Page 2 of The Milliner and the Griffin Rider

At first, Chloe had been inclined to look on Gertrude favorably for that reason alone. But it took only a few months before Chloe was chafing unbearably beneath Gertrude’s repressive roof, bound in by her strict and unnecessary rules. And when Chloe saw what the environment was doing to her more vulnerable sisters, she had begun making plans.

It had taken more than a year for the four sisters to turn the few assets their parents had left them into coin. It was far from enough to provide all four of them with a home and a future, but it had been just enough for Chloe to travel to Everard and begin a fledgling business.

As a gentleman’s daughter, she had been fortunate to have any useful skills at all. But Chloe had always been fascinated by different hat styles and from a young age had enjoyed making over her and her sisters’ hats—turning old ones into new creations. She found it fascinating how the right—or wrong—hat could make or break an outfit, and how a new hat could make an old dress seem fresh again.

She had therefore been delighted when her parents hired a temporary seamstress to make fresh wardrobes for all their daughters and the woman turned out to be the daughter of a milliner. While the woman had chosen to go into dressmaking herself, when badgered by a youthful Chloe, she had admitted to being well versed in the creation of hats and willing to show the young girl how the process was done. When her parents saw Chloe’s skill at the task and her joy in creation, they had turned a blind eye to lessons which were unusual for a gently born girl, even extending the contract with the seamstress so she ended up staying with the family for two full years.

Since arriving in Everard, Chloe had often thought of her old teacher with gratitude, even as she slaved tirelessly to raise enough funds to bring her sisters to the town to join her. She would need to earn enough to rent a small house or apartment before that could happen, though. Chloe herself might be able to sleep in the backroom of the store, but the four of them couldn’t possibly all do so.

“I can’t imagine any of your sisters would have the courage for this role.” Maddie wrung her hands yet again. “I only wish I did.”

“Dear Maddie,” Chloe said with a rush of affection. “I don’t begrudge you in the least. I’m sure I’m the right choice for the role. You will keep our business going and that is quite enough for your side.”

When disaster had fallen upon them, and they had realized that one of them would need to win the affections of the Duke, there had never been any question that the role would fall to Chloe. Maddie was not only a full decade older than Chloe—putting her a number of years older than the Duke himself—but she had recently begun receiving a most eligible gentleman caller in the form of Everard’s newest apothecary.

“And besides, you have Ammy.” Chloe tried not to sound jealous, managing wistful instead. “Everyone who comes in admires her, and it makes you memorable in a way no costume change could mend.”

Maddie smiled and stroked the fur of the vendrillon wrapped around her neck, half-hidden beneath her hair. It was true that the rather grandly named Amaranth rarely allowed Maddie to go anywhere without her. The small creature shadowed Maddie wherever she went, only occasionally letting Chloe hold her when Maddie was indisposed.

She seemed to be napping, the pink of her feathers flashing from Maddie’s hair when Maddie moved. The sight of it made Chloe smile, as it always did. In their first year of life, vendrillons chose a human to become their lifelong friend and companion, showing utter loyalty from that moment on. They were famous for paying no regard to rank or wealth when making their choice, and Chloe wasn’t in the least surprised that one had recognized the sweetness beneath Maddie’s shy veneer.

It helped that Ammy was a particularly ornamental vendrillon, perfect for a seamstress. Like all vendrillon, she would have been born much more drab—small, brown and furred, like an otter built for land. But shortly after birth, she had begun incorporating certain aspects of another animal—one that had caught her interest in those first weeks. Since there was no telling what animal would interest a young vendrillon, or what characteristic of that animal would subsequently develop, this unique trait ensured every vendrillon was different. But Ammy was more different than most.

They always chose a human to bond with during their first year of life, but Ammy had been almost a full year old before Maddie encountered her in one of Everard’s parks and was instantly claimed by the eye-catching creature. She didn’t know where Ammy had started her life or how she had managed to encounter a flamingo. But Chloe could think of no other animal that could have resulted in the dramatic pink feathers that covered Ammy’s back and haunches, blending with the fur on the rest of her.

The vendrillon was excellent for business. Even the most noble-born ladies stooped to coo over her coloring, declaring Amaranth the perfect name. In private, Chloe and Maddie always called her Ammy, since the small creature showed no grand tendencies beyond the eye-catching feathers. Her greatest skill, beyond attracting attention, was finding the buttons that both girls were forever losing in corners of the store or under furniture.

Chloe didn’t actually envy Maddie the possession of a vendrillon specifically. But she had always dreamed that one day one of Wynkara’s more fantastical residents would claim her as a life companion. As a girl, she had even dreamed of being chosen by an oncaryx.

Even her beloved Papa had laughed at that one, telling her that oncaryxes almost always chose guards, given their inanimate forms ranged from daggers all the way up to great battle-axes. But Chloe had thought a slim, elegant dagger would suit her just fine. She could have worn it at her belt while in its weapon form and around her neck when in its animal form, as Maddie did with her vendrillon. Surely an oncaryx that became a dagger would be one of the smaller animals—a sleek mink or polecat rather than a wolverine.

As she grew older, her dreams had shifted to a unicorn—a mount which could offer her a far smoother ride than she had ever experienced on her trusty old mare. But now that she lived in town, a unicorn was out of the question. There was barely room for Chloe herself in the store’s backroom, so she couldn’t possibly keep a unicorn in the middle of Everard.

And when she had idly suggested a phoenix to Maddie—appealing because it was one of the rarest and most mysterious of creatures—Maddie had shuddered in horror.

“Fire!” she had said. “In a store full of dresses, hats, and bolts of cloth?”

Chloe had been forced to concede the point.

“If you succeed in winning over the Duke,” Maddie said now, correctly reading Chloe’s wistful expression, “I’m sure you’ll have a chance to meet the griffins of the Duke’s squad, at least.”

Chloe perked up at that suggestion. Once she had the Duke’s attention, it was essential to their plan that she show great interest in the griffins, so she would surely get the chance to meet them.

“Riding on the back of a griffin,” she marveled. “Wouldn’t that be something!”

“You mustn’t ask for that!” Maddie said in sudden alarm. “It’s well known that the Duke’s griffins never take passengers. Only the members of the squad themselves ever ride them, so you mustn’t offend the Duke by suggesting it.”

“Don’t worry,” Chloe said. “I won’t forget my purpose.”

She and Maddie exchanged a weighted look. Chloe didn’t like the idea of deception—she was much too straightforward a person for that. But she had been forced to concede that the only source of griffin eggs was the Duke’s griffin squad, and the only way he would ever agree to give one to Chloe was if he fancied himself in love with her.

And if Chloe didn’t procure a griffin egg within a month’s time, she would lose her new store and everything she had worked for—and any chance of saving her sisters along with it.

Two

Chloe slipped out through the back of the store, entering High Street from a narrow side alley. She had barely extracted herself from Maddie’s last-minute attack of qualms, and she couldn’t afford to be late. Her initial meeting with the Duke of Everard was the most important, so she had put a great deal of thought into it. But for her plan to succeed, it needed to be timed perfectly.

She couldn’t help a swell of amused affection for Maddie, though. Only someone as painfully shy as the seamstress could possibly find the Duke so terrifyingly intimidating. Chloe herself was far more worried about successfully appearing awed and impressed by him. She was going to have to use every ounce of acting skills she possessed.