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445 pages, Hardcover
First published September 2, 2014
My frail resolve wavers. I think about what sort of person I want to be. I owe Lucien my life, and I will be loyal to him until the end. But Ash has nothing to do with that. Ash is separate, a part of my life that is just mine. There are things that are bigger than us, it’s true. Saving the surrogates. Destroying the royalty. Is loving Ash worth the risk?You get one fucking guess. What do you think she chooses?
My skin is ivory, an odd contrast with my hair color, and my eyes are violet. I don’t need a mirror to tell me that. They’re what I was named for.Our heroine is the fantastically-named Violet Lasting, who I will henceforce address as the html color code of #800080, the code for purple. Why? Because I can't type Violet Lasting without gagging, that's why.

I exhale. “197.”#800080 is bought by one of the wealthiest rulers, an extraordinary woman, The Duchess, for an unheard-of price.
Raven grins. “Looks like we’re hot commodities.”
“Sold!” the auctioneer cries, and all my muscles turn to jelly. “Sold for six million diamantes. To the Duchess of the Lake.”And #800080 is so fucking perfect, so brilliant, so smart. So excellent at the magical art of Augury (wut lol), that for the Duchess, she is a prize beyond compare.
“Yes,” the Duchess murmurs, almost to herself. “I think you are exactly what I’ve been looking for."#80080 has the most dreadful existence in the world. #800080 can't believe the injustice of it all. Her body is not her own. She is a slave, a possession, there to be used, abused, and thrown away.
“Yes . . .” The Duchess runs a manicured finger down her cheek. “I’ve been waiting for you,” she says, her dark eyes fixed on mine. “For nineteen years.
“She must believe you are on her side. You have to make her trust you. It is our best chance of getting you out as quickly and safely as possible.”So naturally, with this grand plot in mind, #800080 must focus all her energy on looking at her lovely reflection.
The stranger in the mirror has been transformed.Exploring her enormous wardrobe. Wearing glamorous new nightgowns
I blink rapidly, trying to reconcile her with the image I had of myself in my head. The image of a pretty girl, slightly plump, full face, big eyes. The woman I am looking at now is beautiful. Stunning. Her cheeks seem thinner, molded to accent her high cheekbones, and her eyebrows arch delicately over luminous eyes, lined in rich purple with accents of lilac and gold. Her lips are glossed in pale pink, and her hair tumbles over her shoulders in thick curls, one side pinned up with a jeweled clip, encrusted with amethysts that form the shape of a butterfly. There is a shimmer to her skin, almost like she’s glowing.
I’m wearing a white silk nightdress, not unlike the one I wore at Southgate, embroidered with green and gold thread. The lady-in-waiting holds up a jade dressing gown, and I slip into it. Now I match this room.Wearing lovely dresses.
At five to seven, I stand outside the doors to the ballroom dressed in a pale green gown that makes the footman’s eyes pop before he can stop himself. The bodice leaves my shoulders bare, and the skirt falls to the floor in layers like the petals of a flower, their edges woven with glittering crystals. A choker of diamonds wraps around my neck and diamond earrings hang from my ears.And making judgmental calls on other people wearing beautiful dresses.
“My goodness, isn’t she just a vision,” the Electress gushes. She wears a gown of rich crimson velvet with a large dragon embroidered on its skirts—it seems like too much material for her small frame—and her lips are painted bright red. Like at the Auction, I am strongly reminded of a child playing dress-up.#800080 is powerful, her magic in Augury is strong. She can change the world. Or she can explore the palatial mansion in which she is imprisoned.I want to explore a little more of this palace on my own, decide for myself where to go and what to see. Several maids are cleaning the windows that look out onto the garden, and I flit past the doors, pausing in between them to make sure I’m not seen.With so much power, so much strength, that is being built up and trained every day, #80080 can do extraordinary things.
Standing in the doorway is a boy. Not a boy, a young man—he looks to be about the same age as the Duchess’s son. Tall and slender, with tousled brown hair and a strong jaw. His mouth curves a bit at the corners, like he’s holding back a smile. One hand rests in the pocket of his pants and his shirt is open at the collar.Things like...fall into insta-love. Beautiful Boy Ash is a slave himself. He is a companion, a sexual boy toy to wealthy, older woman (who are, naturally, disgusting and nasty and so unlike the pure, beautiful, and virgin-Mary-like #800080). Together, they are not strong. Together, they are a danger. This is forbidden love, if there ever was one. He could be severely punished if they were caught. She could be killed at the Duchess' whim. And forget about her grand rescue mission.
But it’s his eyes that have me pinned in place. They are a soft gray-green, and they look at me in a way I haven’t been looked at since I started my life in the Jewel—like I am a girl, a person, not a surrogate. And yet, it’s something more than that; they look at me in a way that makes me feel hollow and strangely buzzy.
“Violet,” he says, and when he looks in my eyes, my stomach somersaults. “I think . . . I think I love you.”
I feel myself dissolve into a thousand molecules, amazed at how three small words can completely alter my state of being.
“I think I love you, too,” I whisper.
"I've never met anyone like you before," I say. I blush furiously - that didn't come out the way I'd intended.
I stare at my reflection - pink cheeks, tiny smile, bright eyes... the girl in the mirror looks truly happy, for the first time.
I've never thought much about kissing, but the idea of Ash's lips against mine --
I giggle.

It's only been a couple of hours since I met him, but he's somehow even more handsome than I remember. My whole body feels like it's blushing.
The pain of this is a sharp, physical thing, almost like the aftermath of an Augury except that it's not my head that feels like needles are being shoved into it.
"I think I love you"
"I want you forever, Ash."

"I have absolutely no idea what it must be like to be pregnant."
Her voice is sweet and she sings a traditional Marsh-song, one we all know.
[...]
Two other girls join in.
The first time I coughed up blood, I thought I was dying. But it stops after a year or so. Now I only have the occasional nosebleed.
1. Iron bars in the shape of roses on the windows of the facilities where the girls lived until it was time for their Auction.<——beautifully ironic.
2. The use of real folk songs—I cannot hear or read the lyrics of “The Water is Wide” without getting goosebumps.
3. The flashback to the girl getting her head chopped off for trying to escape becoming a Surrogate gave me goosebumps too:
The girl was wild, long black hair tangled around her face, framing eyes of a brilliant, almost shocking, blue. There was something fierce and untamed about her appearance. She couldn’t have been more than a few years older than me.
She didn’t fight of struggle against the two Regimentals restraining her. She didn’t cry, or beg. She looked strangely peaceful. When they put her head on the block, I could swear she smiled. The magistrate asked her if she had any last words.
“This is how it begins,” she said. “I am not afraid.” Her face saddened, and she added, “Tell Cobalt I love him.”
Then they chopped off her head.
4. Violet’s first cello performance . . . YEP, more goosebumps.
5. I’m sure there’s probably some female version of the male occupation of “companion” in this world, but in this story, it’s the male version in the spotlight, which is still terrible, but also refreshing somehow.
6. I saw that twist at the end coming, but it was still a very cool twist.
1. The “inexplicable” and “presumably” parts of the world-building. We’re given no explanation for the lack of any other cities, or how this one manages to have marshland in concentric rings with the rolling hills and vineyards of farmland. Mighty convenient that . . .
2. Violet’s eyes are violet. This is a personal peeve of mine, b/c NO SUCH THING. No, not even Elizabeth Taylor. Her eyes were very, very blue, NOT purple. So. Unless it’s an alien or some type of Fae creature, if it has violet eyes, I’m going to roll mine.
3. If a noun isn’t named for exactly what it is, or some obvious attribute—industrial part of the city is called Smoke, farm part of the city is called Farm, Violet has violet eyes, etc.—it’s named some other animal, vegetable, or mineral. Raven and her twin brother Crow. The royals are all named after precious gems, or in one case, rare and expensive wood—Ebony. It’s weird and distracting.
4. Lucien is Violet’s very own Cinna. And yes, I realize that “Lucien” is not an animal, vegetable, or mineral, but he is also property, and I have suspicions about what his real name is.
5. The Surrogates have their own version of District Twelve’s three-fingered salute.
6. The “It only takes one small stone to start an avalanche,” and, “one crack spreads until the whole wall crumbles,” lesser versions of, “It only takes a spark.”
7. For a smart girl, Violet is incredibly dense sometimes.
8. The insta-love. It’s not as bad as most, but it is still, undeniably, insta-love.
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I can only stare. His mouth curves into a full smile and I feel my lungs contract, making it very difficult to breathe.
I've never thought much about kissing, but the idea of Ash's lips against mine--
I giggle.
I look up and meet a pair of bray-green eyes, no longer soft but blazing. Ash doesn't look away, and neither do I. His gaze is fierce, and open, and it makes me feel alive. He isn't looking at a surrogate--he's looking at me.
It's only been a couple of hours since I met him, but he's somehow even more handsome than I remember. My whole body feels like it's blushing.
"Violet, they do not tell you anything at Southgate. They do not even allow you to look at yourself in the mirror. The less you know, the less identity you have, the easier you are to control."