You Are Mine (Mine #1)(47)

“Try it for a couple nights. It may seem strange at first, but soon you'll be asking for it. I promise to have your chocolate in the morning.”

I take the proffered cup. It doesn't sound like anything a person should drink, only calves. Her eyes are so big and her smile so encouraging, I find myself taking a sip anyway. My face scrunches. It's not right.

She laughs. “Try it a few more times. If you don't grow to like it by next week, I'll quit pestering you.” She pulls a chair beside me and pours her own cup of milk. “Now then, what sort of things do you expect of me? Is there a particular way you like things done?”

I set my cup down. “No. I don't think so.”

“There's got to be something.”

“What type of things are you expected to do?”

She studies me. “Is this a test or don't you really know?”

I shift in my seat. “We had servants at the house, one for mother, but mostly they did things for Father. My sisters and I helped with chores and taking care of each other. I can't imagine needing a servant. The only one I've ever had for myself is Phyllis, whose job you are replacing.”

“It's hard for me to understand that. Families in Envado aren't big like yours. Usually they have one child, maybe two.”

“The only big families are those who produce a lot of boys. Once they have a girl though, they stop. And families like mine who can't produce a boy.”

“I see.” Her brows draw together. “Sisters would have been nice, I think. But as for being your servant, I can help with dressing and cleaning. Drawing baths, doing your hair and face paint, bringing you treats, delivering notes. I'll help with the ball of course.”

“It sounds like too much. I'm fine with doing things myself. Except for planning the ball. That I could use help with.”

She finishes her milk and sets down the cup. “I'll help with that, but Zade said I was going to get paid extra for it, so I'll need some other duties. Let's start with this one.” After grabbing my brush, she stands behind me. Part of me wants to be grateful for her help, but the other part is resentful that she's taking it from me. “Your hair is so long. It must be hard to take care of.”

I shrug. “We aren't allowed to cut our hair, only trim it. With so many sisters, we take care of each other's hair. But being here, I've been doing it on my own. Until Phyllis came that is. Sometimes Cynthia and I still assist one another.”

“Well, I'm a bit rusty at doing hair, but I'll soon remember and can help make up for your other sisters not being here.”

The brush moves over my hair as if one of my sisters was using it. Once she's done, she turns down the covers.

“If you need anything, feel free to ring for me.”

“I will.” Except I won't. It seems odd to have someone at my beck and call.

She gives a half smile, as if she knows what I'm thinking. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Once she's left the room, I climb into bed. Yes. The strangest woman I've ever met. I blow out the candle and pull the blankets over me. Strange. I think I like her.

***

A noise startles me awake. Moonlight shines through my window. What woke me? I stretch out on my back. Usually it's one of my younger sisters that wakes me, scared or in need of a drink. That chore usually goes to Cynthia or Bethany, but sometimes it falls to me. Won't happen here though. Unless Cynthia comes, which she hasn't in the two and a half months we've been here.

The door is closed. It's hard to tell in the dark, but I don't see her coming toward the bed. Maybe it was something in my dream that woke me.

I curl up on my side, facing my window seat. I wonder how Cynthia's getting along. Many times I've awakened in the night at Father's, she was up. If I can't get back to sleep, maybe I'll go visit.

My eyes give a heavy blink. My limbs relax. Tomorrow then. I'll see her tomorrow. My eyes close. Then I jolt awake. Did that shadow just move?

Sleep flees from me. My body tenses. The shadow isn't moving anymore, but I can't think of any object in my room that would cast it. It's a lumpy, round shape, sort of like a person crouching. Someone's in my room.

Do I feign sleep or call for help? Who would even be in here? Has the Envadi come for me? I swallow, trying to force the fear down. The action does no good. If it is him, no one may come for help, but I won't sit by and do nothing.

There's nothing close by I can use to defend myself. The best I can do is ring for help and try for the door. Where to go after that? I don't know if anywhere is safe. I hope someone comes when I ring.

With several deep breaths, I bolt from the bed, yanking on the cord as I pass. The rope burns my hands as it slides through. I dart for the door, not daring to check behind me. It's still too far away when hands grab my waist and I'm knocked to the floor. My head bangs against the wood. Blood fills my mouth. I thrust my head back, slamming into my attacker. He grunts.

Hands scramble across me. I claw at them.

“Wenchit!” A tenor. Not the Chancellor. Who's attacking me?

The pressure lifts off me. I scramble on my hands and knees toward the door. Before I get more than a few feet, I'm flipped over onto my back. Meaty fingers wrap around my wrists and hold them above my head. He smells of damp earth and body odor, sort of like Thomas.