“Sage,” she chided. She was one of the only people outside of my family who used my name without the title. “We can’t miss this. It’s supposed to be the event of the year! Octavio Kalfin is only going to have a going away party once. We can’t miss it.”
“We’ve been to plenty of parties,” I said. Nothing beat the ones in Quvill. The fae really knew how to throw a party, complete with magical shows and wine that got you tipsy in just a few sips, void of any hard taste. “This one will be no different.”
I was satisfied with the plant now moved to the shade, and everything else seemed fine. After a poor night of sleep, the coming summer heat felt extra harsh. I retreated inside, Paige close on my heels.
“It will,” she insisted. “People are traveling continents to go! And I heard Octavio is quite the catch.”
Ah. She wanted a greeting with him for herself. “You can go without me,” I said. I sat on the edge of my bed, my corset pressing against my waist, the feeling grounding me.
“I can’t. I… it just wouldn’t be as fun without you.”
Before I could continue my argument, she sat next to me. “I’m… worried about you.”
“Worried?”
She nodded. “You seem like you’ve been on edge, like something’s been bothering you these last couple months.”
My teeth sunk into my lip. It was true; since Sorcha left, there’d been a lot more eyes on me it seemed, my family asking many more questions than they normally did. Where are you going so late? Are you just getting home? What do you do all day? It felt like there was a sudden microscope on me that I’d never had, and it only made my anxiety rise, forcing me to leave events early or stay home all together. I was surprised Paige even noticed.
“I do?”
She nodded, sincerity in her eyes. “I think some time away could be good.”
My fingers spun in my lap, never able to stay still. “I’ll think about it,” I said finally.
“Good,” she said. “I’m only thinking about you, you know.”
I wasn’t sure I believed that, but the sentiment was nice to hear anyway. “I do.”
She stood, ensuring there wasn’t a wrinkle in her skirt before continuing on. “I really need to run, but let me know.”
I nodded, watching her go.
After Paige left, I went into the washroom, pulled the door closed, and regarded myself in the mirror. For as often as I gazed at myself, it felt like I didn’t often look. Were the bags under my eyes slightly heavier? Maybe, but it was nothing makeup couldn’t cover. My skin was still as soft as ever, my eyes bright and shining. Many liked to compare them to the ocean.
I hated that.
I then gazed at the necklace, snug against my neck. My dress was low cut today, letting it show. When I was younger, I never wore anything that let anyone see it. I was convinced if I hid it, it didn’t exist. But it was always there, the weight on my neck that never left. Objectively, it was pretty. And it never seemed to do anything. But if I stared long enough, or thought too long, I’d spiral, and I didn’t want that.
Though I didn’t have any real responsibility, I found ways to fill my time. Today was one of those days I decided to do some needlework with some of the other noble women in the drawing room. It was nice on occasion to sit quietly with thread. It gave me time to think, and most of those women didn’t want to talk, so it gave me a moment of peace.
I’d been working on a floral border to one of my simpler dresses. I had tons of frames with different designs inside. A lot of them hung on the walls of my bedroom, but even more sat in a drawer, collecting dust. Another reminder that even when I busied myself, there was no real reason for it.
My fingers moved until the sun started to dip in the sky, and I shook out the feeling of the needle indents in my fingertips. I’d finished the bottom of the dress, happy with the small details I’d been able to get in the center of the flowers. What felt like hundreds of French knots had paid off to the perfect look.
I decided to change into it for dinner. The linen was a bit simpler than I normally preferred, but it was quite warm, perfect weather for it.
Once dressed, I went downstairs. Things like this easily slipped my mind at times. Sybil said I always had my head in the clouds. Mama Elsbeth said I was just a dreamer, whatever that meant.
The table was fully set, almost everyone already in attendance. Sybil was talking with one of her advisors. Mama Elsbeth was chatting with Holland, who had one of his elusive smiles on his face, his cheek dimpling with the unusual motion. Mother was noticeably absent, but sometimes she was late with work things.
When Mama’s eyes caught mine, she reeled me in. “My baby,” she said, standing and coming towards me to hug me.
“I’m twenty-one,” I said, rolling my eyes but letting her hug me anyway.
“I know, but you’ll all always be my babies.”
She leaned away, looking me over. “Is this dress new?”
