by Janeal Falor
Chancellor Zade stands just inside my room. “What are you doing here?”
Without hesitating, the attacker flashes an orange spell out the window and bolts after it. The Chancellor darts after him, but stops at the window. He throws several spells from the window and then shoots one through my door.
“Are you both well?”
I'm trembling, but don't think I'm injured. “I'm well. Waverly?”
She coughs. I fill a glass of water and bring it to her. Dark bruises are already forming on her neck. She croaks out, “I'm all right. Or will be.”
He crosses to her, puts a hand on her throat, and emits a faint blue light with streaks of red. When he takes his hand away, the marks are gone.
“Thank you.” Her voice back to normal.
His mouth thins. He comes to me. “Do you want me to heal you, too?”
I put a hand to my cheek. “It's nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
Very. I don't want magic cast on me ever again if I can help it. “Yes.”
“What happened?” Chancellor Zade asks.
Next to his presence I feel as helpless as I did a moment ago while being attacked. I shiver and Waverly wraps a blanket around me.
“I woke to a noise and rang for help. Waverly came before anything really happened. He asked where you were.”
His face hardens. “Speak of this to no one. I'll put extra guards and wards around the house. Let me know if you have any more problems, but you shouldn't.”
With that he leaves the room. What's going on? Does he expect there to be more problems?
Wavely's pale. “Did you need anything else?”
“No, I'll be fine.”
She nods. “Ring if that changes.”
She helps me into bed, tucking the blankets tight around me. After she leaves, I stare at the window. Why is someone trying to attack the Chancellor? Is it because he's not acting eager to marry me? The kiss was supposed to fix that. I toss and turn, fear chasing away any hint of sleep.
Chapter Twenty
A knock sounds at my door, and Waverly enters, carrying a tray. I leave the window seat to sit at the table.
“Are you all right this morning?” She sets the tray down and pours some chocolate.
There's no sign left of the struggle last night on either of us or the room. Inside myself though, the same couldn't be said. I'm exhausted from jumping at every noise I heard last night. “Shaken.”
“Me, too. If truth be told. I didn't sleep very well after that.”
“Me either. Do you know any more about why it happened?”
“Only what Zade has told me.” She looks at the tray. “Have some chocolate, maybe that'll help.”
I take a biscuit and a cup. “Thank you.”
“No problem. Warm milk soothed me, but I figured this would work better for you.” She fixes a crease in my already made bed. “A note was sent for you. Someone named Katherine will be by to see you this morning.”
“Good, I was hoping to see her soon.”
After I've eaten and dressed, Cynthia enters wearing a dark teal gown with matching metal bracelets and necklace, and helps herself to the last biscuit. Part of me wants to tell her what happened last night. But I don't want to scare her and Chancellor Zade said not to tell anyone.
“I've heard your famous seamstress is going to join us. Is it true?” Cynthia's eyes are bright.
“It is.”
“Oh, goody! Do you know when she's going to arrive?”
“She should be here about now,” Waverly says. “Would you like me to send her in if she is?”
“Please do,” I say.
Waverly leaves and a few minutes later returns with Katherine who's laden with packages. While setting them on the bed, she says, “You're not wearing the dress. Didn't you like it?”
“Come sit,” I say, some of my stress from the previous evening grows lighter at seeing her. “Have some chocolate.”
“Chocolate?” She hurries to get a cup. “Thank you, but is this your way of not talking about the dress? It's fine if you hate it.”
“No, I just remembered you like chocolate. The dress I love. I wore it yesterday. I was just telling my new servant, Waverly, about it.” I gesture to Waverly. “The Chancellor's family sent her to me from Envado. I'm already learning new things from her. She's wonderful.” And she risked her life for mine last night. I motion to my sister. “And this is Cynthia, the eldest of my sisters.”
“Good to meet you both.” Katherine gives them both wide grins.
“I've been anxious to meet you since seeing Serena's engagement gown,” Cynthia says. “It was superb.”
A small smile graces Katherine's mouth. “Thank you.” She turns to me “You liked your new dress then. Good. Did you wear it for the Chancellor?”
For some reason, my cheeks grow warm. “I did.”
She tilts her head closer to me. “And what did he say?”
Waverly and Cynthia also give me their full attention. My cheeks grow warmer. “He said it was nice.”
They smile.
“Good for him,” Waverly says, but her expression is more subdued than usual. Why is she somber? Did she not want my dress to get approved? Does she think it gives me too much freedom? It better not become an issue she convinces Zade about. I like it too much to have her pushing me back into traditional dresses.
“Wonderful,” Katherine replies. “It means the things I brought won't go to waste.”
“What did you bring?” I eye the packages on the bed.
“Work's been a bit slow lately. I had to do something to keep me and my workers busy.” Her face glows, but I can't help but feel guilty. Doesn't she need something she can get paid for?
“Please tell me they aren't all dresses for me.”
Her cheeks grow rosier. “They are. There should be enough that you won't have problems finding something to wear.”
“All the time your workers spent and the materials, I simply can't accept this. You should try to sell them in your shop.”
Katherine frowns and moves to the bed. She opens a package on top. “No tarnished would wear such a thing, and you are my only other customer.”
In the package is a black gown. She holds it up. Another two piece. Embroidered with silver thread, almost too light of a shade to be acceptable, but such a small amount, it will pass. She's right, it's decorated more than anything a tarnished would wear.
“Katherine, it's—” I don't know what to say.
“It's lovely.” Cynthia moves to brush the gown with her fingers. “It matches your hair.”
“That's what I was hoping,” Katherine says.
I press my lips together and reach for one. “May I?”
Katherine says, “Please do.”
I take the string off it. Another lovely two piece awaits. We all start opening packages. The joy within me grows with each new reveal. Dresses with laces in the front and two pieces with buttons. Matching gloves and ribbons. It's too much, but it's perfect.
I tell Katherine, “These are beautiful.”
“Let's try them on and see if they need any adjustments.”
So I try things on and stand while things are pinned. Then another dress. And another. Most need few, if any, adjustments. Katherine got them just right. Waverly and Cynthia ohh and ahh over the choices. I feel like doing the same.
“Well, I'm starved,” Cynthia says when I've tried all the dresses and I'm back in one that fits. “Why don't I bring us a tray for lunch? Then I'll help with some of the sewing if you'd like, Katherine.”
“You can sew?” she responds.
“She's the best seamstress in our household,” I say.
“I can get the food so you can stay and work.” Waverly stands.
Cynthia beats her to the door. “I'll grab it. It'd be nice to stretch my legs.”
“Let me help at least. It's part of my job and I don't mind”
“That'd be great. We'll see you ladies soon,�
�� Cynthia says.
After they've left, Katherine says, “They seem nice.”
“Cynthia's sweet. I don't know much about Waverly, yet. Did you know that in Envado, servants are paid?”
Katherine keeps her gaze on the skirt she's hemming. “I'd heard. How do you feel about that?”
I lower my voice. “It's a little strange, but a good idea. As much wealth as the Chancellor has, I don't envision it being a problem, but if we ever get close to going into debt, it would be nice to work it off before becoming indentured.”
“Could you handle a life of work?”
“I think so. I wasn't pampered at home. I did as much as the servants both here and back at Father's. Maybe a little more work. I suppose I wouldn't really know until I tried. If I become tarnished, I will find out.”
Katherine looks up from her work. “Do you think it's a possibility?”
“It's always a possibility now that I'm engaged. I'll spend the rest of my life worrying it may become my fate.” My gaze roams over her inked face. “Not that I mean to imply your life is undesirable.”
“It's not for everyone, or even most, but sometimes it's for the best.”
What can she mean by that? She goes back to stitching, but keeps darting her gaze to me. “Do you ever think about escaping?”
“I've thought of it more than I should,” I whisper. Since coming here and learning more.
She finishes the hem and sets the skirt to the side. Grabbing a hold of my hand she says, “Serena, I can help. If you ever want to escape, or need to, I'll do whatever I can to help.”
I glance at the door. If anyone should overhear us talking like this, what would be our fate? I don't want to find out, but I also want to know what she means. “How would you do such a thing?”
“We'd make something work.” She gives my hand a squeeze. “Will you come to me, if you need to?”
I think of what I've been through. Do I want to leave? Truly leave? What would my sisters do without me? “How would I ever promote your dresses if I weren't here?”
She sits back and smiles. “It'd be harder. But the offer stands.” She grabs another skirt and threads a needle.
“Do you mind if I ask a personal question?” I say.
“You can ask. I may not answer.”
“Fair enough.” I shift in my chair, wishing my stitches were good enough to help out. If I could maybe it would keep us away from this conversation. Or at least give the appearance I was doing something useful instead of delving into questions a woman shouldn't ask.
“How did you get to be a tarnished?”
“Ouch!” A dot of blood forms where she pricked her finger.
“Are you all right?” I move to help her, but she stops me with a wave.
“Happens all the time.” She grabs a discarded piece of fabric to dab it with. “I became a tarnished like everyone else. Why do you ask?”
“Father and mother threatened that if I didn't behave, my future husband might force me to become one. I wondered what it was like.”
“Most male tarnished become so at their three-year-old test. Without magic, they're never given a chance to know anything else.” A bitter edge taints her voice.
“You don't agree?”
“Who am I to say what the council laws should be? I'm not a man and certainly not a warlock.”
“But if you were, would you agree?”
“If you were, would you?”
I watch her hands deftly weave the needle in and out of the cloth. Should non-magic men be tarnished from childhood? Should they experience a life more like what I grew up with instead of being tarnished? Living a life of hard labor whether with a warlock or trying to make things work on their own like Katherine? They still have choices, but not as many as the warlocks do.
“Are many tarnished children beaten?”
For the first time since the subject began, she looks at me. “What?”
“I know your men can't hex anyone, but do the caretakers beat them?”
Her lips tighten. “Tarnished children have already been through testing and taken out of their homes. That's hard on any three-year-old. We know better than to beat them.”
“No one ever does?”
“Sometimes it happens, but it's the exception. Personally, I'd never raise a hand to a child and neither would any other tarnished I associate with, man or not.”
Perhaps the compulsion comes with those who use magic. “I think that—”
My door opens. I exchange a look with Katherine. Did they hear us? The conversation is over. For now, at least. Cynthia and Waverly enter with trays of food. I rise to help them, hoping my actions will help them think everything is as it should be.
“This looks delicious,” I say. “I don't know which I'll eat first.”
“You should have seen Phyllis's face when we came to grab a tray,” Cynthia says. “I don't think she's very happy with you.”
No hint that she overheard something she shouldn't. I shrug. “I wasn't very happy with her either.”
Once the plates are dished and my hunger abated somewhat, I say to Katherine, “These clothes will be more useful than you know. Apparently when a council member gets married, they hold a ball. It will give me the perfect chance to show everyone your dresses.”
Katherine eyes widen. “When's it taking place?”
“You'll get paid from all those warlocks who attend and don't want their possessions out done.” Cynthia laughs. “It's the day before the wedding. I can't wait.”
“A ball before the wedding?” Katherine says.
I wish the wedding didn't have to be associated with it. Every time it's brought up, my insides mush together. The ball though, it's coming together better than I hoped. “I'm trying to get help planning everything. Cynthia has many ideas. Hopefully, my other sister Bethany, will be able to help. She's always had a knack for helping mother plan, though she hasn't attended any as of yet. And instead of just helping put everything together, maybe Waverly can give us an Envadi flare.”
“I don't know how things differ, but I'd be willing to tell you what things are like in Envado,” Waverly says.
“We've already discussed how I can't pay,” I say, hoping I'm not being too forward. That she really does want people to see me wearing her things, “but maybe you could make my ball gown? I might be able to get you some new orders from it.”
“Sounds good, if we can convince the other guests to buy something. And for your dress, it'd be a thrill to do. I'll get started on ideas right away.” Katherine stands. “I must go anyway. I'll take these dresses and get them to you as soon as they're finished.”
“You're already doing so much. Thank you, and don't rush. I'll manage with what I have,” I say.
“Then I'll only work on outfits I want to. Let me know how the ball plans go.”
“I will.”
Waverly gathers the dresses that still need alterations and packages them. The rest go in my closet. Tomorrow, I'll be able to dress myself and I owe it all to Katherine's generosity. But the conversation about the tarnished makes me wonder if there is more to her than just the generosity she has shown.
Cynthia's moving toward the door to help Katherine, when it bursts open. Chancellor Zade looms before us, his gaze stopping on Katherine.
My hand goes to my throat. Is he going to chastise me for having a tarnished over? Will he punish her for being here? It's my fault, not hers.
“I heard you had a guest,” he says.
I lick my lips. How much do I tell him? Is it worse if she's here for no reason or if he knows what she's been helping with. No reason would be worse. “Y–yes. My seamstress.”
He does the most astonishing thing. He walks to her with his hand outstretched. “Good to meet you, I'm Zade.”
With more confidence then I'd have, she places her hand in his and tilts her head down. “I'm aware of who you are Chancellor. If you'll excuse me, I was just leaving.”
“I didn't mean to scare
you off.”
“We finished what we needed to.”
Will he ask what we did? If he sees the dresses, will he make me give them back? Punish her for them? I grip the side of my chair.
“I'll see you out then.” He takes a few packages from her and looks at me a moment before they depart.
The packages were within his possession. Will he open them while escorting her out? My grip tightens as I worry about what he'll do if he discovers just what kind of dresses a tarnished has been making for me.
Chapter Twenty-One
A cool breeze sends a shiver through me. Or maybe fear is making me feel colder. I pull my shawl tighter around me. Though there are guards posted and protection spells, I can't help but check around me for an intruder. If I wasn't so sick of being inside, I wouldn't bother venturing out. But staying indoors has been hard.
Stopping in front of the biggest water feature in the garden, I scan the area for signs of trouble. When none appear, I let myself relax a bit. There's been no further sign of problems. Maybe Chancellor Zade took care of them.
The pond is decorated with fish and lily pads. Flowers are blooming all around, just like the rest of the garden. With a bit of work, in two months it will be a beautiful sight and hopefully fall won't be too cool for our guests to enjoy.
I debate if I'm brave enough to go further into the garden when I hear the clomp of footsteps. I whirl toward the direction the sound comes from. Am I about to be attacked again? There's no way to ring for a servant out here. If I scream, will a guard be close enough to hear? Or will the attacker cast a spell to keep anyone from hearing my cries for help?
The sound moves closer. What should I do? Before I decide, Chancellor Zade strides around the hedge. Most of the tension drains away. Not an intruder, just the Chancellor. He's most improperly attired without his coat. Though I find myself not wanting to, I avert my gaze anyway. He doesn't look angry. Maybe he's not upset about the dresses. Or perhaps he didn't even open them.
“Enjoying the garden this morning?” His causal question eases my worries over Katherine and the dresses.
