A/N Okay, people, I did not did not did NOT write the reviews under my name
on my review page. No, I en't that pathetic yet. (Yes, I have adopted
Lyra's speech pattern) OMG!!! I just realized something. I have to be the
worst author on the face of this planet. I totally forgot about Mary Parry.
Hee hee. Ok, next few chapters will be about her.
Olivia was banging her head on the desk when Anya came in to the room. She raised her eyebrows.
"Hello. Let me guess." She tossed her sleek head of hair, her panther Daemon shaking his fur.
"Margaretta." She giggled. Olivia stuck her tongue out. "Shush." She said crossly. Anya sat on the swivel chair on her desk and drew her knees up, looking like an extremely pleased cat.
"Dance Tonight" She said, mimicking the many signs on the many doors. Olivia bounced in her chair.
"How fun. S'all the fun things around here, the parties."
Anya went in the bathroom to get dressed. Ten minutes later she came out with her hair in two plaits like a schoolgirl, wearing a longish, pleated green-blue plaid skirt and white blouse that looked like a uniform. She had dark eye-shadow accenting her intense brown eyes and mauve-brown lipstick on her expressive lips. She looked like a school girl, needless to say, not accenting her natural beauty. Olivia raised her eyebrows and said rather bluntly
"You're wearing THAT?"
"Yes" Anya challenged.
"There en't nothing wrong with it." Olivia had to fight the urge to gasp at hearing flawless Anya say "En't" Anya sighed and burst into tears. Olivia stared at the Ice Queen Anya, the girl who had never cared what anyone thought of her. Anya quickly recovered and said "It's the only thing I have besides my mother's dress that is much too big for me.
"Can I see it?" said Olivia curiously. Anya took the scarlet fabric out of the bag and Olivia gasped, shocked. The sari was made of silky, soft, crimson fabric, with little silver round mirrors decorating it. It fell to the floor and had golden hemming. It was just Olivia's size.
"Oh Anya, It's spectacular. Oh, Anya." She breathed.
"Do you want to wear it tonight?" Olivia stared at Anya for a little before realizing she was serious. "Yes, oh yes." She said wistfully. Then she pounced on her bed, a cat-Paleem joining her.
She ran into the bathroom and took a long shower, letting the warm water run over her. As she got out, she wrapped the soft robe around her and proceeded to do her make-up. After she had taken the Kohl pencil and lifted her hand to her golden eyes, Anya burst in, wanting to do her make-up. In the half-hour that ensued, no one made a sound as Anya put a light icy pink lipstick and golden eye-shadow on Olivia, and outlined her eyes with heavy Kohl. When she was done, and Olivia looked in the mirror, she didn't recognize herself. She, the ragtag little girl who tore through the streets of Jordan, a St. Sophia's girl, friends with the daughter of a witch queen. Just then, a porter walked through the door. He stopped dead and shook his head to clear his eyes at the sight of Lyra- er, Olivia.
"Miss Lyra?" He said, disbelief coloring his scratchy voice. Olivia laughed, but it was somewhat in embarrassment.
"No, Sir, it's Olivia Silvertongue. I'm her daughter." She had a laugh like bells. The porter wondered why no one had commented on that. He shook his head.
"I apologize, Miss Olivia. You are looking so much like your mother these days." He shook his head again.
"Two letters for you, Miss Olivia, and for you, Miss Serifina." Olivia noticed Anya didn't correct him. Olivia took the letters with her fingers and gasped with pleasure. Her daemon, cat formed, purred like a tank. One was from Will Costa, and one was from her mother. She tore open Will's first. It read, in the scrawling handwriting and bad grammar of a gyptain boy,
Liuviaa,
I try to make the dance tonight. i hope i can. Long way away!! you having a good time and st. sophias? Hope so. We en't having much happening 'round here, 'cept your mom made some discovery. Us gyptains en't understanding it, though. My grandmother, Ma Costa, sends her love, and hopes you are getting learned there so you come back and teach our girls.
Love,
Will
Olivia didn't know what to smile at first. His gyptain name for her, Liuviaa, or that he was coming to the dance. She decided on both. She leaped around, shouting and waving the letter in the air, so loud that Patty Kemp from next door came by with curlers in her hair, asking what the hell the matter was. Next was her mother's letter. It was eight pages long. Olivia curled up in her chair and read it.
Olivia was banging her head on the desk when Anya came in to the room. She raised her eyebrows.
"Hello. Let me guess." She tossed her sleek head of hair, her panther Daemon shaking his fur.
"Margaretta." She giggled. Olivia stuck her tongue out. "Shush." She said crossly. Anya sat on the swivel chair on her desk and drew her knees up, looking like an extremely pleased cat.
"Dance Tonight" She said, mimicking the many signs on the many doors. Olivia bounced in her chair.
"How fun. S'all the fun things around here, the parties."
Anya went in the bathroom to get dressed. Ten minutes later she came out with her hair in two plaits like a schoolgirl, wearing a longish, pleated green-blue plaid skirt and white blouse that looked like a uniform. She had dark eye-shadow accenting her intense brown eyes and mauve-brown lipstick on her expressive lips. She looked like a school girl, needless to say, not accenting her natural beauty. Olivia raised her eyebrows and said rather bluntly
"You're wearing THAT?"
"Yes" Anya challenged.
"There en't nothing wrong with it." Olivia had to fight the urge to gasp at hearing flawless Anya say "En't" Anya sighed and burst into tears. Olivia stared at the Ice Queen Anya, the girl who had never cared what anyone thought of her. Anya quickly recovered and said "It's the only thing I have besides my mother's dress that is much too big for me.
"Can I see it?" said Olivia curiously. Anya took the scarlet fabric out of the bag and Olivia gasped, shocked. The sari was made of silky, soft, crimson fabric, with little silver round mirrors decorating it. It fell to the floor and had golden hemming. It was just Olivia's size.
"Oh Anya, It's spectacular. Oh, Anya." She breathed.
"Do you want to wear it tonight?" Olivia stared at Anya for a little before realizing she was serious. "Yes, oh yes." She said wistfully. Then she pounced on her bed, a cat-Paleem joining her.
She ran into the bathroom and took a long shower, letting the warm water run over her. As she got out, she wrapped the soft robe around her and proceeded to do her make-up. After she had taken the Kohl pencil and lifted her hand to her golden eyes, Anya burst in, wanting to do her make-up. In the half-hour that ensued, no one made a sound as Anya put a light icy pink lipstick and golden eye-shadow on Olivia, and outlined her eyes with heavy Kohl. When she was done, and Olivia looked in the mirror, she didn't recognize herself. She, the ragtag little girl who tore through the streets of Jordan, a St. Sophia's girl, friends with the daughter of a witch queen. Just then, a porter walked through the door. He stopped dead and shook his head to clear his eyes at the sight of Lyra- er, Olivia.
"Miss Lyra?" He said, disbelief coloring his scratchy voice. Olivia laughed, but it was somewhat in embarrassment.
"No, Sir, it's Olivia Silvertongue. I'm her daughter." She had a laugh like bells. The porter wondered why no one had commented on that. He shook his head.
"I apologize, Miss Olivia. You are looking so much like your mother these days." He shook his head again.
"Two letters for you, Miss Olivia, and for you, Miss Serifina." Olivia noticed Anya didn't correct him. Olivia took the letters with her fingers and gasped with pleasure. Her daemon, cat formed, purred like a tank. One was from Will Costa, and one was from her mother. She tore open Will's first. It read, in the scrawling handwriting and bad grammar of a gyptain boy,
Liuviaa,
I try to make the dance tonight. i hope i can. Long way away!! you having a good time and st. sophias? Hope so. We en't having much happening 'round here, 'cept your mom made some discovery. Us gyptains en't understanding it, though. My grandmother, Ma Costa, sends her love, and hopes you are getting learned there so you come back and teach our girls.
Love,
Will
Olivia didn't know what to smile at first. His gyptain name for her, Liuviaa, or that he was coming to the dance. She decided on both. She leaped around, shouting and waving the letter in the air, so loud that Patty Kemp from next door came by with curlers in her hair, asking what the hell the matter was. Next was her mother's letter. It was eight pages long. Olivia curled up in her chair and read it.