You Are Mine (Mine #1)(32)
I rub my forehead. Katherine stands, walks over to me, and wraps her arms around me. The touch makes me stiffen.
“It's fine to be scared, Serena. You can make it through this. I know you can.”
It's strange to have another person touch me, but I collapse against her, the contact more comforting than I expected. A tear escapes. Blinking, I try to prevent any more from coming. After a minute, she eases away. “You can make it through this.”
I nod, but don't know if I can.
“Good. I wish I could be there to help you get ready, but I'm afraid my presence would make things worse. Let me help with what I can today.”
“Thank you, for bringing this and working so hard on it.”
“Don't thank me, yet. You haven't opened it.”
I tug at the strings trying to keep my fingers from shaking. Once the strings are loose, I pull the wrapping back. My fingers brush against the satin as I hold the dress. The feel of it is different from any other dress I've owned.
“It's perfect.”
“I'm happy you like it.” She spends the next ten minutes showing me how to get in and out of it by myself. After I've practiced a few times, she helps me into my original gown and wraps up my new one. “Try to get dressed as close to the ceremony as you can. The fewer people that see you in the dress beforehand, the more likely you'll be able to wear it.”
“There are going to be problems?”
“You're breaking rules wearing this, so yes, there'll be problems. Can you manage them?”
“It's what I want, so I'll figure it out.” At least I hope I can.
She hands me a parcel. “Some ribbons for your hair if you decide you want them. I'd best be off.”
I hold the parcel close to me. “Why have you done so much for me?”
“You paid me.”
“No, it's more than just me paying for your services. You care. I didn't even know tarnished could care. Why do you?”
Her lips form a thin line. “People like me are more than you've been taught.”
“Oh.” Guilt heats my face.
Does this mean she's not the only kind tarnished? Not the only one who's more than a shadow? Is that true, or does she just want it to be? It's hard to think all those years of them being only in the background, and being told they aren't even real people, were wrong. But I've trusted her this far.
“I feel like I owe you something more. What else can I give you?”
“Nothing. You just be as strong as you can for the ceremony. I'll visit afterward when I can.”
“This means so much to me.”
She gives me another embrace. “I'm grateful to help.”
Chapter Fourteen
I tug at my robe, wishing I could put my dress on. Though if I could, it would mean it was time to go and I don't want that either. I'm not ready to go, just ready for it to be over. The tiny dressing room in the hall where the engagement ceremony takes place, feels smaller with Phyllis hovering. Its bland walls are adorned with an oval mirror and table with face paint pots and a jewelry box. I'm in the only chair, leaving Phyllis to hover over me.
She sets a tea cup before me. “Drink up.”
I eye the earthy smelling tea. “I'm not sure I—”
“Drink it. Your Father said if you didn't, I'm to get him. Is that what you want?”
For a lower class servant, she's not as docile as I'd expect. I grab the cup.
“Good. As soon as you're finished I'll do your face paint.”
“I'll do it myself.”
She grunts and moves behind me. Her fingers rake through my hair. She reaches for a black ribbon.
“Wait, use the red one.”
Her mouth purses. She picks it up as if it were a bug. “Why's it red?”
I breathe deeply, trying to pull in strength. “I just wanted a small bit of color.”
The corner of her lips pull to one side and she ties the ribbon around my hair. “Now, let me help you dress.”
“I would prefer to wait. I don't want to crease it.”
“Jewelry?”
“After I dress. I don't want it to snag the cloth.” She takes a step toward the door. What if she goes for Father? “Perhaps if you helped me with a small piece, it won't harm the dress.”
Her face relaxes a little. She drapes me with jewels. A ring on every finger and a few on my toes, a reminder of the fewest warlocks I'm to have, though it didn't work well for mother. Seven necklaces, reminders of my fiancee’s claim. They feel like chains, weighing me down. An arm band, five bracelets, and five anklets on each limb feel the same. But no earrings. Nothing to block me from hearing the requests of my future husband.
“There now. That's the last jewelry you'll ever wear. When your owner takes it off tonight, you'll never don another. Would you like me to help you into the dress your mother sent?”
I hide a grimace at the slight thing. “No, thank you. It's the only time I can dress myself.” Which is true, but not in the way she thinks. She doesn't move. “Alone, if I may.”
“You haven't sipped your tea.”
The cup is cold in my hands. I put it to my lips and sip. The liquid is tepid and tastes of leaves and dirt.