Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1004(@200wpm)___ 803(@250wpm)___ 669(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1004(@200wpm)___ 803(@250wpm)___ 669(@300wpm)
At this point, the sun outside is beginning to set and I’ve pretty much given up on the idea of learning secret things about Tyse from snooping. Then a knock at the door startles me.
I just stare at it for a moment, wondering who it could be.
Maybe… his friend Anneeta?
But also, maybe that creepy guy down the hall who was caught looking at me and got a very hard shove for his troubles?
“Clara?”
I walk to the door, open it, and find Prisha staring back at me. “Father says it’s quitting time. He’s sorry he didn’t come back two hours ago, like he promised. We got swamped. Do you have dirty linens for me?”
“Oh. Yes, I do.” I put them all in a pile on the floor when I stripped the bed, so I load them back onto the bucket contraption and take it back to Prisha. She reaches for it and expertly balances it across her shoulders like she’s been doing this sort of thing her whole life. “Did I take too long, Prisha?”
Prisha cocks a perfectly arched eyebrow at me. “Take too long?” She’s not wearing a lot of make-up, but she is wearing some. And it is very clear that she does not live in this tower. Even if Rodge didn’t inform me of that fact, I could tell. Her dress is simple, but a very fine, high-quality linen in a pale yellow that looks very attractive against her dark skin. It’s a straight dress with long bell sleeves and ends just above the knee. Every seam is trimmed in light blue silk ribbons.
It’s not fancy, but it’s also very far from plain and it reminds me of something I might’ve worn to a luncheon with the Canal District ladies in my past life.
Prisha is also wearing a lot of jewelry. Gold bracelets, earrings, and a necklace. I would be a little hesitant to wear all that treasure on my person in a place like the tower, but I guess if you’re Rodge’s daughter, people know better than to mess with you.
Prisha might work in a down-city tower, but she is up-city all the way.
“Yeah,” I say. “The day is over and I barely just got done. I was too slow, wasn’t I?”
Prisha chuckles. “Dear Clara, no one expects you to work. Tyse has asked my father to watch you. Having you work is just how he fulfills that request. It’s the same for me.” She shrugs up one shoulder, like she doesn’t mind.
“But you are very efficient. I saw you this morning.”
“Because what else do I have to do? If I have to come to work with my father every day, I might as well be nice to people and do things expeditiously. Oh! Before I forget. Here.”
This is when I notice that there is a small package wrapped in brown paper tucked under her arm. She thrusts the package at me. “And this too.” Then she reaches into a pocket and withdraws a coin, holding it out for me on her palm. “Don’t spend it all in one place.”
I take the coin, then point to the package. “But… what is this?”
“A gift from Father. He likes you and he’s very generous to people he likes. See you tomorrow!” She waves, then turns, walking back towards the stairs.
“Thank you!” I call. “See you tomorrow!” I close the door then sit down on the chair and place the package and coin on the footrest. One coin. Is this what I can expect from a day’s work? I’m not sure, but it doesn’t matter because it belongs to Tyse, anyway. I owe him for the clothes I’m currently wearing. Not to mention the dinner last night and whatever else he’s keeping a tab of.
The package is medium-sized and squishy, so I’m prepared for there to be clothes inside before I open it, but I am not prepared for the quality of garment I remove from the packaging.
It’s a dress, nearly identical to the one Prisha was wearing, but dyed the absolute lightest shade of desert green and trimmed in silk ribbons the color of sand.
My smile is big when I lean back in the chair, holding the dress to my chest, because this dress makes me both satisfied and happy in a way I don’t really have an explanation for.
I have been given many gifts over the last decade. Too many dresses to count. But all the gifts that came from being a Spark Maiden felt like… well, I hate to say bribes, but that is how they felt. ‘Insincere’ might be a better way to describe it. Meant to kindle my favor in some future transaction. In other words, they were all tied to an expectation.
None of those gifts or dresses were special to me personally and all of them were taken for granted.