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Despite the fact she was an odd duck, I liked her.
Decided, I leaned closer to tell her, “My mother can’t really cook. She tries, but it’s bad.”
“Oh!” Caroline grinned at both of us. “My mother wouldn’t even know where the kitchen is in our house. We have cooks for that.”
Hannah grinned at Caroline. “You know it would be so easy to not like you, if you weren’t so nice.”
Jayne choked on her water, and I gawked at Hannah.
Caroline only shrugged. “I know. Trust me, I do, but I am nice. I don’t judge others for having less, and if people want to judge me for being me, I can’t do anything about that, either. Regardless, we’re all going to be friends.” She shot a look at the girls next to her. “I could really use some new ones.”
Again, I fought to keep my lips from twitching into a grin. This is delightfully more amusing than I thought it would be.
After the meal, staff showed Jayne and me to the room my parents paid for us to share, up on the fifth floor. Our bags waited in the room for us, not that they contained very much. Caroline and Hannah were somewhere else in the building. They each got solo rooms, but even sharing a room with Jayne seemed better than the dorms I spotted when we’d climbed the stairs to our rooms. They looked like ten to a room of tiny bunk beds.
We were lucky. Others might have more stuff than us, but Jayne and I never suffered.
“This is so nice,” Jayne said as she grinned at me. “The beds are big.”
Much larger than what we had at home, and they looked so soft and comfortable, I wanted to flop on mine. Two big wardrobes stood sentry near them, and a large window overlooked the back courtyard, which I hadn’t seen yet. I stared outside, gasping in surprise when I realized what I watched—Warriors outside training. I scanned the scene, finding them overall impressive. Swordplay dominated the scene below, but some threw axes. Amazingly, one group dragged a person with a rope.
How many were there? Certainly more of them than us. Then again, not all of them would be participating in the ritual. Most of them wouldn’t, and some already had wives.
I searched until I saw the ones who’d saved us so many years ago. They still wore green, and sure enough, their wife, also draped in the color, watched them from a distance away. She didn’t smile and looked awfully alone as she watched them from her spot in the pasture.
Is she always alone?
Jayne put her arm around my waist and squeezed me tightly. “I want us both to go home. I don’t know what to do here. Did you see all the food they threw out? And the women here? The ones from Hawkseye? Their hands are perfect. No scars. No cuts. No indication they’ve ever done anything with them besides sit with them in their laps.”
I laughed. She was absolutely right, but I kissed her hair. “None are as beautiful as you, not even with their lovely fingers.”
“Oh. stop. You’re prettier than me, even if you have so much of Mama in you, sometimes you can pretend you don’t care.”
I gave into temptation and threw myself on the bed, finding the fabric luxurious and the bed like a cloud. “Of course I care. I’ve never been as serene or good like Mama. I think about it quite often, and then I hate myself a little bit for it.”
“Sloane,” Jayne began as she lay down next to me. “It’s not like you sacrificed your character in the quest to become more beautiful. You didn’t ask for your looks; they were given to you. Enjoy them. If they make you happy, just remember they don’t matter as much as being good to others.”
I took her hand. “Well, you’ll remind me, if I ever forget. It’s not like I intend to stay here to raise girls to be gorgeous. We both know what will likely happen in a few days.”
“Maybe not. You haven’t had one vision since we left home. I know she said it happens, but why?”
It was weird for sure. I wished I had an answer.
A knock sounded, and Jayne rose to go answer it while I sat up and tried to be presentable. Our travel clothes were not fashionable. We’d both worn soft brown jackets with gray simple dresses beneath them and brown boots that covered tights to keep us warm. Sensible travel clothes, my mama had called them.
The women on the other side of the door stared at us like we just crawled out of some pit and brought the dregs of hell back with us.
After their initial stare down, they both lifted their heads and smiled. The first one, whose red hair sat atop her head like a crown, spoke first. “Hello, ladies. We are Smythe and Wells, your fashion consultants. That was rude of us. We spend too much time here in Hawkseye, so we frequently forget our fashions do not make it into the country. You’re both lovely, and this should be easy. Like starting with a clean slate. Come with us.”
Her voice sounded low and scratchy for a woman, but she indicated we should follow her. I would love to tell her where to shove her opinions. We were perfectly well-fitted for home and screw what anyone here thought. It was a ritual. I could probably do it in my pajamas if I wanted to.
But I didn’t say that because Jayne smiled at them in her serene way, and so with her, I exited our lovely room to go see what it was that I was supposed to be wearing rather than what I was most comfortable in.
“Normally I would cut your hair,” Smythe whispered to me. “It’s fashionable for young women to have it shorter these days, but yours is lovely. Long.”
Smythe focused on me while Wells disappeared with Jayne.
The stylist ran her hands through the heavy length, clucking her tongue in thought. So far, after being carefully measured, I had survived trying on more than fifty dresses, and she intended to figure out hair and makeup next.
