The ifs muddle in my mind, perhaps because of where I am.
But I can’t change the past, and no matter whether I’m happy or not, I’m here.
The box is open, and I can’t pretend like I don’t know all of this exists now.
A new world.
With actual magic.
And I’m not going insane.
Because I have magic.
I lie on the bed and stare at the cup with the brooch propped up next to it. They’re familiar, but the backdrop now is so different. Luscious and expensive. Another thing to get used to. My collection of things doesn’t look right against that backdrop, but it is stillmycollection.
“Are you ready?” Kyra’s voice singsongs into the room.
“Um. Sort of.” I roll over and stand, brush down my shirt and tuck it back into my linen trousers.
She takes a step inside the room and her face scrunches. “You are not ready. Have you even changed?”
“No. It’s dinner. Besides, I have two more shirts like this one, and that’s about it. It won’t make a difference which one I wear.” She’s not going to make me feel bad about what I can and can’t wear to dinner.
“You’re wrong. This is the full Chamber you’re dining with. And I saw the impression you made earlier. Wait here.” She turns and leaves before I have a chance to argue.
I shake my head and wait for her.
There’s a small mirror in the washroom, so I go and see what all the fuss is about.
Sure, my hair’s a little straggly, the wavy curls knotting and messy rather than defined, but that’s normal. It doesn’t stop my fingers from trying to comb through the tangles and pull them back into the small leather tie I use to keep most of it under control. It still escapes and does whatever it wants. I don’t know why I bother sometimes.
My shirt is clean, my trousers a little creased, but perfectly good enough. And it isn’t like I have a wardrobe of options to choose from.
“Here.”
I pop my head back out and see Kyra holding up a long, soft-looking garment—a dress. I’ve never owned a dress. At least, not like this one.
When I was younger, Lyle dressed me in pinafore-style dresses, but I chose linen trousers over those as soon as I could.
“I can’t wear that. It’s too…” I flap my hands at the dress.
“Nonsense. Come on.” She nods at me and thrusts the dress towards me, expectantly covering her face as if I’m to change right there. And just to spite her, I do. I pull the shirt over my head and untie the trousers. “Ever!”
“What’s wrong? Do Kirrians look different than this under their clothes?”
“No, although we do have more modesty.”
I forgo taking the small cami top off and reach out to her for the dress. I step into the washroom and undress to my underwear before pulling the silky material over my head. It feels cool against my skin and clings to my curves as it slides over my chest and hips, dropping almost to the floor. My leather lace-up boots will not match this outfit.
“Perfect.” She beams as I creep out of the room. It feels odd to have so little on. The string straps make my shoulders feel bare in contrast, and the lacy detail of the dress only just covers my breasts.
It certainly isn’t perfect. “I need something… here.” I grab a clean cotton shirt, thread my arms through, and tie the two sides together in front of me.
Kyra looks appalled, but I at least feel a little less on display and more suitably dressed for dinner. “I won’t convince you to take that off?” she checks.
“Nope. It’s called a compromise,” I say as I turn up my sleeves. The shirt acts like a jacket of sorts. “I will ask for some more suitable shoes. I can only imagine your face if I keep on myboots.” I smile at her, and she scurries off as though in a race without another word.
She’s trying to help me and seems to be going far beyond just making me feel settled. Having Kyra as a potential friend would be nice. New. Especially given it is only her and her brother who seem friendly so far.
