She tried on her dress and looked in the mirror in the sitting room. The dress clung tightly to her bodice, not very modest. And it fell shorter than it should have, revealing her ankles. However, it was the best dress she owned. Her chapel dress was a somber black affair and the matted color of the dress did nothing for her appearance.
Taking a comb, she brushed her hair and pulled it into a tight bun. She looked at herself and thought it could be worse. With that, she fortified herself for the meeting with the Ms. Striker, who would train her to be the headmistress of the New Edinburgh School of Brides.
***
At ten to three, Shanti peeked out her doorway and realized, again, that she didn’t know where to go. Mrs. Banks had not mentioned where the drawing room was in relation to her suite. She managed to flag down a passing maid who showed her the way. She felt keenly aware of her ankles showing between the hem of the dress and the top of her matching boots. She’d been so excited for new synth-leather boots. A rare treat from her parents - when she turned thirteen - now they were tight and scuffed up. Her parents didn’t replace much when her menarche never came. They silently stopped sending treats and no allowance came at the beginning of the quarter.
She knew that she had no value with no menarche.
It still stung.
The servant didn’t really look at her twice, except to tell her that they’d arrived.
“Would you announce me?” Shanti said.
The girl nodded, knocked on the door and said, “Ms. Shah for Ms. Striker.”
Ms. Striker stood up. She looked to be a tall, fine-boned woman in her mid-forties. She had watery blue eyes and graying wavy blond hair. No obvious defects, but something must be wrong - otherwise she’d be well married off. Even pale blue eyes went for a fair price on the market.
“Ms. Shah,” she said, “please come in and sit down.” The maid curtsied and the headmistress waved her away.
Shanti surveyed the room as she walked. Real mahogany wood table with seats upholstered in velvet. She blushed at her appearance as she stepped between a lovely couch - she didn’t know what material - and a fireplace. A digi-fire burning in it. There seemed to be no end to the opulence here. She couldn’t quite take it all in, so she stepped up to the table and smiled.
Ms. Striker appraised her. “You’re a fine specimen. Why weren’t you married off?”
“I never reached my menarche.”
She nodded. “I see. How unfortunate for you. However, it is fortunate for the school. I am not a permanent replacement. And I was starting to get restless.”
Ms. Striker smiled.
Shanti gave her a shy half-smile.
“Please sit,” she said, and sat herself. She took a sip of her tea and examined Shanti. She watched her take the cup of already poured tea and sip it black. “No cream or sugar?”
“Too expensive,” she said. “My parents never allowed sweets before I left, so taking my tea black is no hardship.”
Ms. Striker smiled. “Smart parents. Too many Hazels and Browns are indulged at home when they are merely destined to be second or third wives…or concubines.”
Shanti nodded and idly wondered why she’d never been married off. Then she said, “Sometimes a Hazel is chosen as first wife.”
She observed Ms. Striker take a small sandwich off the platter and watched as she chewed daintily.
She considered the placed in front of her as she daintily chewed her sandwich.
Shanti took a little sandwich and took a bite.
“You are correct. Though, any Hazel who makes the status of first wife is either an unusually beautiful specimen or is going to a less prestigious family. Possibly as the wife of a merchant,” Ms. Striker said. She wrinkled her nose and took another nibble of her sandwich.
She gave a little shrug. “Ms. Van Stanton never revealed the status when a girl was sent to her marriage bed.”
“Very proper of her. I find it gauche to announce it to the whole school.” She sipped her tea.
Shanti smiled and took another sip of tea. She’d never had tea so pronounced in flavor before.
Ms. Striker continued, “There is much for you to learn.” She cupped her china between her hands. “But I find that Ms. Van Stanton has trained you well in the basics of propriety.”
She beamed. “Thank you.”
“Yes, yes.” She waved her hands dismissively. “Now we must take a day to appropriately attire you.”
She bit her lower lip. “I have no credits.”
“You’re paid quarterly. Your wages come in at the first of First Month, Fourth Month, and Seventh Month and Tenth Month. The fourth quarter is shortened because Twelfth month is for rest. However, there is often a Twelfth month bonus, which is usually generous. If the school is doing well. And all your room and board is paid as part of the girls’ tuition.”
“Wonderful,” Shanti said, folding her hands in her lap.
“It is a comfortable living,” she said, with a smile. “Much better than raising your brothers’ children.”
“Indeed.” She smiled.
Ms. Striker sipped her tea. “While you’re here, I would like to discuss the state of the school.”
Shanti nodded. “Of course.”
She shifted, aware of the fabric tight across her bodice. The headmistress didn’t seem to notice and continued on. “We have a new sewing mistress, Miss Amelia. Then we have a mistress of art, Ms. Jenn. However, we lack a mistress of language and are on the lookout for on that can speak Mandarin.”
“I only know the basics of Mandarin,” Shanti said, biting her lower lip.
“You’ll be fine. The headmistress always has an e-translator chip installed.”
She gave Ms. Striker a wary look, but didn’t say anything.
Ms. Striker just continued on. “We have a dance mistress, Miss Nara, but she is getting a bit older. We may have to replace her soon. Dance instructors are the hardest to keep as they injure so easily.”
Shanti nodded.
“Our music mistress, Miss Serena, is passable. She can sing and play piano, but she is a bit hopeless at woodwinds. We have to hire out someone from the space station at large for woodwinds.”
“What about strings?”
“The same,” she said with a sigh. “And remember it must be a woman. No man may set foot in the school. Except for fathers visiting at parents’ days. Or visitors wishing to discuss brides.”
Shanti looked shocked and crinkled her eyebrows. “Visitors?”
“They have a special entrance - the girls never see.”
She looked at the headmistress and blushed.
“The visitors especially want to observe the girls before they commit and make an offer,” she said, with a smile.
Shanti raised an eyebrow.
“There are cameras in all the classrooms, the gallery, and the dining hall. The sitting rooms may or may not have a camera depending on the discretion of the headmistress. That is pretty standard.” Ms. Striker smiled.
“Oh,” she said, struggling against a shiver.
“A girl never meets her husband until the price is agreed upon and the father is paid.”
Shanti nodded. They all knew they had no choice in the matter. She just felt relief at being spared the fate of being a Slime incubator. Even if the Headmistress didn’t say anything at all - the teachers talked and the girls gossiped.
Ms. Striker continued, “We also have an etiquette mistress, Miss Laurette. She handles carriage as well as propriety.”
“Is there a gallery for taking turns?”
“Yes. Each girl is prescribed a specific number of turns recommended by the nurse. The nurse comes from the wider station once a quarter to do health assessments.”
Shanti nodded.
“If I do not find a language mistress before I leave,” Ms. Striker continued, “be certain they are fluent in Mandarin and English. It wouldn’t hurt if they could speak the Romance languages, either, those never go out of style.”
“We hire out, but at an expense. Much as with music. Any extras are charged to the account.”
“Of course.”
“As you know,” Ms. Striker said, “the girls are charged room and board as well as class fees.”
“Yes,” she said, trying not to fiddle or tap the table. She felt drained from the travel and the long walk to the school.
“Do you know your percentage breakdowns?”
“Yes. Twenty percent for Blues, Fifteen for Hazels, and Ten for Browns.”
“Good,” she said. “The sorting has been delayed until tomorrow afternoon.”
Shanti felt her stomach flip, but said, “Okay.”
“Breakfast will be sent to your room around ten. Then the housekeeper, Mrs. Banks, will accompany you to shop for appropriate attire.”
“Okay,” she said, not wanting to mention the housekeeper’s seeming attitude toward her, which could have been anything from indifference to animosity.
“Tea is around three, and you will be introduced to the girls after the meal. Then you will sort the new arrivals.”
“Great,” she said, trying to stifle a yawn.
Ms. Striker looked at her, closely, then said, “You’re free to go. You may ring the bell if you would like some dinner.”
“Thank you,” she said, standing up.
The headmistress waved her hands at her and Shanti walked out of the opulent drawing room, still in awe.
***
New Edinburgh Space Station, Second Day Fourth Month, 3000 A.E.
The next day, after a late breakfast and coffee, Mrs. Banks met Shanti in her sitting room. “Are you ready to go shopping?”
Shanti looked down at her schooldays clothes and nodded. No longer a schoolgirl, she could not dress like one.
Mrs. Banks gave her a brief smile and led her through the servants’ corridor once again, since she still wore an old schoolgirl uniform. No need for any of the girls to mistake her as a student. The servants already knew from Mrs. Banks to respect her and not question her. The girl who’d woken her this morning had been the most timid servant Shanti ever met before.
Once they left the servants’ entrance to the school. This time they didn’t walk down the main corridor, but turned down a small hallway and walked to an elevator.
“The shopping district is in sector three and we’re in sector two,” Mrs Banks said, walking to the elevator and pressing the up button.
Shanti nodded, but she’d never had to navigate a space station before. She’d always been confined to either her parents’ quarters or the school’s quarters. Penalties for leaving home included a beating. Or expulsion from school… and Shanti's fear had always beaten out her curiosity.
Mrs. Banks walked into the large elevator and gestured for Shanti to follow her. Shanti looked at it, feeling queasy, but did as was expected of her. Thankfully, they were the only people in this small section of the space station. Off the main corridor there would have been more people and the possibility that she would have panicked in public. Mrs. Banks gave her an elusive half-smile and the doors to the elevator closed, enclosing them in a smaller space. Shanti rubbed her arms and jumped as the elevator lurched.
“Are you well?” Mrs. Banks said.
She tried to smile and found that she could merely nod.
“The ride isn’t terribly long,” Mrs. Banks said, and stood, looking forward.
Shanti held her bile for the ten to fifteen minutes it took the elevator to bring them up from sector two to three. She imagined the sectors must be huge.
Mrs. Banks stepped off the elevator and into the small hallway nearly identical to section two, except that it had a great three printed on it instead of a great two. Shanti stepped off as well and staved off the vertigo fairly well. “Where are the shops?”
“They’re off the main corridor,” she said, motioning for Shati to follow her. “However, I thought you’d feel more comfortable coming from the smaller hall. The main corridors lifts are not only huge, they are often packed wall to wall.”
Shanti nodded. “Thank you.”
Mrs. Banks didn’t say anything, but merely walked from the small hallway into the main corridor and Shanti realized why she chose to take the back way to the shops. There were at least double the number of people in the corridor of sector three than there were in sector two. “Why so many more people here?” she said.
“Sector two is residential,” Mrs. Banks said, “and when we came through the station it was in the middle of the work day.”
“Oh,” she said, not having a conception of a work day. She knew her father went to work. He was a doctor, and held the patents to medical discoveries and inventions: part of the reason he could afford to send her to the school. That, and his status among the primary families in the galaxy. Prestige of name helped to get one into the school, if not to pay for it. She knew her mother didn’t work. But she also knew that her father chose to only take one wife, not two. Though he could have had a concubine… hard to say. Men never mixed their wives and concubines, from what she had been made to understood from her teachers.
Mrs. Banks led her past technology shops, food shops, and furniture shops. Shanti looked around the corridor and saw people walking along. She saw women wearing pants! Women of quality didn’t wear pants. Or show their ankles. Or wear their hair short - one of the people - she couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman. Her father would have beat her if she dared to cut her hair like a man. And the lack of modesty pained her. She blushed for the near naked women.
Shanti leaned close to the housekeeper. “Mrs. Banks, how do these women go around half-naked?”
The housekeeper laughed and shook her head. “Not all women are subject to the Global Alliance rules.”
“Global Alliance?” Shanti said, giving her a quizzical look, eyebrows raised.
Mrs. Banks shook her head. “Ms. Striker can tell you more about it. The Global Alliance is the organization that runs the schools.”
“Oh,” she said, and shrugged.
“The first clothes shops won’t be to our taste,” Mrs. Banks said, “We need to be in the shops that sell real silk, real cotton, etc.”
“Can I afford dresses in real cotton?” Shanti said, wide-eyed.
Mrs. Banks nodded. “Yes, you can. And you will need to wear more than the somber brown that you wore to meet with Ms. Striker yesterday. We can find some green or perhaps a teal or turquoise to accent your eyes. That necklace you wore did wonders.”
Shanti nodded. They wandered into a shop and a shop-girl fluttered around them. She looked like a jewel to Shanti - bright and shiny - she’d never seen a woman look so colorful before. Her mother always wore earthen-tone colors. Mrs. Banks smiled and quickly explained the situation to the shop-girl, who led them to a dressing area. She instructed Shanti to wait in the little dressing room and she’d be back with some choices for them.
Mrs. Banks said, “Get undressed and the girl will help you with the new things.”
“Undressed?” she said, voice shaking.
“Do as you’re told, girl.”
“And if I don’t?” She didn’t add, housekeeper on the end, though she thought it loudly.
“Then I shall come in there and do it for you,” Mrs. Banks said. “You must be appropriately attired to meet the girls and their instructors. I will not have you being a disgrace to our school. I’ve been housekeeper in New Edinburgh longer than you’ve been alive.”
Shanti felt the words like little whips and did as she was told. The shop-girl came in and pinched her. “You could stand to gain a few pounds.”
The pinch stung, but the words were also painful. She didn’t reply.
“You have a nice figure, if a bit scrawny,” the shop girl said and dressed her in a turquoise-green similar to her necklace. It fell to the ground as it should, but the sleeves stopped a bit after her elb
ow and the neck didn’t come all the way up her throat, the way all her mother’s clothes had. She tried to protest, but before the words left her mouth, the shop-girl shoved her out of the dressing room to be assessed for Mrs. Banks approval.
“You look well,” the housekeeper said.
Shanti said, “The neck is low.”
“Not another,” Mrs. Banks said and shook her head. “Headmistresses clothing is a tad more liberal than housewives' dress. Right?” She looked at the shop-girl who nodded.
“Yes ma’am,” the shop-girl said, “Governesses and headmistresses have a bit of liberality to their style.”
“Governesses?” Shanti said.
Mrs. Banks said, “Many families outside of the Global Alliance, and even some in the alliance, use governesses to teach young boys when there are no available sisters in the family.”
“What a small family. No sisters, but what about cousins?” Shanti said, knowing her family to be unusually small with only five siblings.
The housekeeper said, “It is somewhat rare, but it happens. Especially if the cousins are planetside. You know the stations don’t tend to encourage mingling with the planets.”
“Unless the planetside people can pay extraordinarily well,” Shanti said, thinking of the girl who went to the slime.
Mrs. Banks nodded. “Exactly.” Then she looked at her and said, “Turn.” Shanti obliged.
They did this ten different times and ended up with three dresses - the green one, a blue one with an “empire” waist, and a brown one. Then they repeated at three other shops - so that Shanti now owned more clothes than she had in her entire life. Seven whole dresses, two pairs of gloves, and three pairs of shoes. And a lovely pair of boots, with a kitten heel. She’d never seen anything like it before.
Mrs. Banks insist she wear the green gown out of the shop and when they found the shoes she changed into the boots with the heels.
The New Head Mistress Page 2
