INEJ
I sit in the garden, avoiding the party preparation. I know I should be up in my room, getting dressed for what is sure to be a beautiful night. Instead, I have sought out the tranquility of the garden to soothe me. I woke up with this morning with a feeling of trepidation that I cannot shake.
I sit on the swing for as long as I can but nervous energy causes me to pick a path and follow it towards the opposite end of the garden. The stepping stones are some kind of white marble shot through with light streaks of gray, the edges softened by weather. My bare feet make no sound as I pad along, forcing myself to focus on the beauty that surrounds me. Still, my concentration is broken by stabs of anxiety so intense that make it difficult to catch my breath.
Not like that wasn't already an issue. Despite Ashiana's frequent treatments, my lungs are not fully healed yet. I'm not sure they ever will be. From what she could sense, my lungs felt as though they had been scalded inside, making it impossible for them to function. She managed to soften the lining enough that they could inflate without cracking open. She had to do that while blocking off my lower left lobe, which was rapidly filling with fluid from the puncture wound made by my broken rib.
"It's a miracle you survived at all. One of the saints must be watching over you." I smile at the memory. Our friendship was cemented only a few days after the explosion. I heard her praying to the saints, asking for their aid in healing me. Since then, we have bonded over our shared faith. It is not often one finds another with faith like ours in the midst of Ketterdam, where wealth is religion.
I find myself at the end of a path and sigh. I look up at the sun, dipping lower than I expected. I will have to hurry now. As I walk back, I see Marian approaching.
"Ms. Ghafa, you must come now. Guests will be arriving in two hours. You must be dressed and ready to receive them." Another sigh. I'm not sure why I agreed to stand in the receiving line with Wylan and the rest of their Van Eck's. It may have had something to do with Jesper's frantic pleas not to leave him stranded.
"I need someone to help me enjoy myself. More than twenty of these merchers in one place makes me skittish. A whole line of them, waiting to greet me, sounds like torture." Jesper and I will be at the end of the line, following Wylan, Marya, and Alys. Plunje will be introduced after the festivities have started.
I nod and trail after Marian. When we arrive at my room, two other maids I'm unfamiliar with wait, ready for instructions.
"I don't think this is necessary. I'm just putting on a dress." Marian motions the maids to the closet but leads me into the dressing room across from my bedroom.
"Sit here, please." I take a seat on a cushioned bench, a small table with a variety of hair brushes and other tools of which I am unsure of the purpose in front of me. Marian starts brushing my hair and, after a moment, I relax. I haven't had someone brush my hair is so long. My mother used to sit behind me and brush it before a show until it shone. Then, she braided it into a crown so it would sit regally upon my head, well out of the way. Sometimes, depending on the season, I would pick flowers and she would braid them into it. Other times, I'd explore her ribbons and beads and beg her to include them.
I'm brought back to the present when the soothing motion stops. One of the other maids approaches and they discuss hairstyles quietly.
"We would like to try a special braid Niamh recommends. She says it will work well with your thick hair." I shrug. I've had one hairstyle since I left the Menagerie. I value function over style. However, if they want to try something new, I have no objections.
"Go ahead," Niamh steps forward. She starts at my right brow, her fingers deftly twisting sections together. Every other loop she drops a section, picking up another one slightly farther down. The braid slowly descends as it rounds my head. She pauses at the back, reaching for a black hair tie. She does the same thing on my left side, completing it where it meets the other. She removes the tie from the right section and I can feel her twisting the two together. This time, I see Marian hand her a white ribbon. She ties the two together and stands back.
"Again?" Marian nods. Niamh begins again on my right, closer to my ear. This braid is looser, brushing gently against my neck. Once again, she ties it off until the left side joins it. Marian hands her another white ribbon. They both back up and smile. The third maid enters carrying a strand of pearls. Marian approaches and they discuss. Marian turns to me.
"Ms. Ghafa, we would like to add these." I look at them with some confusion.
"To my hair?" While I enjoyed ribbons and beads woven in my braids as a child, these expensive-looking pearls don't look like they're meant for hair.
"Yes, ma'am. They will drape between the two braids." I shrug.
"I don't have much of an opinion. If you think it will look good, I trust you." Marian gives me a small smile.
"Thank you." The third maid approaches and carefully clips the pearls to the hair behind my ears.
"Would you like to see, miss?" Without waiting for an answer, they pull out a handheld mirror. From the front, I look as though my hair is up. None hangs over my shoulders. Marian retrieves a larger mirror and stands behind me. I hold up the handheld mirror and adjust it so I can see in the glass. I gasp.
The back looks gorgeous. The braids are identical, both tied off with perfect bows. The pearls sit exactly between the two. The rest of my hair cascades down my back, curling slightly in it's gently separated sections.
"That's incredible." I can see them all nodding to each other.
"Please turn around." I follow Marian's instructions happily, ready for whatever she presents. Niamh disappears into the sitting room, returning with a round, flat tin. She sets it on the table and gently pulls it open. I can feel the sinking sensation start, the press of memories, unexpected and wholly unwanted. The maids notice immediately and the top is quickly replaced.
"I'm sorry, miss. Are you alright?" I blink, trying to forget the container of kohl. Every night, Tante Helene would come in to examine my makeup. For months, she insisted that the kohl wasn't thick enough.
"They want exotic girls," she'd remind me. "This isn't nearly enough." She'd watch me as I dipped the brush back into the black ink and carefully thickened the lines surrounding my eyes. I didn't want them to see me as exotic. I didn't want them to see me at all. I pull myself roughly from the memories, my fingernails biting into my palms.
"Yes," although my answer is barely audible. "Yes, I'm alright now," my voice stronger this time. She pats my shoulder.
"Let's get you into your dress, shall we?" My smile is shaky as I follow her into the closet. It's larger than any closet has need to be, bigger than two of my room at the Slat. They already have the dress out. It's clearly been pressed, the lace and frills laying flat.
The off-white brocade bears the vague imprint of flowers over the entirety of it. The back is open and I step into it. They lift it up and I slip my arms into the short sleeves, ruched together with the ivory lace that lines much of the dress. It settles low across my shoulders, exposing much more than I'm used to. I can feel them button it up, each silk-encased button slid carefully into place until it reaches mid-back. Here, it is tied off with a gold ribbon, long tails trailing down past my waist.
It's still the most beautiful dress I've ever seen. The top is encircled by nearly a quarter yard of off-white fabric, hanging freely down to mid-chest, ending with another inch or two of the ivory lace, which I was informed is appropriately called eburnean.
The bodice is form fitting but not tight. It isn't straight across my waist, as most dress are. It dips low in a V down my stomach, the line accented again by the ivory lace. The bottom is brocade as well but it is covered in a sheer fabric that ends in large swooping scalloped edges embroidered with gold. The golden embroidery climbs the fabric with swirling impressions of vines and flowers, starting between each dip of the scallop. The very bottom is an exposed ivory under layer that bears cross-hatched gold lines.
I gaze at myself in the mirror and am suddenly absurdly glad I never owned anything this fine in the Menagerie. I would hate for any of those memories the mar the beauty of this dress. One of the maid sighs behind me.
"You are beautiful, miss. Prettier than any picture I've ever seen." The other two nod in agreement.
"Thank you," I smile. "Do you think Ashiana is ready? I'd like to visit her when she's done." One of the girls laughs.
"Yes, miss. She's done. I think she started getting ready when she woke up. I've never seen anyone so excited about a dress." I remember Ashiana's deep dimples of pleasure when she beheld the dress for the first time.
"It is a rather exciting dress," I add. "I'll go-oh." I turn back to find Marian holding my soft gold slippers and evening gloves expectantly. We found the shoes in a shop next to the miller's. They are ballet shoes and when I put them on, I knew they were mine. Their soft bottoms reminded me of my first set of tightrope shoes. Marian laces them quickly and finishes them off in a better bow than I've ever tied in my life.
"Thank you again," I smile.
"It's been our pleasure, miss."
"Please call me Inej. All this Ms. Ghafa formality has to stop." They laugh.
"We will try, m-Inej." I nod and exit. Ashiana's room is only two doors down from mine. I knock softly and within seconds, her door is thrown open. I stop for a moment. While I saw her fitted for the dress, the finished product is outstanding.
"Oh Ashiana, you're gorgeous," I murmur appreciatively. She laughs quietly.
"I'm nothing compared to you. I thought that dress was beautiful in the closet-" she shakes her head.
"You're going to outshine the birthday girl. Hopefully, she won't be too put out." I wave my hand and give her dress another once over. The big rose-colored bow over her bust is just the beginning of the ostentation. Below, pink ribbons cross over multiple times until they reach her waist.
However, what really catches the eyes are the flowers. Sewn into the porcelain white cotton, they burst forth in different shades of pink and red, surrounded by forest green vines. They weave their way down from the right shoulder, across the bodice, to the left hip. Another flurry curves around the right side, about mid-calf, reaching longingly to join the accumulation above. A particularly large flower, the same color as the bust bow, draws the eye to her left thigh. There, the over skirt is lifted so it drapes over a green underskirt that matches the vines.
Her gloves lay on the table behind her. I motion to them.
"Would you like to head downstairs? I'd like to see the decorations before the herd of guests ruin them."
"Of course, let's go. I know Wylan won't let us help and there's absolutely no way we're putting ourselves in a position that might harm our dresses but I think we should offer all the same," she says as she grabs her gloves. I loop my arm through hers and we descend the stairs slowly.
When we reach the bottom of the stairs, we take a right and continue down a hallway. I don't normally go to this part of the house. The dining room is to the left. I've had no reason to explore the ballroom and the ornate wood doors are always shut. They are still shut now but where there was only darkness beneath the bottom, now light peeks through. Ashiana steps forward and pulls. The door only budges a little and she leans back, hauling it open slowly.
The sight that greets our eyes puts me in mind of a palace. The floor is sand-colored marble that seems to shine in the bright lights. Potted trees are placed around the room, filling corners and areas beside upholstered benches and the long refreshment tables. Every table is covered in perfectly-pressed white cloth, edged with intricate designs that end a foot or so from the floor.
Silver punch bowls top the tablecloths, with room left between for trays laden with hors d'oeuvres that will arrive just before the guests do. The walls are a rich mahogany but that is not what makes them striking. Murals are framed by the wood, ten inlaid across each wall. Together, they make forest that stretches around the entire room, some with animals, some simply with trees. Each wall depicts a different season. Across from this door is spring, cherry trees and redbuds bearing red, pink, and white blossoms. Birds rest in their branches. Snow drops droop below them along with a variety of day lilies, daffodils, and irises. An occasional rabbit in between them. Tulips springs up from the ground where grass has yet to show. To the right of it, across from the main doors, is summer.
Now the trees are full of lush green foliage. They are no longer the perky spring flowering trees but live oaks, their long branches sprawling across the canvases, dripping with dusty Spanish moss. A mother deer and fawn stand, sheltered beneath them. Low grass and a variety of ground covers weave about below them. Several shades of begonias grow in the areas where sunlight finds it way through the trees. There are a few clearings completely uncovered by the oak's low, far-reaching branches. There, sunlight bursts forth, blanketing the area. These patches are punctuated by poppies, clusters of purple verbena, and mounds of daisies.
Ashiana and I walk into the center of the room slowly. I turn and look at the wall where we entered. Here, the leaves have changed. Yellow aspens and ginkgo bilobas, orange sassafras, and red sugar maples, explode across the wall. The ground is covered in all colors of chrysanthemums and purple asters. A red fox is hidden among them, almost unidentifiable in the riot of flowers and foliage.
Finally, winter surrounds the main doors. Here, evergreen pines, spruces and cedars are weighed down with pristine snow. A white hare nibbles on a apricot winter rose. More of the hellebores bear soft pink, white, and light purple blooms, their dark green, glossy leaves stark against the snow. Groups of pansies and violets also give the ground some color.
I turn and look at Ashiana, her face mirroring my look of astonishment.
"I've never seen anything like this." She shakes her head.
"Me neither. It's even more beautiful than the garden. Have you seen the ceiling?" I tear my eyes away from the forest scenes and look up. Long cylinders made of yellow glass held together by intricate wrought iron, green and red circles interspersed within it, softly light the room. That isn't what truly grasps the attention though. The ceiling is a dark blue, tiny white lights twinkling like stars, gathered in realistic constellations.
"I think I need to sit down," I move toward one of the benches, this one a light green that matches the summer scene it rests against. Red benches are pushed against the fall wall, blue for winter, and off-white for spring.
We sit together, marveling at the magnificence of the room, until a maid bustles by, carrying a large tray.
"I guess we should get up," I say, making no move to do so. It isn't until several more servants pass us that we find it in ourselves to move. Wylan and Jesper enter from the doors in the spring wall.
"Ladies, I'm surprised you beat us here. I thought females were supposed to take an absurdly long time to get ready." He gives us both a once over, whistles and greets us with a low bow. "You two make quite a pair. I'd bet my guns your dance cards fill up faster than a bowl under a waterfall but..." he glances at Wylan "I'm not one to make unnecessary gambles," he finishes with a grin. We both laugh.
"The maids were very helpful in making sure we had enough time to get ready. We were just admiring the room. It's incredible. I've never seen anything like it." Wylan shrugs as though it's beauty is commonplace. Jesper nods.
"I know. I walked around in here for hours when I first saw it. There are more animals hidden in the paintings if you look closely. Wylan over here was around for its creation so he is irrationally unimpressed." Wylan gives him a lopsided smile.
"I wouldn't say I'm unimpressed. Simply well-accustomed to it. And most of those hidden animals were my additions. I'm sure my father would die if he knew I so much as touched the murals. But-" another shrug. "I was young and a rather precocious artist convinced I could make them even better. Thankfully, I didn't mess any of them up. Now," his voice switching to a more business-like tone. "Alys and my mother will be down in a moment. The guests are set to arrive in about twenty minutes. Ashiana, feel free to float around the room or enter later, whichever you prefer."
"I think I'll look for some of those hidden animals while you all enjoy the receiving line," she gives me a wink, knowing I'm thoroughly unenthusiastic about the activity. Wylan nods. It is at this moment that the huge doors open and Marya and Alys enter, as if on queue. They arrived only last night and I haven't had the chance to say hello. Alys has somehow returned to her tiny size in the few months since Plunje was born.
Both Marya and Alys's dresses are blue; Marya's dark and Alys's light. Marya's has silver thread woven into it at the waist and below the knee to the end. The sleeves are long, ruched about mid-arm, where lace bursts out of it, the thick folds hanging down until it reaches her hands. Alys's dress appears sleeveless but, in actuality, her chest and arms are covered in pale sheer fabric, which ends at her wrists with cuffs of golden lace. Her light blue dress is covered in the same sheer fabric and is heavily embroidered with gold at the bodice all the way to the floor.
"You both look lovely," Jesper says as he steps forward. Wylan leans toward his mother, placing a kiss on her cheek, nodding in agreement. Alys looks ready to burst. I can feel energy bubbling out of her from several feet away.
"I'm so excited," she gushes. "I can't wait to see everyone. And Plunje was in such a good mood when we left. It's like she knows everyone is here to see her. Her dress is blue, like mine. She looks like a baby princess," she would have probably continued rambling if Marya hadn't patted her hand. Alys looks at her adoringly and I'm struck by how close they truly are. The love shared between them is visible to anyone who glances at them. Alys may be simple but Marya is not. There is intelligence in her eyes outweighed only by the gentleness that is apparent in every move she makes. Alys casts a glance around the room.
"Everything looks wonderful, Wylan. Thank you so much. I didn't think anything could make your mother's murals stand out more but the potted plants really add to it." My eyes widen and I stare at Marya for a moment.
"You painted these?" I ask softly. Marya nods.
"I love to paint. It is one of the few things that can bring my happiness no matter where I am." A dark look flits across her face for a moment and is gone.
"Marya, these are-"
"Magnificent," Ashiana finishes for me.
"They-" I shake my head. "There are so many words yet none of them can fully describe how incredible they are."
"Thank you," she smiles kindly. "It is good to see you again, Inej. I hope you will stay with us longer this time."
"Perhaps. I am very much enjoying my stay. I would like some time to get to know you better." Wylan steps forward.
"Mother, this is Ashiana. The healer I told you about." Ashiana stands and sweeps an impressive curtesy.
"It is an honor, ma'am."
"Call me Marya." Ashiana ducks her head graciously in assent.
"Mother, Alys, we are about to line up to receive the guests. Would you like anything before we start?" Both shake their heads in unison.
"Then here we go," I follow Jesper to the door. Wylan, Marya, and Alys step into place, followed by Jesper and I. I take a deep breath, the trepidation I felt earlier returning for a moment.
"Don't be nervous," Jesper whispers to me. "You could probably dispatch all of them in moments." I laugh and he smiles. "You truly do look wonderful. Better than Alys, but don't tell her that."
"I don't think it would matter. She seems ecstatic. I just-" I stop, wondering whether I should confide my anxiety in Jesper. He looks on expectantly. "I've been a little anxious today, that's all. I'm sure it's nothing." He pulls me into a quick, one-armed hug.
"You can't be any more nervous than I was at my first mercher meeting. I couldn't just make things up, like I did with the oil presentation. I was sure they were going to eat me alive. Wylan spent a good thirty minutes explaining why I couldn't take my guns." The thought of Jesper arriving at a business meeting, guns at the ready, sets me giggling as I try, desperately, not to break into a full laugh. Anxiety at rest for the moment, I look toward the doors as they are carefully pulled open by two manservants dressed in fine livery.
Crowd doesn't begin to describe the line of people waiting on the other side. While they are orderly, the din of many voices all chatting excitedly at once is nearly overwhelming. Another deep breath and I attempt a smile. I look at Jesper and he gives me a wink. I remember his story and a real smile breaks through. Then the announcements begin. Each person, couple or family is announced as they enter. By the third arrival, I've started tuning them out. I focus entirely on alternating between smiling, nodding, or hastily greeting them. By the time they reach Jesper and I, their eyes are focused on the room, for which I am thankful. Their attention mostly diverted, I don't have to worry too much about what I do. The line seems to go on forever, the faces blurring as I spare only a glance for each one.
"Do you think we're almost done?" I whisper to Jesper quickly when the music starts up. He shakes his head.
"We had one of these before, not long after you left, and it took over an hour. I thought my face was going to fall off from all the smiling." The next couple reaches us and we both smile automatically, although mine lost it's genuineness a while ago.
Another couple is announced and they hold up the line for a minute as they stop and happily greet Marya. Many are surprised to see her, although word of her re-entry to the house happened long enough ago that the shock has worn off. I turn my gaze from the line for a moment, looking longingly at the refreshment table. With a heavy sigh, I turn back.
My breath sticks in my throat as I see him approach. His eyes widen in surprise for a moment before a knowing, almost predatory grin, sets in. I brush against Jesper, moving closer to him, as I try not to collapse. My palms begin to sweat in my gloves, my body hot and cold all at once. The memories accost me.
"I want the Suli girl."
"She's new. Came in about a week ago. I can't promise she'll be well-behaved. She tends a little to tears." A terrifying smile.
"Good."
I'm going to fall. I cannot fall. I have to move. I have to run. But by then, it's too late. He passes Jesper quickly and takes my hand before I can snatch it away. He leans close, too close, and I am frozen, my muscles tight, my entire body rigid with fear. The press of bodies is so close and I am trapped, unable to flee.
"Strip for me." I shake my head, vision growing blurry as I try not to cry, and he's on his feet instantly.
"Well, well, what a pleasant surprise. I wasn't aware the Van Eck's kept such sullied company," his words are a whisper, meant only for me. He looks straight into my eyes and I'm cannot look away, paralyzed by terror. I feel as though I will be sick if he stays a moment longer. He notices my reaction and I can tell it pleases him.
Hands in my hair, jerking my head back, enjoying my tears.
"I said, strip."
"I'll make sure to find you again later. For a dance, perhaps? I always did enjoy the way your body moved." He gives me fingers a squeeze and steps back, the picture of civility. Jesper glances at me and then looks again. I stand, stock still. He nods to the person in front of him and turns to me, guiding us away from the line for a moment.
"Inej, what is it? You're white as a sheet and I didn't think that was possible." The concern in his voice does nothing to calm me. The anxiety that gripped me earlier is nothing compared to the pace of my heart now. It races along and I cannot catch my breath. I'm moments away from truly hyperventilating.
"Let's go. I'm going to find Ashiana."
"No," I gasp. "No, don't leave me." I'm begging but I don't care. I cannot face that monster alone.
"Ok, we'll find her together." We turn toward the tables and walk, slowly, making our way carefully through the crowd. I can see Jesper looking around me but all I can do is look at the ground, terrified I will see him again. We are close to the servant's door and I grab his arm.
"Get a servant. I'll go with one of them to the kitchen." Jesper gives me a strange look but something in my face convinces him. A servant walks by carrying a tray and Jesper stops him.
"Serna," he says quietly and she turns toward us.
"Take Ms. Ghafa with you. She needs some air." Serna gives me a look and motions me to follow with her free hand. I nod to Jesper.
"Thank you," I whisper. His brow is furrowed and he pulls me into a quick hug.
"I'll come check on your later, ok?" I nod and quickly follow Serna. The servant's door is small and made of the same mahogany as the walls. A plant is placed strategically in front of it and it's nearly invisible if you're not looking for it. We descend the stairs and the noise level lowers, although the clatter of trays rattles around the corridor. The walls seem to be closing in on me and my uneven breathing hitches even more.
Down one level and I pause as we pass the door to the lower level. Only the servants come down here but I know that up the stairwell to my right is the private entrance to the garden. Wylan told me a couple days ago that they were locking the doors to the garden so that none of the guests would come in and trample the plants.
"Serna, I'm going to the garden. Is the servant's door unlocked?" She shakes her head.
"No, but I can grab the key. Marcof has it and he's just down here, making sure everything is in order."
"Will you get it, please? I will meet you there." She nods although her eyes convey her worry. I scramble up the stairwell and rest against the door, trying to calm my breathing. Quicker than I thought possible, she returns and unlocks the door.
"Are you sure you'll be alright, miss?"
"Yes, I just need some air. Please-" I look behind me "-please lock the door behind me." With that, I plunge out the door and into the darkness.