State of Sorrow (Untitled #1)(17)

“You can’t ever tell anyone,” she made her granddaughter promise. “Your father would be very, very angry.”

“I won’t.” Sorrow had reached for the fabric. “It’s pretty.”

The Dowager First Lady had bundled both Sorrow and the dress into her arms. “One day there will be colours again,” she’d said. “This isn’t for ever.”

Sorrow wanted colours again. Since that day, there had been nights when she had lain sweltering in bed, unable to sleep, and her mind had wandered into the future, a future where she had more control. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t fantasized about having power, even as the reality of it terrified her. She’d imagined a future where she might not have to lie inside a curtained room at the height of summer. A future where sun was allowed to shine through windows. A future where there might be joy in the land once more. As her grandmother had promised.

Sorrow left her friend and entered her wardrobe, crossing to the short railing of formal dresses, all black and austere, and began to thumb through them.

Irris came to stand by her side, her own gaze falling on the clothes before them.

“It would be nice to wear something a little more colourful,” Sorrow said.

Irris rubbed her arm gently. “Something really garish, like, I don’t know. A dark grey? Maybe even a navy blue. You’d look good in sapphire blue.” Irris echoed Sorrow’s earlier thoughts. “It’d work well with your skin. I quite fancy pink. Hot pink.”

Sorrow tried to imagine what her friend would look like in hot pink. Irris was lovely, with her heart-shaped face, deep brown eyes ringed with masses of dark lashes, a strong nose, a generous mouth. In hot pink she’d be devastating.

“Why are you staring at me? Do I have something in my teeth?” Irris asked, snapping Sorrow out of her imaginings.

“I was thinking how very beautiful you are.”

Irris opened her mouth, then closed it, her cheeks flushing a little darker. “Well,” she said, smoothing down her own dress to cover her surprise. “You don’t have to flirt with me, you know you have my vote.”

Despite her mood, Sorrow smiled. “You’re right. I’ll save it for Samad, then.”

Irris gave an unladylike snort. “Indeed. Well…” She began to rifle through Sorrow’s wardrobe. “For tomorrow… Might I recommend something in … black?”

“What else?” Sorrow reached for a tunic and matching trousers.

“Why don’t I send for some wine, and I’ll help you draft some ideas on what we want the new Rhannon to look like?” Irris said.

“We?”

“I said you didn’t have to do it alone. I meant it,” Irris replied. “Besides, the sooner you’re all settled, the sooner I can get back to university.”

“You’ll leave, once I’m chancellor?” A new surge of panic gripped Sorrow’s heart.

Irris’s eyes sparkled as she replied. “Well, that all depends on my pay rise.”

Sorrow jostled her friend out of the way. “Perhaps I’ll make a law that means all students have to wear salmon pink and lemon yellow,” she said slyly. “Salmon-pink and lemon-yellow wool.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Irris said.

“Watch me. If you thought my father was bad, you just wait for the hundred and fifth chancellor.”

Hoping her words weren’t tempting fate, Sorrow sashayed out of the wardrobe, leaving Irris laughing softly behind her.

But Sorrow couldn’t help wishing that Mael had lived. That he was standing where she stood now, facing what she faced.





Wants and Needs

The lamps had burned low, and the wine was all gone by the time Irris rose to leave, some two hours later. They’d started out well, talking about disbanding the Decorum Ward, redistributing money back to the universities so they could teach art and literature courses again. Reopening libraries, theatres, dance halls. But they abandoned writing their plans when the ideas got increasingly silly, and Sorrow declared there would be a national cake day, where everyone had to send her cakes.

“You’ve never even had cake,” Irris said.

“It doesn’t matter. I already know I love it.”

“It is lovely,” Irris admitted.

“How do you – oh, of course.”

“I’m older than you.” Irris smirked. “I had three whole years of cake. And you would love it. Will love it.”

The clock on the wall gave a soft chime, and Irris looked up. “I should go. We’ll both need to be up very early tomorrow.”

The two girls embraced, and Irris left Sorrow humming tunelessly to herself as she prepared for bed. She washed her face and hands, pulled her nightgown over her head and slipped under the sheet.

As soon as she did, the glow from laughing with Irris faded, and fear took its place. This time tomorrow she’d be chancellor presumpt… Preparing for an election… Responsible for all of Rhannon…

Adrenaline forced her out of bed, and into her dressing room. She shoved the endless hangers of black clothes aside, until she found what she was looking for.

There was a hole in the wall the size of a coin, and Sorrow pushed a finger into it, pressing until the hidden mechanism inside released and a section of the wood panelling detached from the rest, revealing a door. The same door Rasmus had used to sneak from her rooms when the stewards had arrived earlier, and the way he’d crept back in after they’d left.