Page 22 of Beneath the Haunting Sea
She liked him a little better after all that swearing. “Who areyou?”
He shrugged. “I’m Wen.”
That was not exactly enlightening.
“But you really can’tstay. You have to leave. Tonight, maybe. Tomorrow at the latest. It’s not safe, do you understand?”
No. No, shedidn’tunderstand. She wanted to strangle him with his own cravat. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through to get here? Of course you don’t. How could you? In the last six months I was arrested, shoved onto a boat, and watched my motherdie.I just got here and I amnotleaving,damn you!”
His eyebrows lifted nearly to the top of his head and he took an involuntary step backward. “I’m so sor—” he began.
But then Ahned stepped up beside her and offered her his arm. “Ah,” he said, his glance flicking between her and Wen, “I see you two have … met. Miss Dahl-Saida, your room is ready. So sorry for the delay.”
Talia took his arm and allowed him to lead her down the hall,casting a baffled look at Wen over her shoulder as she went.
Chapter Ten
TALIA ALMOST DISSOLVED INTO GRATEFUL TEARS WHENAhned deposited her in her room—a bath was waiting there, steaming nicely.
The room itself was small and drab and colorless, a fire licking red behind the grate, a bed in one corner, and an old wooden wardrobe and dressing table opposite. Its best feature was the window looking north over the sea. Talia stared through it the whole timeshe was bathing, though there was little to see beyond the impenetrable rain running down the glass.
She had just climbed out of the bath and was toweling herself dry, her skin tingling with warmth and the delicious sensation of cleanliness, when there came a knock at her door. It opened a crack, and a woman in her late thirties peeked in, yellow curls spilling out from under her white maid’scap. “Beg pardon, Miss, but we’ve come to help you dress. Are you finished?”
Talia nodded, tugging the towel self-consciously around her, and the maid slipped into the room. A second maid who looked to be about Talia’s age followed her, a gown draped over one arm. She had dark hair and wide eyes and was fidgeting nervously.
“I’m Lyna,” said the first maid, “and this is Ro. We were told you broughtnothing with you from Enduena. No gowns or shoes or undergarments or anything?”
The questions rankled. Talia didn’t care to explain that she was completely penniless—not even a hairpin to her name, now. She thought of her mother, braiding her hair into a coronet down in the hold of the ship, and shook her head. “Nothing.” Lyna tutted and Ro, staring at Talia, fiddled with the fabric of the gownshe’d brought. It was beautiful, a pale green silk with silver roses embroidered around the neckline and ribbons shimmering violet and dusky pink under the bodice.
“We’ve brought this for today,” Lyna said, gesturing to the gown. “Dairon is gathering the rest. We’ll bring them this evening.”
“The rest?” Talia echoed. “Who’s Dairon?”
“His Grace’s housekeeper.” Talia assumed Lyna was talkingabout the middle-aged woman who had first opened the front door. “Right now, we have to make you presentable. The Baron will be downstairs in half an hour.”
Talia grimaced. She didn’t want to meet the dusty old Baron.
Ro laid the gown on the bed, and Lyna pulled Talia’s towel away, slipping her into a chemise that smelled strongly of lavender soap. The fabric was coarser than Talia had beenused to in Enduena, but it was clean, and made her feel as exquisite as if she was dressed in hand-spun Itish silk.
Ro pulled something over her head and began tugging at the laces. Talia writhed out of her grasp, face hot. “I do not require a corset!”
The maid looked at her in confusion. Lyna frowned. “It will give you the proper shape for the gown, Miss. Are they not the fashion in Enduena?”
Talia’s thundering pulse dulled a little. Was that all it was, here? A fashion? She reallyhadcome to the end of civilization. Only the prostitutes wore corsets at home. “No,” she said. “No, they’re not.”
Ro’s eyes grew even wider and Lyna shook her head, like she thoughtTaliawas the uncultured one. “Well, here they’re required to make you look the proper lady,” Ro said. “Now turn around.”
Talia obeyed, wondering how the same garment could be the height of elegant society in one country and the lowest of base company in another. Her mother would have known how to talk her way out of it. She chewed on her lip as Ro cinched the corset tight. The boning dug sharply into her hips and across the top of her ribs.
The gown came next, falling in a cloud of silk and ribbons to Talia’s ankles,and then she sat down on a stool while Lyna and Ro arranged her hair. They worked quickly, braiding and twisting and pulling and pinning, until the whole dark mass was swept up on top of Talia’s head.
Last of all, Lyna set out a tray of little cosmetic jars on the dressing table. She brushed rouge on Talia’s cheeks and indigo powder on her eyelids. She drew bold black lines around her eyes, andstained her lips a deep red. Talia blinked at herself in the mirror, and didn’t recognize the person staring back.
Lyna nodded in satisfaction. “You’re ready, Miss. Ahned will see you downstairs. Wendarien and the Baron are waiting.”
“Wendarien …?” Talia began, wondering if she meant the rude young man from the music room.
But then the door opened and Ahned looked in.
