You Are Mine (Mine #1)(50)

I glance at the door. If anyone should overhear us talking like this, what would be our fate? I don't want to find out, but I also want to know what she means. “How would you do such a thing?”

“We'd make something work.” She gives my hand a squeeze. “Will you come to me, if you need to?”

I think of what I've been through. Do I want to leave? Truly leave? What would my sisters do without me? “How would I ever promote your dresses if I weren't here?”

She sits back and smiles. “It'd be harder. But the offer stands.” She grabs another skirt and threads a needle.

“Do you mind if I ask a personal question?” I say.

“You can ask. I may not answer.”

“Fair enough.” I shift in my chair, wishing my stitches were good enough to help out. If I could maybe it would keep us away from this conversation. Or at least give the appearance I was doing something useful instead of delving into questions a woman shouldn't ask.

“How did you get to be a tarnished?”

“Ouch!” A dot of blood forms where she pricked her finger.

“Are you all right?” I move to help her, but she stops me with a wave.

“Happens all the time.” She grabs a discarded piece of fabric to dab it with. “I became a tarnished like everyone else. Why do you ask?”

“Father and mother threatened that if I didn't behave, my future husband might force me to become one. I wondered what it was like.”

“Most male tarnished become so at their three-year-old test. Without magic, they're never given a chance to know anything else.” A bitter edge taints her voice.

“You don't agree?”

“Who am I to say what the council laws should be? I'm not a man and certainly not a warlock.”

“But if you were, would you agree?”

“If you were, would you?”

I watch her hands deftly weave the needle in and out of the cloth. Should non-magic men be tarnished from childhood? Should they experience a life more like what I grew up with instead of being tarnished? Living a life of hard labor whether with a warlock or trying to make things work on their own like Katherine? They still have choices, but not as many as the warlocks do.

“Are many tarnished children beaten?”

For the first time since the subject began, she looks at me. “What?”

“I know your men can't hex anyone, but do the caretakers beat them?”

Her lips tighten. “Tarnished children have already been through testing and taken out of their homes. That's hard on any three-year-old. We know better than to beat them.”

“No one ever does?”

“Sometimes it happens, but it's the exception. Personally, I'd never raise a hand to a child and neither would any other tarnished I associate with, man or not.”

Perhaps the compulsion comes with those who use magic. “I think that—”

My door opens. I exchange a look with Katherine. Did they hear us? The conversation is over. For now, at least. Cynthia and Waverly enter with trays of food. I rise to help them, hoping my actions will help them think everything is as it should be.

“This looks delicious,” I say. “I don't know which I'll eat first.”

“You should have seen Phyllis's face when we came to grab a tray,” Cynthia says. “I don't think she's very happy with you.”

No hint that she overheard something she shouldn't. I shrug. “I wasn't very happy with her either.”

Once the plates are dished and my hunger abated somewhat, I say to Katherine, “These clothes will be more useful than you know. Apparently when a council member gets married, they hold a ball. It will give me the perfect chance to show everyone your dresses.”

Katherine eyes widen. “When's it taking place?”

“You'll get paid from all those warlocks who attend and don't want their possessions out done.” Cynthia laughs. “It's the day before the wedding. I can't wait.”

“A ball before the wedding?” Katherine says.

I wish the wedding didn't have to be associated with it. Every time it's brought up, my insides mush together. The ball though, it's coming together better than I hoped. “I'm trying to get help planning everything. Cynthia has many ideas. Hopefully, my other sister Bethany, will be able to help. She's always had a knack for helping mother plan, though she hasn't attended any as of yet. And instead of just helping put everything together, maybe Waverly can give us an Envadi flare.”

“I don't know how things differ, but I'd be willing to tell you what things are like in Envado,” Waverly says.

“We've already discussed how I can't pay,” I say, hoping I'm not being too forward. That she really does want people to see me wearing her things, “but maybe you could make my ball gown? I might be able to get you some new orders from it.”

“Sounds good, if we can convince the other guests to buy something. And for your dress, it'd be a thrill to do. I'll get started on ideas right away.” Katherine stands. “I must go anyway. I'll take these dresses and get them to you as soon as they're finished.”

“You're already doing so much. Thank you, and don't rush. I'll manage with what I have,” I say.