You Are Mine (13 page)

Is this acceptable? I've no idea.
Until a few hours ago, I'd never even touched money. “That should
be fine.”

She tucks the pouch under the counter
and grabs a book and material swatches before sitting back down.
“To be honest, I've always thought those engagement dresses and
bridal gowns were rather absurd. I've never needed one myself
though, obviously, and neither do my usual customers so I've never
done much with the thought.”

This feels unreal. She opens the book.
I wonder why we need the Woman's Canon until I see several basic
dress designs. The tarnished use books in at least one more way
than I'm supposed to.

“
While you look at these,
can you tell me a bit about yourself?”

So I do. It takes me a few minutes to
warm to her, but soon I'm telling her everything. We spend the next
hour conversing. Instead of being something less than a shadow like
I was always told, it's like finding another sister, except she's
not afraid of Father and doesn't criticize my unconventional
choice. And she likes chocolate, though she has only tried it
once.

After a while, she sketches while we
talk, making changes here and there, her smile growing with each
line. How did someone like one of my sisters, get mixed up with
others that are just shadows of people?

“
What do you think?” She
shows me the sketch.

My breath catches in my throat. The
back of my eyes burn, but I blink away the tears before they can
manifest. “Perfect. Will you be able to make it in
time?”

“
I'll make it. Do you know
what color you want it?”

Talking to her about what has happened
made me realize, I don't want just any color. I don't want to just
stand out. I want to feel it. “The color that started it
all.”

Chapter Twelve

I
t's dark when I open the carriage door. Though the ride
wasn't far enough to make me too ill, the clean air helps soothe my
jumbled stomach. The excitement of the day stays with me as I
imagine wearing my engagement dress. It will be the best I've ever
worn.

Mother's carriage is gone. A knot of
tension in my stomach eases. I hope she won't be displeased with my
choice. Or the Envadi. Her words come back to me about him trapping
me. He did let me go rather easily and gave me money. It's probably
to catch me making worse choices than just asking. My excitement
drains.

I should send Katherine a note telling
her not to make the dress. But she's doing me a favor, already
working hard to get it ready in time. And it's what I want. What
should I do? I don't know. I trudge inside and down the passage. An
electric light is on in the book room, glowing through the slit in
the doorway. I stop and peer inside.

My hand covers my mouth to keep from
making a sound. The Envadi is conversing with another giant. It
must be someone else from his country. There are never many Envadi
in Chardonia. What's he doing here? Even after leaning closer, I
can't hear what they are saying. A spell perhaps? Except there's no
telling salmon-colored light like he used before. Just the faint
glow lightening the area directly around them.

“
I can't,” Chancellor Zade
says, his voice finally growing loud enough for me to hear. Not a
spell than, just caution.

“
You must at least keep up
appearances. What would your Father say?”

“
You know he doesn't want
me here, let alone encouraging me.”

“
As a parent, that may be
so, but as a
—
”

“
Wait.” The Chancellor
stalks to the door. “Who's there?”

My heart pounds and my mouth goes dry.
I've pushed enough boundaries today without making it worse. I
nudge the door open. Both men watch me. I lower my head wondering
what hex he'll use. Or is he going to come close enough to strike
me? I move deeper into the hall.

“
Glad you're back,” the
Chancellor says. “I wanted to make sure you returned safely before
going to bed.”

Not what I was expecting to hear. I
peek at him through my lashes. Returned safely or that I'm truly
making stupid choices? More likely the latter. It has to be the
latter.

His companion clears his
throat.

The Chancellor says, “Oh, yes, I'm an
idiot.” Did he really just call himself that? “This is my
manservant, Chadwick.”

Does the introduction mean Chadwick
will be administering punishment for eavesdropping? Father never
foisted the job onto someone else, but I've heard of others doing
so.

“
A pleasure to meet you,
madam.”

The unusual greeting puzzles me. It
doesn't seem like he's going to punish me, though he could if he
tried. He's not as tall as Chancellor Zade, but taller than Father.
There's a boyishness to his face at odds with the gun at his waist.
I'm not sure if it makes him less of a threat or more of one.
Chardonian warlocks never carry one.

“
Come in, come in,”
Chancellor Zade says. “No need to hover in the hall.”

At the reminder of my spying, I
flinch, but edge in as he wishes.

“
Did you find something to
suit your taste?” His face gives away nothing.

I swallow. Mother was right. It's
going to be a trap. “I did, Master.”

“
Good.” He moves closer to
my side, towering over me. I try not to shrink away from him. “No
need to call me Master. Zade is fine.”

“
Yes, Chancellor
Zade.”

Chadwick chuckles and the Chancellor
joins in. What's so funny?

“
Just Zade.”

“
But the Woman's Canon
says we must address you properly.” Not that I want to follow it,
but it's expected.

His lips press into a tight line. His
eyes narrow. I avert my gaze to the floor.

“
This is not your Father's
house. Here I'm Zade, nothing more.”

Chadwick coughs.

Zade grunts. “Do you need anything
else for the ceremony?”

“
No, Chancellor.”
Realizing I slipped the wrong name out, I cringe. It's not like I
can call him by just his name, even if he says I can.

“
Let me know if that
changes. See you tomorrow.”

I stay in my spot for a moment before
I realize I can take that as permission to leave. Not wanting to
make my sins greater, I dart out and head for my room. Why hasn't
he punished me yet?

***

“
Did you find a dress
yesterday?” Cynthia asks.

“
A woman is making one for
me.”

“
Is it what you
want?”

“
Yes.”

She pats the seat next to her on the
sofa. “Tell me about it before mother gets here.”

Do I tell her that a tarnished is the
one making it? She's here as a spy after all. Spy or not, she's my
sister. “I'm not sure it will be done in time. I should've thought
of it sooner. There's more material to it at least.”

“
That's good. I hope I can
find the same when it's my turn. That thing mother had you try on
was terrible.”

She doesn't need to know how much
worse most of the options are. At least, I hope she never does. I
sit next to her. “I'll help you.”

“
Help her with what?”
Mother waddles in the room.

Cynthia gives me a grin before turning
toward my mother. “Picking a frock for tomorrow.”

Mother hmpfs. “If there's nothing
better for you girls to do, then I suggest you come home and help
out.”

Cynthia's face pales.

“
It's my fault, mother,” I
say. “I was looking for a distraction. We're to polish the silver
as soon as you leave.”

Cynthia gives me a nudge of her elbow
at the lie.

Mother glides into a chair, as well as
any woman with a babe can glide. “You know better than to teach
your sister to focus on such fanciful things. I suppose polishing
is fine though. Maybe I best not stay for dinner.”

I keep a smile from my face. “Only if
you think the Chancellor wouldn't mind. We were supposed to be
working on it right now, but with you coming we haven't the
time.”

Cynthia presses a gloved hand to her
face.

“
I guess we should hurry
then,” mother says. “Come here, Serena.”

Mother sags, kneads her belly, and
closes her eyes. Perhaps I shouldn't have made up the polishing
chore. Making the journey so often in her condition must be
miserable. It's hard to stop myself when the words come to
mind.

I lean over to Cynthia and whisper,
“Don't give us away.”

“
Father would've beaten
you if he found out such a tale,” she whispers back.

Her words won't affect me. I won't
allow it. I stand and go to mother. At the swish of my dress, she
opens her eyes.

“
I brought the gown with
the alternations.”

“
I've found a
replacement.”

The lines in her forehead multiply,
cracking her face paint. “Indeed. Well then, Cynthia, you won't be
needed today. I suppose you can get started on the silver. And
there's a servant in the hall, tell her to enter in ten minutes.
Make sure you don't say anything else. She could
gossip.”

“
Yes, mother.” Cynthia
gives me a look of longing before leaving the room.

“
Sit down,
Serena.”

I pull a chair closer and slide into
it.

“
I know you find me silly
sometimes.” I open my mouth to speak, but she stops me. “Don't deny
it. I suppose I am rather silly at times.” She sucks in air and
holds her belly.

“
Are you all
right?”

Her voice is strained. “It's nothing.”
After several seconds her face relaxes. “When my Father told me it
was time to enter the marriage pool, I was nineteen and enjoying
life. So I refused.”

This is not my mother. My mother has
never refused any order from a warlock. It's not possible she's
ever acted like this, except she has no reason to lie. My hand
covers my mouth.

“
I went in my room and
shoved the bed against the door so no one could come in. It didn't
last long. My Father spelled through it easily enough. He dragged
me to the testing center. After I was tested, he chained me to a
wall in the basement until the engagement ceremony, rarely fed. He
spelled me to have nightmares about my worst fears. The only time I
saw anyone was when mother brought food and begged me to repent.
She wasn't even allowed to take the chamber pot.”

Of all the punishment I've lived
through, none have been that horrid. “I didn't know.”

“
Of course you didn't. I
went to the engagement ceremony, returned to my Father's house
repentant, got married several months later, and have spent a life
time trying to make up for that stupid choice.” She moves closer.
“I don't want to see you go through something like
that.”

I don't want to either.

She slouches in her chair. “Father
asked me to give you some gifts.

“
Gifts?” My mind is still
on mother's reveal. It takes a moment for her words to make sense.
“But those are only for warlocks.”

“
A woman occasionally
receives them.” A woman with black eyes and a shabby olive-green
dress enters the room carrying a small parcel. “Phyllis, I was just
telling Serena about you.”

She stops next to mother.

“
Does she have the
gift?”

“
She's your gift, silly
child. Father sent her. He thought being in such a grand house,
you'd need a personal one. Though she will be Father's until you
wed, then she will be your husband's, she's to wait on you.
Chancellor Zade already approved her.”

I stare at Phyllis, who stares back.
No tarnished marks or marriage tattoos. Must be a lower class. Her
hair is as dark as her eyes. The dress hangs on her
frame.

Mother winces, her face crumpled with
pain.

“
Are you well?”

She lets out a slow breath. “Fine.
Just a little false labor.”

I crouch directly next to her. “Are
you sure it's false?”

“
I've had more than enough
babes to know. Stop crowding me.”

And I've delivered enough to know.
After taking a step back, I say, “I can send for the doctor to make
sure.”

“
You're the child, not me.
Do you want your gift or not?”

The memory of the last babe coming
before she thought it was time is hard to forget. The hex Father
delivered for my not calling for the doctor sooner clings to me. I
grip my hands together and inch back, watching for any other sign
I'll be delivering another babe and punished for it.

“
It's
only
—
” I
shake my head. Saying something won't do any good. “What's the
other gift, mother?”

She motions to Phyllis who hands her
the parcel. As she speaks, she unwraps the bundle. “This is for the
engagement ceremony and after when he brands you. It will make it
easier to bear.”