You Are Mine (11 page)

I slip from the room and close the
door until the latch gives a faint click. I head for my own room.
In my panic, it takes me a moment to orient myself as to where I am
and where I need to go. Remembering the lay of the land outside the
book room window, I head toward the direction my room should lie
in. Things soon look familiar.

I finish climbing to my room. Once
there, I do another thing I have never before attempted. I lock my
door. Just to be safe, I curl up in my bed so I can hide the book
under my pillow if need be and claim I was resting.

I open the book again and let its
scent fill me. The words quickly consume me. It's nothing like the
Woman's Canon. Almost being caught was worth it. As long as it
doesn't bring trouble and punishments my way, I think I'm going to
like it.

Chapter Ten

B
esides the terrifying book incident, the only time I've seen
the Envadi is at dinner. I've never tried to contact him in any
way, nor has he tried to contact me. Until now.

I stare at the note he sent, not sure
if the contact brings good or bad news. Mother's coming to dinner.
Tonight.

The servant girl finishes tugging my
hair into a knot and reaches for a paint pot.

I steel my resolve. “Not tonight. That
will be all.”

“
But you have to,” Cynthia
says from the window seat.

“
Not tonight.” I turn to
the servant. “You're dismissed.”

“
Thank you.” The servant
departs.

“
I'll never get used to
having someone else do so much for me,” I say.

“
Oh good.” Cynthia stands
and walks over to me. “When you said that, I thought you meant you
were going to dinner without your face paint. It's odd having them
do everything all the time.”

“
It is odd, but I didn't
mean that I intended to do my own face paint. I'll go to dinner
without.”

Her eyes widen. “You
mustn't. The Woman's Canon
—
”

“
It doesn't demand that we
wear face paint, only that we look our best.” Besides, the book I
stole has a girl in it that only mentions face paint once and how
she never wears it. If I had known it was a choice sooner, I would
have done the same.

“
Mother always said we
must wear face paint when we turned twelve.”

I give her my full attention. “You
said you weren't going to take mother's place.”

“
I'm just worried for
you.”

I stand and hand her the note. “Don't
worry. Mother will be here to scold me herself.”

“
She's coming? Then you
really must put some on.”

Purposely ignoring her, I stride to
the door. “I believe it's time to go. Mother will be here soon, if
she isn't already.”

As we walk to the dining room, my face
feels naked. I never realized how much I draw on the face paint to
mask feelings. I fight to keep my nerves from showing and quicken
my pace. I've been away from mother almost two weeks, I'm not sure
if I'm excited to see her, or dreading it.

“
Mother isn't going to
like this,” Cynthia says, a step behind me.

“
I'm not residing with her
anymore.”

“
What if Chancellor Zade
doesn't like it either?”

I shrug and try to put the thought
from my mind.

“
You really should put it
on. Think of what he could do. Has it really been so long that
you've forgotten all of Father's punishments?”

My steps falter for a moment before I
continue. “I've been punished enough times, I don't think one more
will make a difference.”

Cynthia grabs my arm pulling me to a
stop. “But he's much bigger than Father and more powerful. What if
you're seriously injured? I know you don't want to think of it, but
he could do worse things. Don't you remember the incident with
Thomas?”

Gently, I push her hand from me though
her words strike unease. “Don't fret so much.”

She bites her lip. “Are you
sure?”

“
Of course I am. Now we
must hurry or we'll be late, which is worse than absent face
paint.”

Keeping the fear away is a struggle as
Cynthia's words haunt me. I doubt myself. Why did I feel this was
necessary? Trying to be like a girl from something I shouldn't be
reading anyway. What possessed me to think it was a good idea? I
don't want this marriage, but the alternative makes me ill. Soon
enough, we are in the sitting room right outside the dining hall.
The forest green sofas and chairs are empty.

“
Perhaps I
should...”

“
Should what?” The
Envadi's voice comes from behind me.

I can't imagine how someone so huge
gets around without being seen or heard. He must use magic.
Following a moment's hesitation, I turn my bare face directly to
him. Cynthia moves closer to me. The Envadi says nothing, merely
raises an eyebrow.

No immediate punishment. The
tightening in my chest loosens. “I should check if my mother has
arrived.”

“
Indeed I have.” Mother
enters from the same door the Envadi used, her burgundy dress tight
against the swell of her belly.

The Envadi says, “Should we go in to
dinner?”

We watch, waiting for him to take the
lead. He catches my eye a moment, then goes to the door and opens
it. “After you.”

We stare at him another moment. Mother
takes a tentative step. Before she gets any farther, she looks at
me for the first time and gasps.

“
What is it?” the Envadi
asks. “Have you fallen ill?”

Mother stares at me another moment
with wide eyes. They narrow and I ready myself for a lecture. “I
felt faint for a moment. I'm well now.”

“
Are you certain? You can
rest a minute.”

“
No need to fuss, I'm
well.”

“
Let's see what cook has
made then. I'm sure we're in for another treat.”

Mother scowls at me and pads into the
dining room. Cynthia and I follow. The walls, tables, and chairs
are all made from a dark wood. Though the table is long enough to
sit twenty, there are only four places set.

Cynthia and I stand by our customary
chairs. Mother stands behind a chair across from us. As the Envadi
does every meal, instead of taking his seat as he ought, he motions
for the servants to help us all sit at the same time. It takes
mother a moment to follow suit, but once she's settled we fall into
our silent meal.

When the dessert course is set before
us, an assortment of fruit and vanilla cream, I go straight for the
strawberries. Before I can take a bite, the Envadi breaks the
silence.

“
Fruit from the garden.
Apparently the main gardener owed Chancellor Jacob's family some
money and they settled by using his magic talent on the grounds.
They say he has a knack for getting things to ripen whenever he
desires. These peaches are tasty.” The barbarian wishes to discuss
fruit? With us women? He turns to mother and says, “Don't you think
so, Agatha?”

Mother drops her fork. “Why,
yes.”

“
Which is your
favorite?”

Tentatively, she says, “The peaches.
As you said, they are good.”

He nods. “And you Cynthia, which one
would be your favorite?”

“
The peaches,
Chancellor.”

He takes another bite while we stare
at him through lowered lashes. “What do you think,
Serena?”

I hate peaches, but I'm not supposed
to contradict him. With Father I always knew where my boundaries
were. Now, I'm not so sure. Time to find out. “I like the
strawberries best.”

Mother and Cynthia gape at me. The
Envadi smiles. “A dissenter? Granted, the strawberries are good,
but not as good as the peaches. They've ripened to
perfection.”

“
Then you must eat mine. I
can't abide them.” After taking my cup off its saucer, I place the
strawberries on the plate. I pick up the dessert dish and set it
next to him. Let him punish me, then I'll know what to
expect.

Mother's face is drawn in horror, but
the Envadi laughs. “And I won't let good peaches go to waste, but
there are apples, too.”

“
I'm finished with
everything there.”

“
I'll make sure nothing is
wasted then.” He scoops the remaining fruit onto his
plate.

I'm not going to be punished? Why? Not
that I wanted it, I only wanted to know what it took to get it and
how bad it would be. I fork a strawberry while pondering
it.

He takes several more bites. “Agatha,
Councilman Stephen's note mentioned you were going to be returning
later in the week to assist Serena in preparing for the engagement
ceremony. What day, or days would you like to come? Is there
anything you need that I can help with?”

Mother's gaze darts between me and the
Envadi. Finally, she picks up her fork and responds. “Any day is
fine. My schedule is clear.”

“
You're welcome on all of
the days then. In fact, you can stay with us while you make your
plans.”

Mother stares at her plate. “I don't
believe Councilman Stephen would care for me to be away from him
that long.”

In truth, I'm surprised he let her
come without him, even with a male servant to chaperon. Though the
Woman's Canon says a warlock always knows where his wife is and
what she's doing. Perhaps he thought the servant was
sufficient.

“
Of course you must please
your husband. I just don't want you worn out with the
traveling.”

The remainder of the meal is silent.
Though not much of a meal. My strawberries have hardly any taste
with such strange going ons. Mother pushes food around her plate,
but Cynthia and the Envadi finish their fruit. When he pushes his
chair back and stands, we jump to our feet.

“
Would you like to enjoy
some time in the sitting room with us, Agatha?” He says it as if we
do it every night, but we never have before.

“
No, thank you. I believe
I must be off.”

“
So soon?”

Mother nods.

“
Then I'll let the girls
see you out. Feel free to take my offer for dinner when you come
again. A guest room can be readied easily enough if the Councilman
allows.”

I tense as the Envadi gives a nod and
strides from the room. Mother moves to the door. When I don't
immediately follow, she snaps. Cynthia and I hurry after
her.

“
Not you Cynthia. You can
go to your room and do whatever it is you do in this big place
while I'm at home slaving over twelve girls and preparing for
another babe.”

Cynthia opens her mouth to speak, but
closes it again with the shake of her head. She scurries from the
room. I make a note to be extra kind to her tomorrow and follow
mother out into the hall. Our footsteps are quieted by a brown rug.
Once we're no longer within hearing of the servants, she turns to
me with a hiss.

“
Where's your face
paint?”

I swallow. “I was in a
hurry, so I thought that
—
”

“
You don't think. If
Father knew...” She frowns and rubs her lower back before pulling a
pocket-sized Woman's Canon out of her pocket and turns right to the
page she wants. “A woman must always look her best.” She snaps the
book closed. “You won't go without it again. Ever.”

The command makes me grit my teeth.
“Yes, mother.”

She watches me closely and sighs.
“Have you given any thought to the ceremony?”

More than I wish. “Some.”

“
Good. We don't have
nearly as much to do as we will when it's time for the wedding.
Mostly, we need a dress. I'll bring one with me when I come
tomorrow and see if it fits.”

“
I'll be ready.” Like I
have a choice.

“
See that you're wearing
face paint when I arrive. I'd hate to see you punished for breaking
the Woman's Canon this close to your wedding.” She straightens.
“I'll see myself out.”

I watch as she waddles down the
corridor, wondering what tomorrow will bring.

***

“
Quit fidgeting,” mother
says around a mouth full of pins.

“
Ouch!” A pin stings my
leg.

“
I told you. Now hold
still so I can finish.”

I try to hold still. Really, I do, but
I can't help it. The dress is awful though I have yet to see how it
looks on me.

Mother moves to my stomach and starts
pinning the material. “We'll have to take it in, but I think it
will work. I can't believe you're grown enough to wear it. Seems
like only yesterday I was wearing it to my own engagement ceremony.
Finished. What do you think?” Mother's face glows at me, but from
her chair nearby, Cynthia is passive, save for a tightening around
her mouth.

I turn toward the mirror, my painted
face reflected back, trying to guard my reaction. It's more like a
slip than a dress. Flimsy black material clings to me, held up only
by two thin straps. Right now it reaches a touch below my knees,
but mother has plans to hem it three inches.