4 Dove #3
Ah! Gather berries! In stories, there was always a woman gathering tasty berries and herbs from the forest. And twigs, I supposed, for various household items. Like…
brooms? Perhaps I’d learn to forage and make brooms and herbal salves, and people would come to me for help.
I wouldn’t charge a thing either. I didn’t exactly need it, with my magic.
And I could cure ailments, and people would just adore me.
The mysterious and humble hermit with the fabulous wardrobe and lifesaving potions.
But, oh yes—I’d have to bring some of my clothes.
What would I wear otherwise, a dress made of ferns?
And my paints and brushes, of course. Petra might need to join as well.
It was such a bother to tend to my hair on my own, and she knew how to condition and style my curls just right. But otherwise, that was it.
I’d never have to use my magic to make these stupid jewels for my parents again, never have to see the disapproval on their faces when I did something mildly incorrect. I’d leave Maerryl in my dust. I could be completely independent, free.
“Do you have something for me, dear?”
Mother’s voice brought me back to reality with a stutter.
She waited, calm poise radiating as she kept her gaze on our view outside. But I could sense her excitement.
I drew the ruby from my skirts and placed it into the hand she offered. Hefting its weight, she brought it up to her eyeline and sighed in contentment.
“Beautiful, dear. This is just beautiful. One of your finest yet, I believe.” She twisted it this way and that, satisfaction written all over her lightly lined face. “I almost hate to give it up. But it will fetch an excellent price for us.”
Tucking the jewel into her own deep pocket, Mother let out a delicate sigh and moved to gather her skirts and rise. “Time to dress for dinner, Dovey. You’re not wearing that, are you?”
Ignoring the jab, I lightly placed a hand on her arm. She paused.
“Mother, I need to talk to you about something,” I said, gathering my courage.
She sighed again but settled back onto the settee. “If this is about your guard, child, I don’t want to hear it.”
I’m not a child. I’m thirty-one, for the goddess’s sake! I thought but bit my tongue.
“She’s not going to work,” I said, trying to keep calm. “She’s horrible. Snarky, obtuse, rude—”
“Darling. I know she’s not quite right. Your father and I certainly would rather find someone with a better background.
It’s not ideal, hiring a peasant for such an important job as protecting our only daughter.
” Mother reached out and patted my hand.
“Yes, Miss Kirim is, perhaps, uncouth. A bit dirty. And not very bright.”
At this, I cringed internally. Mother wasn’t exactly saying anything I hadn’t already expressed, but it sounded so much worse hearing it from her, in that tone of lofty distaste.
She went on, “But she is the best candidate who’s applied. By far. And, frankly, we could not wait any longer. You know how dangerous it is, being someone with your newfound… talents. What if someone discovered? There are nefarious people in this world, Dovey. We must protect you.”
“Perhaps I—” I hesitated. “Perhaps I should stop then. For—for a while, at least. Our accounts are all square now. We’ve hired enough staff, you and Father have reacquired some of your collection, and there should be plenty of coin in our coffers to last at least a little while.
If it’s as dangerous as you say, maybe we should avoid the risk for a time. ”
Mother withdrew her hand from mine.
“Dovey, you’ll be perfectly safe as long as you keep Miss Kirim with you. She has a sterling skill set, judging from her recommendation letters. Did you know she protected a visiting Orlavian prince from three assassins once? Quite impressive.”
I scrambled to find my words, to make her understand. “But—but if I’m not using my gifts, if we stop spending so much gold and gathering suspicion… I won’t need a bodyguard. Don’t you see? I can’t possibly be happy having someone following me all the time, watching me, keeping me from—from living!”
“Oh, enough. Enough, Dovey! I’m sick to death of your whining!
” Mother rose, skirts whirling. She glared down at me.
“So dramatic. You talk as if we keep you locked in your room, a prisoner. Let me remind you now that you are the one who insists on locking yourself away. Those ridiculous magic doors.”
I flinched.
In her most final, imperious tone, she said, “If you want to ‘live,’ go live. No one is stopping you. I can’t fathom what that might mean, when your Father and I strive to provide you with everything you could possibly want here. By all means though, go right ahead.
“But you will accept that Miss Kirim is a part of our lives now. She goes where you go. You do not have to like it, but you will accept it. Do I make myself clear?”
We stared at each other for a long moment. Frustration still boiled within me, but we both knew she had won.
I nodded curtly, once, looking away through the glass walls. The sun had fully set. All I could see was darkness, and the dim reflection of a cowed woman in a thin silk dress mirrored back at me.
Mother rustled away, pausing at the door. “Wear something nice for dinner, darling.”
Even after I knew she was gone, I remained among the soft glow of the lamps, turning our conversation over in my mind until the chill finally got to me. Shivering, I finally blew them out and left.