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?”