” He spoke like many of the men here, a solidly Adorian accent that bore the inflections of tutoring from an Osfridian.

   “I hope you’ll call me Cornelius. Hearing ‘Mister Chambers’ makes me think of my father,” he said with a chuckle. “And yes, I was born here. My father came over almost forty years ago, back when we were still battling the Icori and claiming our rights. Our family is one of the oldest in Adoria. We have tobacco and indigo plantations in both Denham and North Joyce. Our goods are sold all over the world, and true connoisseurs know the quality of our merchandise.”

   “That’s very impressive.”

   He turned sheepish. “Maybe too impressive. Forgive me—I’m overselling to the point of bragging. I’m just anxious to make it clear what a good position you—or anyone marrying into our family—would have.”

   “I think it’s obvious how good it would be,” I said, charmed by his fluster. “And I’m flattered that you’re even considering me. I haven’t seen a lot of that tonight.”

   He looked genuinely surprised. “What do you mean?”

   “Just that a lot of the men here would prefer Osfridian brides, not Sirminican ones.”

   “Fools. Caught up in ignorance and blind prejudice,” he spat. “This isn’t a land that can be governed by antiquated beliefs and rigid policies. We call this a new world for a reason—a world where anyone, of any background, can make something of themselves. That’s what we must be going forward. Those who don’t will be left behind. And considering half of the men in this room started with nothing, they’re hypocrites as well as fools if they think otherwise.”

   “Mister Chambers—Cornelius—you can’t imagine how inspiring it is to—” I stopped as my gaze landed on where his fingers wrapped around my hand. “Is that . . . a wedding ring?”

   “Oh, yes. I was married last autumn. She’s wonderful. I can scarcely believe that—” His eyes widened. “What a babbling idiot I am! I should’ve explained right away. I’m not here tonight for a bride.”

   I looked up from the ring. “So I see.”

   “I’m here to find a bride for my father.”

   “Your . . . father?”

   “Rupert Chambers. He’s looking for a new wife. It’s a long journey from our estate into town, so I came to search on his behalf and save him the trip. He was quite the traveler once, you know. Loves Evaria. Loves Sirminica. So when I saw you, I realized what a great opportunity we had. You’ve seen so much of the world, you’re so refined . . . you’d get along beautifully. He loves a good conversation.”

   I kept the smile plastered on my face and thought back to him saying his father had arrived here forty years ago. “That’s so kind of you. And how fascinating that he’s traveled so much. Was your father a, uh, child when he came to Adoria?”

   “In his twenties. But he went back across the Sunset Sea a number of times. He’s a very cultured man.”

   And an old man, I thought, doing the math. At least sixty.

   “Yes,” said Cornelius, who seemed to guess what I was thinking, “there’d be an age difference, but as I said, marrying into our family would give you every luxury you’ve ever desired. And my father shares my views on the future of this land. No outdated prejudice in our home. We won’t allow any slight to fall your way. All that matters is what a wise and enterprising girl you are—and a beautiful one.”

   “I honestly don’t know what to say.”

   “At least tell me you’ll meet him,” Cornelius pushed. “Add one of our parties to your schedule and talk to him. If it doesn’t work out, then that’s all there is to it, and you’ll be off to some other lavish offer.”

   His face was so earnest, his eyes so big that I couldn’t deny him. “I’d love to meet your father,” I said.

   He spent the rest of our dance lauding his father and their family’s virtues, right up until the moment Aiana sent me on to the next man. By this point, I was exhausted with conversation.

   “Did I see you dancing with Cornelius Chambers?” he asked. This new partner also had a colonial accent, stronger and less refined than Cornelius’s. “He’s a good pal of mine.”

   “He seems very nice,” I said automatically. “I think I’ll be attending a party at his home at some point.”