“Would you like to see something even more amazing?” she said.
“Sure.” I looked at my plate and then the door. “If you won’t get in trouble?”
“Not unless Miss has another request of me.”
“Nope.” I shook my head and sat down at the marble table, the chair cold under me.
Katy sat down too, bringing a candle with her from the drawer where the zoetrope was. “Do you have any paper?”
“Sure.” I ran to my desk and gathered up some paper, grabbing scissors and tape as well when she added those to the list. We sat silently for a while then as she cut and taped shapes together, making what looked like a circular bowl of trees. And when I felt like that silence lingered too long, I chanced a conversation—telling her all about Alex and our strange worlds, and how much I missed him and my mom. She didn’t seem to be listening at first, but I kept talking anyway, and eventually she started nodding and even smiling when I told her things.
“They sound like truly wonderful people,” she said, her smile sitting radiantly beneath her soft hair. I could see what Theo saw in her then. Without a face full of cake flour she was very pretty, and had a sweetness to her not seen in other girls these days. “But now, all those worlds you miss,” she added, “you can create them right here. Just like with a projector.”
“A projector?”
She placed the candle in the middle of her creation, the finely cut trees a work of art on their own. “I got the idea from playing with my praxinoscope.”
“What’s a praxin… thingy?”
“It’s a later model of the zoetrope, but it uses mirrors to show the image in the middle, so you don’t have to bend down. This here…” she showed me her tree bowl, “this is like all of them combined. Look.” Katy lit the candle at the center and then got up to turn out the lamp, and when she did, I drew a breath of awe.
“Wow.”
“Yes.” She nodded, satisfied. My entire room from floor to ceiling looked like a forest, the candle projecting the light past the tiny paper trees and making giant foresty shadows. It reminded me of Plain’s Worldinator, but without the paint.
“Katy, you are amazing.”
She blushed shyly. And from that moment on, I knew we’d be the best of friends. Katy, while she might not have a modern view of the world, did have a unique one, and without that unique view she might never have come up with the tree bowl and I might never have known such magic existed. Okay, so it wasn’t literally magic, but it was magical. And it was just what I needed.
Days turned into weeks quickly after that, and each one passed in the exact same way: breakfast, get dressed, wander in the snow-coated garden with Katy behind me, cross-stitch, watch movies with Katy before dinner, eat dinner, watch movies with Katy until I fell asleep. Wake up. Rinse. Repeat. Nothing changed. Not even the status of my virginity.
By the time the delivery truck came in on Sunday with this week’s supplies, I’d spent so many days on repeat that I now knew how many trees were naked out there and how many had needles to cover them. I knew the driver’s name, though I’d never seen his face, and how many spots of rust were on the top of his green truck. I knew how many paces it was from one side of my room to the other when I walked in boots and when I walked in slippers. Which was different. Somehow. I was still working on my theory as to why. And I had also gotten remarkably good at math, thanks to a ‘For Dummies’ blog. When you’re dead bored, see, you find things to do that you would never otherwise have done, like making a science experiment of room pacing, or attempting to make soap from all the used bars around the mansion.
One afternoon when Katy came to hang out with me, I’d decided it was time for her to learn a new skill. She stood there and gave me a funny look as I tied my dress up around my waist, and turned the laptop screen so we could both see it.
“Come on.” I motioned to her dress, taking off my shoes. “It’ll be fun.”
“I’ve never danced before—”
“And I’ve never learned the steps to Thriller before, so we’re in this together.”
“But, Miss…” She looked at the screen, one eyebrow getting a worried dip across the top. “I don’t like the looks of them people. Are they dead?”
I laughed loudly, until I realized she was serious. “Katy. It’s makeup! Look—” I took both of her hands and stood her beside me. “Once we’ve got the first five steps down, I’ll show you ‘the making of’ video. Okay?”
“The what?”
“Just dance.” I hit play. “It’ll be fun, and then we can show Theo.”
Her eyes went wide and a flush of color came up under her freckles. “Oh no. I can’t show Theo.”
“Why not?”
“He will laugh, Miss.”
“It’ll be one of those affectionate laughs, like your mom and dad have when you do a silly dance as a kid.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t have a mom and dad.”
“Who raised you then? I bet they laughed at you when you did something silly.”
“Oh.” She nodded, laughing. “Yes. Like the time I wet my bed while I was sleeping and they made me walk around in my bedclothes for the day.”
I stared at her blankly, horrified. “Not that kind of laughter. The kind where you find something cute, even if it’s silly.”
She returned my blank stare.
“Hasn’t anyone ever loved you, Katy?”
“Theo says people love here in different ways to your world.”
That made me pout. Poor Katy. “Hey.” A big smile shoved my pout aside. “I know what you need to do. The Holiday!”
“Holiday?”
“It’s a movie. And in it, there’s this old man that gets Kate Winslet to watch a certain list of films so she can become a better version of herself and stop letting her boss-slash-on-and-off-boyfriend walk all over her. That’s what you need to do, Katy. For personal growth.” I pressed pause on our video. “I’m gonna make you a list of movies, and you’re going to watch them all—”
“What would I watch them on? I don’t have a computer of my own. And I wouldn’t know how to use one,” she added with a shy laugh.
“Will Theo help, do you think?”
“He might.”
“I’m sure he will…” Unless he liked her being ignorant and old fashioned. There weren’t many girls like Katy around these days. Maybe he found it charming, or something.
“He did offer me a computer, if I promised not to let Mrs. Potter find it, but it isn’t worth the risk I told him. I’d be flogged and accused of stealing, and I couldn’t tell her Theo gave it to me, or he’d be flogged for befriending a human in His Lordship’s house, or maybe worse, being that I’m a slave.”
That entire sentence irritated the snot out of me. I had so many counter statements, but instead I decided to skip it all and find another way to make her understand how much was wrong with her life.
“Fine then.” I unrolled my dress and sat down on my bed, patting the spot next to me. “I’ll just have to watch them all with you. Carne knows I could use a bit of gumption myself.”
“Gumption?”
“Gumption is… well, do you remember how we watched that movie ‘Mrs. Potter’, and you thought it was about your Mrs. Potter in the kitchen?”
“Yes, the one with Renée Zell…”
“…weger, yes. And remember how you said you liked that she held her head high and never let what the ‘men’ thought of her get her down. She kept doing what she loved, chose not to marry when society deemed it right to, earned a living as a writer, even though her world frowned upon it all?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s gumption. Spunk. Guts. Common sense. Kind of being strong-willed.”
“It means all those things?”
“Yep. And we’re going to get you some.”
“How?”
“By showing you strong examples of women. And not the ‘Hollywood’ version of strong, where a girl can kick and hit and is soooo much smarte
r than all the boys. The ‘real life’ version of strong, where she can overcome her emotions and fight all the uphill battles in life, beating back society’s definition of her, so she can be anything she wants to be.”
“Oh, but not me, Miss. I can’t be—”
“Shh,” I snapped playfully, patting the bed again. “Gumption. Now!”
Katy grinned and sat down beside me, and as the first film on my list started, we both tucked our feet under the covers and snuggled up. It was nice not to feel alone so much since I met Katy, and in a lot of ways, I imagined this is what it’d be like to have a sister. I liked having a sister.
***
Katy arrived early to dress me. As I finished my breakfast, watching the snow fall outside my window, my bones felt restless and my stomach felt tight and sore. I had blisters under my arms from that corset and I was sure I had a bruise on my hip—the really deep kind that doesn’t show up for a few days.
I glanced back at her as she laid out my floral dress on the bed. “I can’t do it. No, actually…” I put the last of my toast down and stood up. “I won’t.”
“Won’t what, Miss?”
“I won’t wear that today.”
“Oh.” She quickly picked it up, shaking her head apologetically. “I’ll get the blue one then?”
“No. I mean I’m not wearing those clothes. I’m wearing my jeans.”
The familiar horrified look dusted her features.
“Don’t worry, Katy.” I patted her arm as I walked past. “What’s the worst he can do?”
“Oh, Miss, I must advise against it. His Lordship is in no mood today for rebellious wives.”
“Why?”
“It’s the waxing moon, Miss.” She nodded to the window. “As you know, His Lordship can only turn under a full moon and the two days either side of it, so today is—”
“So does that mean he’ll take off for a few days?” I asked. “Some of my pack do that—”
“Yes, Miss. Four days, at best.” She followed me across the room. “But it puts him in a right sorry mood before he leaves.”
“Why?”
“On account of the pain—that’s what Mrs. Potter says.”
“Pain?”
“The turning, Miss.”
The Shedding. Luther was one of very few wolves that shed his flesh each time he turned. I guess it never occurred to me how painful that might be. I felt a little sorry for him, even though I didn’t know him. Or like him.
I walked back over to the window and looked out onto the morning. A powdery blanket of snow erased the struggling reach of the dying grass that was there last night, and frost clung to the steps in sparkly blades. It was pretty out this morning, and I could feel the energy of the moon rising. Luther would leave for four days, which meant that if I felt the need to step outside and howl at the moon, he wouldn’t be here to stop me. Or laugh at me, since humans weren’t really invited to howl. And that gave me a renewed surge of energy, and resolve to wear my jeans. It’s not like he’d be here to catch me, right?
From a door somewhere under this tower Luther appeared, making deep impressions in the snow as he walked. He moved swiftly, nimbly, making his way over the grounds at a speed that even I found impressive. And he was dressed in almost normal clothes. Gone were the regency pants and jacket, exchanged instead for a smart, modern suit. I felt the same flutter in my chest that I felt the day I met him, and a part of me wished that he’d complete our wedding ritual tonight.
A fancy black car pulled up then and he opened the door, turning his head to look right at me before he got in and closed it. I wondered where he was going dressed like that, and it made me mad that I didn’t know. I was supposed to be his wife. I was supposed to know this stuff about him.
“I’ve been here for a month, Katy,” I said softly, my brow against the glass. “Why hasn’t he come to me yet? I haven’t even spoken to him.”
The car door opened again and Luther hopped out, the bright sun reflecting in an orb off the black paint, blinding me as I tried to look down at him. He stood with his hands by his sides, looking right at me again, obviously in very deep thought. So I waved, and he started walking toward the tower.
“Oh crud!” I ran away from the window.
“What? What is it?” Katy gathered my clothes off the bed and hugged them, panicked.
“I think he’s coming up here.”
“Quick.” She shoved a dress at me. “Put this on before he sees you.”
“No.” I threw it back at her like a hot potato. “I’m making my stand. I have a life to live, too, Katy.”
“Please, Miss. I don’t want to see you flogged.”
“I’d like to see him try,” I said, clenching my jaw. “All those Jet Li movies we’ve been watching will come in handy if he does.”
Katy watched in horror as I walked to my closet. I pulled on my jeans, taking off the stupid nightdress and putting on a glorious comfortable modern bra and normal red sweater. With my silver dagger hidden safely under my clothes so Luther wouldn’t see, I made it back out to my room just as he threw the door open and ordered Katy to leave.
Slipping back into ‘Slave Girl’ mode, Katy curtsied and ducked out, realizing only as she reached the hall that my dresses were still in her arms. She went to turn back, but thought better of it and ran away with her proverbial tail between her legs.
I stood tall, my chin up, looking my husband square in the eye.
“What are you wearing?” he asked.
“Clothes.” I gave him a judgmental look. “What are you wearing?”
His stern face held firm, but one eye slipped into a softer look. “My son warned me that you were a handful.”
“Theo hasn’t seen anything yet.”
“Theo?” he said, brows going up in interest. “And how is it you come to address my son in such an informal manner?”
“It’s the time we live in, Luther,” I offered, remembering not to shrug or do anything else normal for my age. “I’d shorten your name but there’s not much I can do with Luther.”
The one eye that seemed to smile narrowed, taking the other one with it. He studied me for a moment and then sniffed the air. It was a subtle sniff, but I noticed it. “Have you turned yet?”
“Turned?”
“Have you taken on wolf form?”
“I’m half human, I can’t—”
“You can.” He considered me at length, adding, “But clearly no one has taught you how.”
“Wait… are you saying…”
“I suppose it is lost to our pack,” he cut in, as though I hadn’t started talking. “We have had several generations of pure-blood to pure-blood breeding, but there was a time when most wolves were part human.”
“There was?”
“There was.” His face softened. “Wear something warm tonight. I will take you to the forest and teach you.”
“Why?” I said as he turned away.
He stopped. “Pardon?”
“Why would you do that? You obviously don’t care about me, so why would you—”
“I cannot breed with you until I am sure you are at least part wolf. Not to mention—” he put both hands behind his back, angling his chin up, “—I am your alpha, and I say it is not natural for a wolf-blooded human not to turn.”
“But once I have, will you keep me locked up in here in case I assume wolf form and run away?”
“Would you run away?”
“No.” I wouldn’t risk my family being killed.
“Then I should have no reason to lock you away. Unless you give me one.” He took an irritated breath and readjusted his stance. “I am not a beast, Miss Redwood. All wives are allowed two supervised trips per month to the forest to engage in this ritual, as stated in the contract. And that supervision is to protect you from assassination. You will be vulnerable as you change to wolf form.”
“Oh.” I unfolded my arms. “I guess… being half human, I didn’t bother reading that bit.”
/> “Well, consider yourself informed.” He bowed his head and turned on his heel. “I shall see you tonight.”
As much as I wanted to jump up and down and squeal with excitement—not just for the fact that I could actually become a wolf after all, but for the fact that my husband not only spoke to me and was actually kind of nice—I stood remarkably still and composed, watching him leave my room. Then I squealed and jumped around, punching the air.
Part Three: Chapter Three
Beware the Wolf in a Man’s Clothing
Tonight couldn’t come soon enough. I’d been here a month without seeing Luther. A month with nothing much to do. And now the lifetime of human form I once had ahead of me was slipping away for the possibility that I could turn into a wolf. I apparently just needed to know how. If that was true, Luther would fast become my favorite person in the whole world. He’d have no choice.
Katy walked in with a heap of garments over her arms, and winked at me, closing the door with her hip.
I got off my bed and stood with my arms folded, shaking my head until she finished laying out the dresses and looked my way.
“What?” she said, stopping on the spot, about to touch her face as if I was staring at a globule of breakfast there.
“You’ve got it, Katy,” I said.
“Got what?”
“Gumption!” I grinned.
Katy gave a shy smile, but it changed as she turned away; took on a more knowing form. Anyone could see the change in her. She wasn’t as timid or jittery, and as if that wasn’t enough she hadn’t just stopped being the oppressed slave girl; she also stood taller, questioned things, looked people in the eye. I liked that. I liked that I’d showed her how to be that way.
“Okay, come on.” She waved me over to her. “We have to dress you warm, but you won’t need a corset if you’re heading out to turn tonight. You might be best in a simple dress and cloak, but you need to look your best if you’re to win the heart of the alpha.”
My eyes went to the cream frock with simple blue flowers and vines embroidered on it, then to the heavy powder-blue cape on the bed beside Katy.
“He likes blue,” she said.
Red: The Untold Story Page 13
