7. Sage
Sage
Amaid sat behind me, rolling the final curler in my hair before stepping away to steam my dress.
My whole day was slept away, which wasn’t surprising.
I tried to sleep a bit last night, but that dream kept coming back.
I normally only had it around the anniversary of the accident, but it came back to me now.
The feeling of the water rushing around me.
Being dragged under. That final breath leaving my lungs.
Drowning was a feeling I’d never been able to truly describe to anyone. The feeling of the air in your lungs going stale, the fight between your body trying to force you to intake, and your brain knowing if you do you’re dead was something I would never forget.
The dream always had me waking coughing and choking, remembering that impossible tightness.
It had only been a couple hours at most, judging from where the moons sat in the sky.
I’d let myself toss and turn for what felt like an eternity before deciding just to get up and try to get on with my day.
I’d thrown on a linen day dress; nothing fancy, but it was comfortable.
As I’d walked the garden, I had noticed the plants. Most treated them like weeds, but I knew better. It took me a while to find the gardening shed. There were probably maids inside preparing breakfast and such, but no one had been gardening at that hour.
What was unexpected was that man from the night before. He rolled up his sleeves and got right to work, when after my behavior he should have been running for the hills.
I truly hoped he’d been able to plant all the rest of the flutoras. It would be a shame for them to go to waste, but there was nothing I could do about it now.
A knock sounded at the door. The maid steaming my dress put it down, as if silently asking if she should get it. I gave a quick nod and she moved to the door, clicking it open.
Paige came in, already prepped for the night. Her hair was done in intricate plaits and her green silk dress had white lace trim along the entire edge.
“Sage, I need your help,” she said, sounding half hysterical.
“What is it?” I asked, assuming an emergency.
“My dress ripped!” she exclaimed, pointing down to the hem at the bottom. Indeed, it looked as if she stepped on the bottom by accident and the lace trim had detached from the skirt, leaving it drooping on the floor.
I leaned down, one of the curlers falling from my hair, and examined it. “It’s not that bad. It came apart at the seam, so I can fix it.” And luckily, the silk hardly frayed, so it should be easy to hide.
“You’re a lifesaver.” Paige flopped down on my bed, falling as if in despair. Though even in her despair, she was sure not to flop too hard, for risk of ruining her hair. “I thought the whole night was going to be ruined.”
“Didn’t you bring like… five dresses?” I asked.
“Yes,” she agreed, “but Octavio’s favorite color is green.”
I went over to her with my needle and thread, sitting next to her on the bed and started seaming it back together.
“I think it’s a nice color on you too,” I said.
She smiled. “I know, one of my best.”
I continued sewing along the hem as Paige prattled on about everyone who would be there tonight.
“Has anyone caught your eye?” she asked.
The man I met the night before came to mind, but I shook that off. “Not really.”
“No one?” she said. “Normally, you would find someone to spend the night with by now.”
I scoffed. “Well, I guess it hasn’t happened yet.” I needed to stay out of trouble. Who knows how long I’d need to be away if I messed up here. Or worse, locked away until they decided I should be married and make me actually commit.
No thank you.
“I’m sure you’ll find someone tonight,” she said. “I know you’re not into that, but maybe even the one.”
“‘The one,’” I said with air quotes, “doesn’t exist.”
“Nonsense,” Paige said. “Everyone has a one.”
I tried my best not to roll my eyes. I didn’t agree with that. Sure, you’d likely end up finding someone with a similar social status you could stand for long enough to spend the rest of your lives with, but I believed that was as close as most people got.
The only real exception I’d ever seen were my mothers. They were so clearly in love it was almost gross. But that doesn’t happen every day. Most days, for that matter.
And I didn’t expect it to happen to me.
“I know I have a one,” Paige continued.
“Oh yeah? How?”
“Octavio is so my one.”
My brows shot up, unable to hide my surprise. “How can you be so sure?”
“When you know you know,” she sighed dreamily. “We just have so much chemistry, it’s crazy.”
I bit my tongue. He was clear to me in his disinterest last night, but obviously hadn’t been as honest with Paige. But what did I really know about any of it? I could only tell if someone was interested for the night, which was usually the case.
“Will you talk to him tonight?” I asked, diverting a bit.
“Of course,” she said. “Last night he even asked if I was coming tomorrow. Can you believe that? He’s obsessed.”
I wasn’t so convinced, but who was I to rain on her dream? “I’m sure it will be amazing.”
I finished up my last stitch, knotting the end. “All done,” I told her, snipping the thread.
She stood up, running to the mirror and swishing in front of it. “Sage, you are magic.”
I scoffed, putting my stuff away. “I just have a basic skill.”
“Are you almost ready?”
“Just need to finish my hair, and get dressed.” I promised.
I pulled out all the rollers covering my head and shook it out until they fell into soft waves around my face.
Then I was helped into my dress. The one I’d picked for the evening was my favorite pink color, covered in silk flowers, that were dense near the top but thinned out towards the bottom.
The sleeves sat off my shoulders, exposing my entire collarbone, and putting my necklace on full display.
The blue was very vibrant against the pink, making it stand out even more.
I stared at it in the mirror, thinking about trying to tear it from my skin.
I knew it wouldn’t work. Nothing could remove it, certainly not my bare hands.
But sometimes I had to fight the urge to at least try.
Maybe it would work this time.
“Ready?” Paige asked impatiently.
I nodded, following her to the party, trying my best to forget about pulling the necklace clean off my body.
The party was already bustling. The ballroom was packed, some people milling around, others already taking to the dance floor. There was an orchestra playing in the corner and trays of hors d’oeuvre circling the room.
“This is beautiful,” Paige commented, glancing around just like me.
As soon as I stepped on the floor, I felt the typical eyes on me.
Time to turn it on, I reminded myself.
The easy smile I reached for when I needed it, pinned to my face for the evening. I could feel my eyes searching for the man from this morning, but quickly chastised myself mentally to stop. I was being ridiculous.
Though it was a lot of effort he was going through to court me for the evening.
Most men just employed some version of smooth talking, that only worked because I was already on a hunt of my own.
It made me question his motives, but tried not to consider that too deeply.
Because he wasn’t from here, he probably thought I was a much harder partner to snag than I was.
The thought that he may have further interest did… intrigue me. But I wouldn’t let it get to my head. I knew better.
Someone walked by with a tray of wine that I instantly snatched one off of. The bubbly drink went down easily, hopefully curing some of my nerves. We were given a wide berth, waiting for the first brave person to come and talk to the princess.
“I think I see Octavio,” Paige exclaimed, pointing to the far corner. It took a bit of looking but I spotted him, through the crowd on the other side of the room, talking in a group.
“Maybe we shouldn’t—”
“I’m going to go talk to him,” Paige said, not listening to me at all.
“Okay,” I said, “I’ll wait here.”
She gave me a giant smile as she trailed through the room like a woman on a mission. Apparently last night gave her the confidence to talk with him without my initial introduction. Good for her.
But being alone for a moment made me think too much.
About the way I looked, the way I was standing.
Was it weird? Would someone think it felt off?
Was I smiling enough, or maybe too much?
Suddenly, it felt like I was in a dark room with a spotlight pointed directly over at me, everyone’s eyes leering at me, seeing my every imperfection, every flaw right down to the chip in my molar I got when I was nine after Sorcha tripped me down the stairs.
I took deep breaths in and out, but then I worried that would look weird too. Was I breathing weird? Did I even know how to breathe?
“Princess,” someone said, and I snapped around to them, my drink sloshing so hard it almost tilted out of the glass.
It was some noble I was sure I’d met at some other gathering, but couldn’t quite place him.
“Hello,” I said, my voice cracking with nerves.
Moons, pull it together.
He didn’t seem to notice I didn’t remember him. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“You as well,” I said. “It’s been a while.”
It was a swing, but one that could usually be counted on.
“I agree. It’s been months since your sister’s marriage.”
Yes. This was Lord… Kimble? Charlot? Parson?
I’m sure he was one of them.
“Yes, it has.”
“How has she been settling?” he asked.
“Well,” I said. “Marriage looks good on her.”
He nodded. “Yes, it does. I was sure it would be you next, but I don’t see you with anyone tonight.”
“I’m not courting at the moment.” Or ever.
“I saw you with Duke Lexington that evening, and assumed. I apologize.”
I tried to dig into my memory what he even looked like. Dark hair for sure, blue eyes I think. Fairly attractive if the pieces I was remembering proved right.