Pink Diamond taught me to read.

More recently, the more important Pearls are taught to read, but some still can't. A lot of aristocrats hold the idea that teaching a Pearl to read ruins them; that they can't handle the kind of thoughts literature would cause them to think; that because some stories are about moral perversion or have controversial subject matter, they might get ideas. The worst kind of Pearls think for themselves, and even if they can read, it's for her owner's benefit. That way, she can read messages to her master or even reply to them, if it's simple enough.

Pink Diamond, however, had me read novels to her—old plays and romantic poetry, written for noble ears only. Even if her teaching me to read was only for her benefit, I still feel at least somewhat ruined.

After Pink died, no one knew what to do with me. I was a masterless Pearl in mourning, and when Blue Diamond took me in, she didn't have a place for me. She had her personal Pearl, and a few others who cleaned her chambers, but no one to tidy her immaculate library, so I spent most of my days in that enormous room with its skyscrapers of books, keeping the dust off of them. To touch them with my hands would have been a crime, and to crack one of them open would have caused a scandal, had anyone caught me. To distract myself from temptation, I took to scrubbing the floors and beating the curtains instead of reading.

I can remember rare occasions when Blue Diamond would come into the library, crying. She would never send me from the room, but whenever she visited, I stood in the corner and became a convincing piece of furniture. I would watch then, as she might pull out a history book and weep over it.

Sometimes I suspect she kept me around just to make her cry.

While she held whichever book—one made large enough for her hands—and tried not to soak the pages with her tears, she would sometimes turn to me, in the corner, in the shadows, out of the way, and look straight on for full seconds.

Pink Diamond one…

Pink Diamond two…

The tears welled up again and she wept them out, the sorrow twisting her face before she finally turned away. The wild pink curls atop my head might as well have been daggers to her heart. My uniform—that she requested I keep—must have been like stepping on a rusty nail.

I suppose I would stand out just as much no matter how I dressed.

Before Blue would go, she would say, "Oh, Pearl. I'm so sorry," and I would never reply. She didn't speak because she actually felt sorry for me. Even if she did, what could I say? I was in no place to absolve a Diamond of her crimes against me. If Blue had shattered My Diamond herself, the correct response would still be silence.

I began to wonder if I was being punished.

That said, my purgatory seemed to end when I began work under Morganite. The first time we met, she apologized to me and seemed to mean it.

"I'm sorry," Morganite wiped her forehead with a floral print handkerchief while fiddling with the skirts of her gown, which hung loosely from her pudgy stomach. "I don't have much for you to do. Most of my duties you won't be able to assist with, but I suppose you could clean my apartments."

At that point, both she and I looked around the room at the piles of papers and the stray books strewn upon her coffee table. On that day, there were three of them, insides obese with folded corners and notes shoved into their spines. "If I knew you were coming, I would have cleaned up. Yellow Diamond told me only moments before you arrived."

"My apologies, Madame." I bowed.

"Oh no. It's not your fault." She put out her feminine hand and patted her forehead again with the cloth. Morganite wasn't even sweating, but she did move with little jolts.

I don't blame her for being surprised.

By the way, here's your new life-long personal Pearl. Sorry if you didn't want her.

Morganite had bunched up her handkerchief and rested her eyes upon me with what appeared to be sympathy, mixed with fret. She blinked her doll-like lashes and bit her lip before she spoke. "Can I ask what Yellow Diamond told you about me, if anything?"

"She didn't say much, My Lady, but she did mention your visions."

"Oh," she blushed. "I had almost forgotten. It's frightening, but sometimes my powers discharge and I lose consciousness. It's hard to say for how long, but it has ranged from just a few minutes to several hours." She dropped her skirts and allowed her limp-wristed hand to hang. "If a vision comes on, please don't touch me. It would be best if you call Jasper. She knows what to do, and she'll keep me from hurting myself. I wouldn't want to kick or slap you accidently."

"Thank you for your consideration, Madame."

"It's nothing."

Morganite paused for a moment and placed both hands around the handkerchief, pressing it into a ball. "I suppose I'm a little embarrassed to ask this, but when Jasper comes, would you mind leaving the room? I've seen other Beryls have visions before and it's not flattering. I even wish Jasper wouldn't have to see, but there's not much choice in that. She has to see me in order to help, so…"

"Whatever you wish, My Lady. I'm at your disposal."

Her fat brows bent with relief and she finally brought her coffee-stain eyes to mine. I remember her heart-shaped gem gleaming as she shifted and it caught some light. She looked made of candy. "Thank you, Pearl." Morganite then sighed and grinned. "I hope you aren't too bored here. I imagine serving Blue Diamond was much more interesting."

I didn't respond to that. Telling her that being Blue's library Pearl was boring as hell would have been gauche.

"Oh," Morganite's fingers curled up. "You must know you're going to be bored here. Perhaps you'll miss Blue Diamond. You were at her service for a very long time." Her plump lips rolled in, puckering backwards. "I'm surprised Yellow and Blue decided to give you to me. I don't believe I'm worthy of a Diamond's Pearl, and it must be odd for you, having changed courts three times now." She granted me the full sweetness of her dark eyes. "Please let me know if you need anything. If you find you miss Blue, I'm sure I could arrange a meeting for both of you."

I didn't just stifle my laughter; I murdered it. In choking it out, I suffocated myself, and the pain this caused was unbearable. Instead of just preventing the laughter, I had to stop myself from buckling over, turning my face hot pink in managing the hysteria and the ache.

"Oh, you look as though you want to cry," My Lady said.

My eyes had certainly begun to form tears.

"Let's stop talking about it then. I'll show you around."

Morganite had four main chambers: The front room, the tea room, her home office, and the library. All had grown dusty and at least slightly cluttered without a Pearl, but this wasn't uncommon. Most nobles are far too busy thinking their big, important thoughts to remember to put their books back or to tidy a tea cup.

I wouldn't be surprised if some have never seen a cleaning cloth, too distracted with loftier thoughts to pay attention to a working Pearl.

Cleaning the dust took me several hours before I could even move on to organizing. I didn't see much of Morganite those first few days. We both had plenty to do, but soon enough I had cleared the dust and done the dishes and put back the books, and polished the windows, and bleached the stains from the mirrors, and made the air smell like flowers, and sat down.

After all of that, there was truly nothing more to do.

I stood in the corner of the main room, waiting for Morganite to come back and she arrived not many minutes later. She dipped her head into the room as if testing the waters. Perhaps she worried about finding me nude. Once submerged completely, she said, "Wow, Pearl. It looks amazing," and ran her hands over the complex pattern of her dress, decorated in fashionable but off-yellow diamonds. "How long ago did you finish?"

"It hasn't been long, Madame."

"I don't think I've ever seen it this clean," she walked around, as if exploring the chambers for the first time. Her dark pink hair bounced with the movement of her feet. "I'm truly impressed. You've done a lovely job."

"Thank you, Lady Morganite."

"Would you like some tea?" She spoke as if she hadn't heard me and her voice carried from the library. "You must be tired after all of that cleaning!" She emerged back in the main room, grinning.

I saluted. "That's not necessary, My Lady. I don't need any reward."

"Perhaps you don't need any, but would you like some anyway?"

"If you insist, Madame."

"Well, let's have some tea then."

We sat together on her fainting couch after Morganite insisted on preparing two cups of tea. She asked how much sugar I wanted, and how strong, and brought out my drink first. She then prepared hers and took a spot next to me, blowing away the steam as if serving a Pearl was a normal occurrence. After taking a sip from her own billowing drink, she asked, "What will you do tomorrow, Pearl?" and blinked her flirty lashes.

"I'm not sure, My Lady." I had yet to drink. "Is there anything more you'd like me to do?"

"I'm sorry. I really don't have anything for you. The apartments look wonderful, and there's just nothing more that I need right now." She took another drink. I finally tasted my first sip. "Why don't you do as you please tomorrow? I'm not sure what you like to do, but—" Morganite drained her cup. "You're welcome to take a walk or do you have a friend you can call or…?"

I must have looked at her as if she were insane. I couldn't have kept it off my face. Was she so unfamiliar with the state of our lives or was she trying to get me in trouble?

"Oh, well," Morganite's face popped pinker. "Perhaps your friends will be busy during the day. In any case, you're free to do whatever you feel comfortable with during leisure time. Thank you for making the apartments so tidy."

"Of course, Madame. It's my pleasure."

She then gave me a look I doubt I'll forget. Somewhere between a wince and an unreleased sigh, her mouth bent as her eyes filled with a softness. Releasing some air, she stood and rinsed the cup out in the sink to put it back without drying it off. Something inside me writhed, but before I could die completely, she addressed me again, "Make sure you do a fun activity tomorrow. Alright, Pearl?"

"Yes, Madame. I'll be certain to enjoy myself."

To that, Morganite nodded and went back to her office, leaving me alone with my tea.

The next day came. My mistress told me goodbye and left for work and I went straight after her defenseless books.

Morganite's library was about one tenth the size of Blue Diamond's, but made up for it in the lack of surveillance. Before, I couldn't touch a single treasure in that trove. Unprotected contact between even the tips of my fingers and any page of literature came with a sentence I wasn't willing to serve. She may have shattered me; I didn't know the punishment. But here, Morganite had left. She trusted me alone with her stacks of gold, with nothing to stop me from setting my unworthy fingers over every piece, over every word.

I took her books from the shelves and slapped them onto the table. My first few free days I read so quickly I didn't recall what I had run my eyes over. The feeling of finding so many classics again was like being reunited with friends I thought had died ages ago. I had lost hope and assumed Blue Diamond's library a purgatory forever, but now that my punishment ended, I dove into Morganite's books with hedonistic abandon. Even the act of committing my eyes to the page was the sweetest sin, and having been surrounded with so many names and faces and letters—so many letters—I couldn't remember them all. The hours between her coming and going passed in a haze and I did my best to recall the page numbers I left off on, frantically.

Every day before Morganite came home, I placed myself in the back of the main room and stood politely, and she would greet me.

"Hello, Pearl." Her hands went for the fabric of her gown. "What did you do today?"

"I contemplated, Madame," I answered.

"Well, would you like some tea?"

She would bring me a cup, by her insistence, and tell me about her day—about the gems she interrogated.

Morganite, like many other Beryls, worked for the court and conducted interviews with suspected criminals. Before their trials, she would meet with them, ask them questions, and hold their hands to read the thoughts written across their skin.

"Most of them tell the truth," she said once. "The ones who lie are usually nervous because they fear Yellow Diamond will shatter them. Sometimes she will, but…" She trailed off. "It's better that they be honest. She may be angry, but resources are so scarce these days, Yellow would do just about anything to keep from making more gems unnecessarily—even if they did do something horrible. They still may be punished, but at least they're allowed to live."

Did she know? Was this a game to her?

I drank my tea.

"Well, Pearl. I'm sorry, but I still don't have anything for you. The house is in wonderful condition. What would you like to do tomorrow?"

I took the rim of the glass from my lips. "If you don't mind, My Lady, I'd like to go for a walk."

"That sounds nice."

A pause occurred between us, and I stroked a flower printed on the cup. "My apologies, Madame. I don't mean to be dishonest, but may I request an errand? It's out of place for a Pearl to simply go for a walk. If asked, it would be better to have an assignment."

"Oh," she bent her chubby lips. "Why don't you purchase your favorite flavor of tea? I'll give you the credits."

"Thank you, Madame."

"Not to worry. The Quartz guards can be a little nosey sometimes. In fact, I'll write you a note…" Morganite stood, but before going to find a pen and paper, noticed that my cup was almost empty. She asked, "Would you like more tea?"

"That's not necessary, Madame."

"Oh, come on. You can just tell me what you want." She reached over to take the cup from me, leaving her hands a short space from it.

I swallowed a sigh. "More tea would be lovely, My Lady."

"Wonderful," and as she took the cup, our fingers touched just for a moment. Her big, dark brown eyes opened wide and looked directly into mine as I instinctively wiped the panic from my face. Knowing what I know now, it was pointless.

I wondered how much she got out of that little touch; the fact that I truly did want more tea or my entire life of crime, recorded in my fingerprints like a database of sin?

But Morganite said nothing and replaced my tea while I sat quietly, hands in my lap, the way I was taught to sit. She returned with a replenished cup and surrendered it with a grin and a sigh she didn't release, despite inflating. Like many things, it twisted her heavy brows, but she went off to write my note, regardless.