Thread of Darkness

Ch. 2: do you love him?

Camille stripped off her muddied dress.

Her numb fingers fumbled with the stays. A breeze drifted through the open window, raising gooseflesh on her skin. Outside, a horn blared across the open field. She could hear the rattle of carriage wheels and the clop-clop of hooves; a flurry of carriages was arriving, and she didn't need to look out the window to know who it was.

Eris.

Camille cursed under her breath, shoving the muddied garment under her bed. Damn. She'd need to clean it herself later. None of the servants could be trusted — all of them were in Brigid's employ.

Not, Camille reflected, twisting her hair up into a knot, that most of the servants liked her all that much, anyway; she'd overheard a kitchen maid saying as much last week.

"A pauper queen," the girl had said, shaking her head. "Can you imagine it? We'll be the embarrassment of Mondia."

A servant dusting the curtains had made a derisive noise. "Bad enough when she was the Queen's ward. But a Queen herself? And having to curtsy to her?" The woman shook her head. "Bloody social climber, that one."

Camille yanked open her wardrobe, shoving gowns aside. Cornflower blue, pale purple, moonstone white; all etched with delicate flowers, all with modest necklines. She had the sudden urge to seize a knife and carve them all up. Slash the pretty flowers until they were nothing more than yarn.

There was a knock on the door.

"Cami?" a voice called. "Are you in there?"

Penny.

Camille cursed, snatching a dress at random. If it had been anybody else — literally anybody else — she would have hidden in her wardrobe. No questions asked. But Penny could sense emotions; the question had been for polite show.

"Just a moment!" Camille called.

Camille looked down at the gown — burnt yellow, frilly, and utterly ghastly — and sighed.

Oh, to hell with it.

She wriggled into her slip. There was a thump as Penny leaned against the door. Camille could picture her sister's face: freckled, amused, slightly exasperated...

"Eris is here," Penny said.

Her frozen fingers fumbled with the sleeves. "I know."

Penny's voice turned suspicious. "What in Lucia's name are you doing in there?"

"Just..." Camille glanced at her bookshelf. "Reading."

"You're reading?" Penny's voice was muffled through the door. "Now?"

Camille fumbled with her corset. "I'm at a good part. Very suspenseful," she added, in the hope that Penny would attribute her anxiety to that, and not to the fact that she was dripping muddy water all over a three-hundred-year-old carpet.

Penny sighed. "We really don't have time for this."

"Just let me finish my chapter."

"You know," Penny said, "I really don't enjoy being the responsible one." Another thump. "That's your role."

Camille doubled over, yanking desperately at her stays. "I have one more page."

"Alright," Penny said, "I'm coming in."

Panic shot through her. "Penny, wait!"

The door burst open.

Penny stood in the threshold. She was dressed in a simple white day dress, her auburn hair tumbling over her shoulders. She looked regal. Elegant. Camille, on the other hand, was bent over double, trying desperately to kick her muddied garment further under the bed.