Page 22 of Ghosts and Ginger Tea

Inside ‌the room, the ceilings were tall and spacious. A cool tropical breeze wafted from the many open windows, and a group of women sat in a circle, their voices and laughter tinkling like bells. They each held something in their hands. What was it?

It appeared they were… quilting? I had once been told that women of wealth and nobility spent their time chatting and gossiping while they sewed Hawaiian quilts, like the ones Kiki made. But I had never picked up the skill.

Noting the gaudy and revealing dresses of the women, I stood at the door, my hands clasped together. I was modest, even when wearing a corset, but I couldn’t help feeling vulnerable, embarrassed, and anxious. I was not like these women. What was I doing here?

The room fell silent as one of the young women, someone who had to be around my age, caught sight of me and motioned for me to sit next to her.

“It’s Keanu’s new wife,” someone whispered, loud enough for me to hear. “She’s from the lower class.” A few women frowned at me, completely unapproving of my being there.

Trust me, I thought. I don’t want to be here either.

“I’m Malia,” said the girl who motioned to the seat next to her. “Princess Malia.” She was gorgeous, with thick black locks and a face that would make even the gods envious. Why didn’t Keanu marry her?

Because he is stuck with me.

“We’re so glad you could join us,” she said.

I swallowed hard and put my hands in my lap, not knowing what to do with them.

“Here,” said Malia, handing me one of the quilting samplers.

“Lady Oliana, before you begin…” Sitting on the other side of me was another young woman. She had an exotic look, and I remembered her from the reception after Keanu and I were married. "Don't forget to thank Princess Malia properly,” she said.

“Oh, thank you.” How could I forget my manners? “Thank you Malia,” I said.

“Princess Malia,” the other girl corrected. “And standing. She is a princess.”

“Oh.” I quickly stood. “Thank you, Princess Malia.”

“Oh dear. Not while everyone else is seated.”

I sat again, realizing just what the girl was doing. Others in the room snickered or rolled their eyes.

“Pua,” Malia gave the girl a look.

Pua looked like a nobility. Her wavy hair fell down her back in tresses, longer than a waterfall, and her dress fit her body tightly, accentuating her curves. Her eyebrows arched, as if she knew the intimidating effect she had on those around her, and she smiled, though her eyes shot invisible streams of lava my way.

Malia cleared her throat and everyone pretended to go back to their work. I looked at the small quilt in my hand. It was most likely a pillowcase, as it was a smaller square shape. The red fabric was as vibrant as a lehua blossom and it had a striking contrast against the white behind it.

I pulled out the needle and tried to figure out where the last person–most likely Malia–had stopped. If I knew where she ended her stitch, maybe I could start from there.

"Lady Oliana... you're holding it upside down." Pua spoke again.

I looked at the sampler and flipped it. Was there a right side up? The pattern was symmetrical on every side, wasn’t it?

I rotated it.

“No, not that way.” Pua smiled pleasantly. It seemed a few others hid their smiles. “Don’t worry,” she said. “No one expects you to know.”

Flames raged inside of me. She pretended to sound compassionate, when she was really doing the complete opposite.

I poked at the project. “That’s not a quilting stitch.” Why was she still watching me? More quiet laughs filled the room.

Malia interrupted. “Lady Kanahele, what were you saying about the new dresses in your kingdom?”

Lady Kanahele, sitting across the room, rolled her eyes, knowing that Malia was pulling the attention away from me. But she answered anyway. Slowly, the women in the room turned to Lady Kanahele, and after a few moments, Malia nudged me.

“You can at least pretend,” she whispered. I realized I sat there, frozen, staring at the sampler in my hand.