Page 20 of A Yulean Sister’s Guide to Getting Kidnapped

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.