RUBY

ONE

Ruby’s stomach squirmed with excitement as she followed her aunt out of the temple. With Vara’s warnings about the e’Silean laws still fresh in her mind, Ruby reminded herself to guard her tongue and her temper—it had often gotten her into trouble in Louvel. She was eager to see more of e’Silea, but she wanted to do that without getting her aunt into trouble.

Vara reached for her hand as they stepped into the street. Clasping it at once, Ruby felt a couple gentle squeezes. The space inside her heart that had been empty since her mother’s death began to fill in with Vara’s love. The woman tried repeatedly to reassure her that she and Isla were welcome with her, in her home, in her life. She told them she loved them and wanted them with her. It was enough for Ruby to build her hopes on, even if Isla still doubted.

Isla followed a couple paces behind them, composed as usual. No one but Ruby knew Isla well enough to see how uncomfortable she was. The slight hitch to her shoulders meant she was uneasy—ready to run at the slightest danger. The firm set to her chin meant she was ready to argue. Ruby wished her sister would relax long enough to realize they were finally somewhere safe.

They were stopped before they exited the neighborhood. A robust woman in a cherry-red sheer dress called to Vara and crossed the street with a man on her heels.

“Hello, Phoebe!” Vara greeted warmly. She hugged the woman and then leaned sideways to smile at her slave. “Good morning, Laius.” When she leaned back to meet the woman’s bright green eyes, she asked, “How is he?”

The woman reached back and patted the young man’s arm. “He’s adjusting well to my temple. He’s a good lad.”

Ruby studied the man as he came up beside his mistress. He was much younger than she originally thought—only a little older than Isla. He had brown curly hair, skin a deeper brown than his light-brown eyes, and stood a full head taller than his mistress. Ruby’s face flushed and she looked away. She might never get used to half-dressed men walking in the streets. His only clothing was a pair of dark green trousers that did not go all the way to his knees.

“Yes,” Vara agreed with a smile. “He’s always been a good one.”

Behind Ruby, Isla sniffed. It was such a light sound, that Ruby hoped the others wouldn’t hear, but Phoebe glanced her way, eyes narrowing briefly as if trying to figure out if she misheard. Then, she returned her attention to Vara, her smile returning to its former brightness.

“I’m very happy with his education and training,” Phoebe said, stroking the young man’s arm again. “And, of course, he’s beautiful—as your bloodline always seems to produce.”

Ruby started and looked more intently into the man’s face, searching for traces of Vara in him. There was something about his eyes that reminded her of Vara. The color was similar, and the shape.

“Is he your son?” Ruby asked before she could stop herself.

Vara gave the slightest wince, which showed Ruby she messed up. Flushing again, she whispered, “Sorry.” Vara only stroked a hand down her head while sighing at Phoebe.

“You will have to forgive my newest wards. They are new to e’Silea and are still adjusting to our culture and values. As soon as I get them well-dressed, I will send them to Classes and help them become educated to our ways.” She squeezed Ruby’s shoulder and looked down at her. “No, Ruby. I did not give birth to Laius. But my daughter did, so he is from my line.”

“He’s your grandson,” Isla toned in coolly.

Vara shot a quelling look over her shoulder at Isla. Then, apologetically to Phoebe, she explained, “They don’t understand e’Silean terms of families yet.”

Phoebe tossed a hand and laughingly replied, “They are little girls, Vara. They deserve to ask questions and be silly.” She squatted slightly to meet Isla’s eyes. “We mark our slaves to show their bloodlines. Did you know that?”

Ruby felt a wave of concern as Isla’s face contorted with horror. Internally, she begged Isla to keep her revulsion to herself. As her mouth fell open—undoubtedly to demand more information about ‘marking’—Vara stepped up to her. Her hand snaked around Isla’s shoulders and then around to cover her mouth.

“I’ll explain it all in detail when I get the chance,” Vara told Phoebe, politely but firmly recalling her attention to herself. “I am glad Laius is doing so well with you. We knew he’d be a great fit for your temple.” With her hand still across Isla’s mouth, she smiled and asked, “How’s business?”

Ruby fell back beside her sister and grasped her hand. Isla squeezed her hand hard. Instead of focusing on the conversation of the adults, Ruby tried to soothe Isla soundlessly with affectionate squeezes of her hand and arm. Isla did not look aside. Her eyes had locked onto Laius and would not move away. Ruby, too, looked at the young man and found him studying Isla with a slight smile on his face. He gave her a wink and, turning, Ruby saw her sister blush under Vara’s hand and finally pull her gaze away, too.

TWO

When Phoebe and her slave walked away, Vara removed her hand and glowered down at Isla. “You will keep your comments to yourself until we are safely back in the temple, Isla of Vara.”

Even though her aunt’s fury was turned on someone else, Ruby still felt the threat of her words. With wide eyes, she watched her sister. Isla glared up at their aunt for a moment only, then she dropped her eyes and murmured, “Yes, Aunt Vara.”

Vara lowered her voice while softening it. “We do not have ‘sons’ or ‘grandsons’ in e’Silea. And while we do use the term ‘daughter,’ we rarely refer to our ‘granddaughters.’ We will say, ‘She is in my bloodline.’”

Ruby asked, “But couldn’t that mean anyone? A daughter, or granddaughter, or even niece or sister?”

Vara stroked her face. “Technically, yes. But in e’Silea, the custom is to refer to your natural born daughters as ‘daughters,’ and their children as ‘bloodline.’” She stroked Isla’s face, too, even though the girl’s face was stony enough to discourage affection. “My sister’s children, I would refer to as ‘my kin,’ except for when they live under my name, in which case they become ‘my wards.’ Like you two.”

Ruby thought she understood, even though it was more general terminology than she was used to. “Do your granddaughters call you their grandmother?”

She shook her head. “They might, although it’s not a common term in e’Silea. They usually call me by name: Vara of Capitol.”

Isla’s tone was guarded, although polite, when she asked, “Even if they want to denote a relationship with you?”

“In that case, they might say ‘my mother’s mother’ or ‘Head of my family,’ if appropriate.” She took their hands in each of hers and continued walking up the street. “This is not to say that all families in e’Silea are the same. Some—especially those with more access to Mainland ways, like sailors and hunters—might use the term ‘grandmother.’ But you should also know that some sanctuaries refer to the Goddess as the Grand Mother, so it might be confusing.”

Ruby was again enveloped with wonder at the mention of a Goddess. She was more cautious now than she had been before—when she asked if her mother was waiting for her in the Temple of the Goddess—but she was too curious not to ask more questions.

“What can you tell me about the Goddess?”

Vara smiled down at her and then leaned over and kissed her on top of the head. “What do you want to know, my sweet?”

Ruby’s imagination was caught by a Goddess who did not demand worship. After schoolmasters striking her for not being humble enough, and church pastors declaring her a sinner all her life, Ruby was eager to hear about a religion that did not shame her for being who she was.

“I’m just wondering about her. What sins does the Goddess punish?”

Sin was a well-covered topic in schools in Louvel. Lying, cheating, and disobedience were all sins, of course, but the list went on for Ruby. She had been punished for many more sins, including shouting, cursing, fighting, talking back to schoolmasters, spitting—even though the boys were doing it without incurring penalty—laughing too loudly, being unladylike, and refusing to smile when prompted.

Giving the slightest chuckle, Vara replied, “I’m no priestess, child, but I think I can safely say that the Goddess has no interest in punishments. The keepers of temples are the makers of laws in e’Silea. I imagine the Goddess’ realms to be the same. She punishes her own wards and slaves as needed, I’m sure, like every good temple keeper. Otherwise, I expect she leaves the punishing up to the temple keeper for every . . . sinner.” She grinned down at Ruby and asked, “Is that the correct term? Sinner?”

Ruby gave a vigorous nod. “I was called a sinner a lot.”

Isla sighed, “That’s because you could never hold your tongue when necessary.”

Ruby glowered at her sister. “It’s because I dared ask questions when everyone else just accepted the unfairness of everything.”

Vara led them across a larger street. She asked, “What kind of unfairness did you see?”

Behind their aunt’s back, Isla glared at Ruby and shook her head. Ruby knew she wanted her to keep quiet. Everyone always wanted her to close her mouth and keep quiet. Except Vara. Vara asked her questions, and seemed to care about the answers. Ruby glared back at her sister for once again trying to silence her.

“A lot of things! One time I was punished in school for slapping a boy even though he hit my friend Camila first.”

Vara’s face clouded. “A boy hit someone?”

Ruby gave a vigorous nod. “Yes. He slapped her bottom and grabbed it, so I slapped his face.”

“I should think so,” Vara murmured.

Ruby’s heart swelled. Back when it happened, her mother had scolded her for not reporting the incident to the schoolmaster instead of taking matters into her own hands.

“I’m the only one who got into trouble,” Ruby insisted. “When the schoolmaster demanded to know why I hit Timos, I told him, ‘He slapped Camila’s bottom.’ Everyone laughed, and Timos denied it.”

Vara snorted. “Of course he did. What about Camila? Didn’t she come forward about his misconduct?”

A fire burned in Ruby’s belly—one that she had been ignoring for the years since the incident. It roared into fresh life as she told her aunt, “No. When the schoolmaster questioned her, she said it was an accident, even though I saw it and I knew he did it on purpose.”

“She didn’t want to be shamed for the incident, Ruby!” Isla hissed at her in frustration. “Her name would have been associated with indecency if she had told the truth. Everyone would have wondered why he touched her in that way, and would have begun commenting on her character. They would have blamed her for it. She did not have a choice but to deny it.”

Vara let go of their hands and turned completely to look down at Isla. Ruby expected to see anger on her face, but there was only concern and disbelief. “If Camila had told the truth, she would have been blamed for it? Even if she did not encourage the boy’s attentions?”

Wincing, Isla whispered, “I mean, they might not have blamed her out loud, but there would have been talk. In fact, there was talk, even though she denied it. For the rest of the year, people talked about how Camila must have been flirting with Timos and tempting him to make him behave in an uncouth way.”

Ruby watched the concern on Vara’s face become disgust. “He mistreated her, and her reputation was effected?”

Isla’s eyes were large—a sky without clouds—when she whispered, “It was better for a girl’s reputation not to admit to that kind of mistreatment from the boys.”

When Vara’s hand moved, Ruby winced in fear that she would strike Isla, but she only caressed her face. In horror, she whispered, “Oh my babies! That is not how things work in e’Silea. And certainly not in my temple. If anyone mistreats you in that way, your reputation will never be ruined by admitting it. Do you understand me?”

Ruby nodded, although her aunt was not looking at her. She only had eyes for Isla. The older girl’s eyes filled with tears as she whispered, “Yes, ma’am.”

Vara embraced her, pulling Isla against her shoulder. She murmured, “How many abuses have you endured in the silence?” but did not seem to be expecting an answer. After a moment, she dragged Ruby into the embrace as well. Clutching both of them to her chest, she promised, “No one is ever permitted to harm you again.”

THREE

When Vara released them from her embrace, Isla’s lashes glistened with tears. In wonder, Ruby watched her sister step back and draw a deep breath. She smoothed her dress with her hands, although it was her face that wiped clean. The wrinkles of sadness and pain cleared away as easily as the wrinkles of her dress. She walked beside their aunt with a blank expression.

Vara grasped Ruby’s hand to keep her moving up the street. They blended back into the moving crowd. It was a crowd, Ruby realized with interest. Many women, but some men too, walked through the streets. They called out, laughed, stopped to chat with one another, and in general seemed very happy. Ruby made eye contact with a couple other girls her age. One of them waved eagerly. It was something Ruby would have done back in Louvel that would make her mother scold her not to make a spectacle of herself. Here, though, no one scolded the girl for waving. Ruby waved back. It caught Vara’s attention, and she looked at the girl, then called to her, “Come over here, child!”

Ruby would have been petrified if she had been the one to receive that authoritative summons, but the other girl just dashed across the street with a grin.

“Hello,” she greeted Ruby, then she grinned up at Vara and said, “Yes, ma’am?”

Vara touched the girl’s face gently and asked, “What’s your name?”

Ruby was surprised. She had assumed by the familiarity of their tones and touch that they knew each other or were maybe even related.

“Taryn of Onella,” the girl announced proudly. Her reddish hair was almost as short as a boy’s, but Ruby liked it cut sharply at her chin as it was. She wore a crown of flowers with ribbons down her back that made up for the lack of length in her hair. Although, Ruby realized with a glance around the streets, hair length did not seem to be a standard of beauty for girls here, as it was in Louvel.

“That’s what I thought,” Vara replied with a smile. “How is Onella? I heard she was nearing the end of her pregnancy.”

Taryn gave a nod. “She delivered yesterday.”

“All well?”

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

The red-haired girl grimaced. “All healthy, if that’s what you mean. That baby has the lungs of a canyon wind.” She grinned and rolled her eyes. “I’ve never been so excited to go to Classes in my life!”

Vara chuckled warmly, even though Ruby thought the girl wasn’t being very compassionate about the birth of a new baby.

“Tell Onella I wish her a speedy recovery,” Vara said, then added, “Vara of Capitol.”

Giggling again, the girl said, “I know who you are.”

Vara pinched her chin. “Cheeky,” she said in a tone that might have been a warning if not for the smile on her face.

The girl shrugged dramatically. “I do what I can.” She looked aside at Ruby and asked, “Who are you?”

Ruby glanced up at her aunt, expecting her to handle the introduction. But Vara only smiled down at her. Coloring slightly, Ruby looked at the other girl’s sandals and whispered, “I’m Ruby of Vara.”

The amused answer, “Whoa!” made Ruby jerk her head up to study the girl. Her brown eyes were wide. “You’re the new girl from Mainland, aren’t you?”

Swallowing, Ruby gave a nod. Vara spoke up then, still with a smile although there seemed to be some rebuke in her tone, “She is from e’Silea now, Taryn of Onella.”

Taryn lifted both hands as if to ward off a scolding. “I know. But still…” she looked back at Ruby with wide eyes. “You must have so many adventures to talk about.”

Vara made a slight sound of disapproval. “I doubt Onella would approve of you talking about Mainland adventures.”

Taryn gave an innocent shrug. “I think she would encourage my curiosity and inquisitiveness.”

Vara snorted—apparently amused. Ruby could not understand the emotional subtext of this conversation. She felt lost. “I’m sure your curiosity is appreciated in Classes, but I’m willing to bet it’s gotten you into trouble everywhere else.”

Grinning and backing away, Taryn pretended offense, “What? Me? I am my mother’s angel, I’ll have you know.”

“Which is why you are rushing off to eagerly attend Classes, I’m sure,” Vara replied with a chuckle.

Putting both hands on her heart, the girl said, “Of course! I’m not avoiding the squalling child at all.” Then, with a laugh, she turned and bounded away down the street.

Chuckling, Vara watched her go. Then, she swept Isla and Ruby ahead of her once more and said, “Let’s go. We’ll be late to the sewist at this rate.”

FOUR

They walked down a market street with stalls on either side full of wares on display. If not for Vara’s hand twined around hers, Ruby would certainly have lagged behind looking at everything in every stall. She saw fruits and vegetables, cloth, spices, and many items she could not name or categorize. One stall was selling musical flutes. Another seemed to be selling dolls, but these were not the cloth dolls Ruby had seen as a small girl. These dolls had intricately painted faces, luxurious clothes, and strange poses. Ruby was so eager to see them that she stepped nearer, only to be pulled back by her aunt.

“Later,” the woman promised her with a smile. “I will show you all the fine things another day.”

Isla was distracted only once, by a woman in a stall working clay at a small round table which she was spinning with her foot. Behind and beside her in the stall were fancy pots she had apparently made herself. Vara had to pull Isla on as well, laughingly promising, “We will look at it all one day soon. Come along.”

They entered a street with no stalls, but still bustling with activity. This was a market with store fronts. Windows filled with so many beautiful things that Ruby could not look fast enough to see everything she longed to see.

Finally, at a window where elaborate dresses were on display, Vara reached over and opened the shop door. Ruby looked up at the sign over the door to see a pair of decorative scissors and thread amid the words Capital Sewist.

When she came in, her first impression was the sweet smell of simmering potpourri. She found the simmer pot in one corner with a candle beneath it keeping it warm. Then, the rows of cloth on two walls caught her eye, and she stared in disbelief. There were more colors and textures than Ruby had ever seen in one place. She folded her hands behind her as a reminder not to touch anything, even though her fingers itched to stroke over the fabrics.

“Good morning, Ambrosia,” Vara called out to a woman standing behind a counter. The woman grinned and waved but did not stop talking to another woman on the opposite side of the counter. Vara pitched her voice low and ordered, “Come over here.” She led them to a side of the shop where there were mirrors all around a slight dais. There were a few chairs there, too, and Vara ushered them into the seats to wait.

After a few moments, the women at the counter parted. Ambrosia moved toward Vara, while the other woman slid out the door.

“Good morning, Vara,” the woman greeted. She had black hair that stood up in a halo around her—curls defying gravity in a way Ruby had never seen. Her skin was browner than what could be achieved sitting in the sun. Her teeth sparkled white against her skin as she grinned at Vara. “I’m so happy you made this appointment. I feel honored to help you clothe your new wards.”

Her own clothes were a bright orange—like some of the fruit Ruby had seen in the market stalls—but were lavishly embroidered in a way that Ruby did not think would suit her at all: a matching pair of tight trousers and top.

Vara reached out and shook the other woman’s hand as she replied, “You know I wouldn’t trust anyone with my family’s wardrobe other than you, Ambrosia.”

The woman withdrew a coiled measuring tape from a pocket and said, “Who’s first, then?”

Vara nodded down to her and said, “Let’s start with Ruby.”

Ambrosia smiled at her and gestured for her to join her at the dais. She had Ruby step onto the dais and then onto a stool. She kept up a running conversation with Vara while she posed Ruby and measured her. She measured her waist, hips, bust, the length from her ankle to her hip on the outside, then again from ankle up her leg on the inside. She blushed furiously when the woman slid the tape up her thigh, widening her eyes at her sister.

Vara interrupted her conversation with Ambrosia to say, “It’s all right, Ruby. She just needs accurate measurements so she can get you a proper wardrobe.”

Ambrosia immediately backed away and clucked apologetically at Ruby. “I’m sorry, child. I ought to have warned you that I was going to measure beneath your clothes. Do you want me to pull the curtain?” She gestured toward a curtain across the front of the dais that would effectively cut off the sightline of the chairs.

“Do you need me to undress?” Ruby squeaked.

“Not today,” Ambrosia promised gently. “This is just your measurements. At your first fitting, I’ll need you to undress so you can put on the muslin test garments. For now, I’m just measuring. Everything else is on top of the clothes.”

Ruby, coloring slightly, said, “I’m fine.”

“Okay then,” Ambrosia said warmly. She measured Ruby’s arms from wrist to shoulder, inner wrist to armpit, and then around the wrist, the lower arm, and then upper arm. She measured around her neck, and then around her head. She paused her conversation with Vara again to say, “All done.” She scrawled a bunch of measurements down on a pad of bound pages from her other pocket. Ruby was astonished at how well she was able to remember all the measurements at once. It was something she thought she could never have done: hold all those numbers in her memory for that long.

Isla was next. She also colored when the woman measured up the inside of her leg, but she managed not to squirm at it. When she finished, she gestured for them all to follow her to the counter.

“Come,” she encouraged gently. “Come see what my newest designs are. Let’s make some choices.”

She had several tomes of drawn images at the counter which she let them leaf through. Ruby and Isla opened one and found faceless women drawn on the pages with bright outfits on them. Along the side of each page was a list of cloths.

“These are the textiles that can be used for these designs,” Ambrosia explained, gesturing down the list. “I can add embroidered designs on many of the textiles, if wanted.”

Vara nodded toward the woman’s bright embroidered garments. “Embroidery must be coming into fashion this season.”

“Yes,” Ambrosia agreed. She flipped another tome open to several designs with embroidery drawn in. “This is similar to what the queen wore to auction last month. It’s becoming quite a rage.” It was a dress with embroidered vines and flowers over the entire bodice.

Vara made a disapproving sound in her throat. “I think it’s a bit much for children. Maybe for Festival garments, but not everyday use.”

“No,” Ambrosia agreed with a smile. She closed the tome and nodded toward the one in front of Ruby and Isla. “That’s much more practical.”

Vara asked, “Is the embroidery always mono-colored like this?” She gestured toward the bodice of Ambrosia’s orange top, overspread with orange embroidery.

“Yes. That’s the current style. I’ve seen a few colored embroidered designs, but I find them to be a bit—”

“Gawdy?” Vara asked with a smile.

“Yes,” Ambrosia agreed. “I think the mono-color is a clean statement of wealth.”

“I agree,” Vara said. Ruby blinked in surprise at the mention of wealth making a statement. She had never heard of anything like that before.

“And I think one or the other garment is sufficient,” Ambrosia said, gesturing toward her own clothing. “Just the blouse or the leggings—but not both.” Vara nodded her agreement.

Isla colored and said, “I’m not sure how comfortable I would be in leggings.”

“Physically, you’d be the most comfortable in your life, I’d bet,” Vara told her gently. “But if you can’t stomach the idea emotionally, we can stick to skirts for you.”

Isla nodded. Ruby did not agree, though. She was eager to try out the leggings that seemed to offer so much freedom of movement. Taryn had been wearing leggings and seemed to be able to run with ease.

“What about you, Ruby?” Vara asked.

Avoiding Isla’s gaze, Ruby admitted, “I’d love to try some new things.”

Vara squeezed her shoulder encouragingly even as Isla shot her a reproachful glance.

It took them a long time to go through the designs and discuss the options. Once, when Vara was insisting that a dress be made up in silks, Isla protested. “That’s much too expensive for me.” Vara grabbed her chin and looked her in the eyes.

Firmly, she said, “You will not worry about the cost of anything, little girl. Your responsibility is to be comfortable and take joy from your clothes. You can’t do that if you wear clothing that chafes or stifles you.” She looked back at Ambrosia and insisted, “Silk.”

Isla did not try to dissuade their aunt from selecting lavish cloth or designs again. Although, several times she winced at the choices. Ruby, though, looked excitedly over all the designs. Despite Isla looking at her with concern, Ruby pointed out every interesting design in the books. Once Isla even leaned over and hissed, “It’s too much, Ruby.”

Vara leaned over and put her face near theirs to whisper, “It’s not too much, Isla. I will be replenishing your wardrobe twice every year. Once for the wet season and once for the dry. And if either of you grows in any way, I will account for that as well. Please believe me, little girls: I want you to have everything.”

Isla’s eyes filled with tears and she whispered, “It’s just very expensive.”

Vara stroked a hand down Isla’s hair. “I am sufficiently wealthy enough to handle two more wards. I need you to try and let go of the fears of being a financial burden. You’re not any kind of burden to me.” She pulled back and smiled down at Ruby. “You may have 30 outfits.” She told Ambrosia, “Thirty besides festival garments.”

“Each?” Isla squeaked. But Ruby was already pointing out her favorite selections for Ambrosia. As Vara pulled Isla back from the counter to have a private whispered conversation with her, Ruby made herself focus on the selection process.

“You excited?” Ambrosia asked, leaning on her arms on the counter and capturing Ruby’s attention with sparkling brown eyes.

Ruby nodded, but then admitted, “It’s hard when my sister disapproves.”

Ambrosia’s face softened. “Of course it is, baby girl. It’s important to remember something, though, as you start to find out who you are deep inside. No one—not even the people who love you most—have a right to dim your light. You are bright, and you have a right to be bright.” She jerked her head aside toward Vara and Isla. “Everyone has their own journey, you know? It’s okay for you to go at your own pace.” She sat back and patted the design tomes. “Let’s pick your thirty, hmm?”

FIVE

When they left the shops, they had seventy designs rush ordered. Thirty each for day-to-day garments, and then five each for festival clothes. Vara also ordered a few outfits for herself, but without the rush. To Ruby’s surprise, their first fitting was in three days.

“It’s just the first test-fitting,” Vara explained. “To make sure the fit is good before she makes things out of the final fabrics. And it will only be a few of the garments. She’ll have you in for a second fitting once the basics have been made up. Then, she’ll have the pieces delivered as they are finished.”

“How does she do so much work so quickly?” Isla asked. Ruby knew she was interested in this. She had always been interested in becoming a seamstress. She had intended to work for a local seamstress in Louvel when she was old enough, and would hopefully have worked her way up to becoming one herself one day. It had been the plan they had made with mother. Isla took over the laundry business when mother took ill, with Ruby helping as she could. But the plan was always for Ruby to take over all the laundering eventually so that Isla could pursue her dream of becoming a seamstress. Then, when she was a successful seamstress, they could end the laundering business and Ruby could join her sister as a seamstress. It had never been Ruby’s dream. She had agreed to the plan because it was what mother wanted for her.

“She does not do all the actual work herself,” Vara said as they walked back through the shops. “First of all, she has several sewists who work for her. And of course, she has apprentices who are learning her trade. They oversee the slaves doing most of the actual sewing.”

Isla stopped dead in the street. Ruby, who was holding her hand, stopped and looked back at her. Isla’s pale face had gone even whiter. Her hand felt cold in Ruby’s. Vara turned around when she realized her wards were not beside her. She came back to them with a mask of calmness on her face. Ruby was starting to know her aunt better now. She thought she could detect some concern or nervousness from her.

“She has slaves making our clothes?” Isla hissed. Ruby was relieved her sister had not shouted aloud, but Vara glanced around anyway, as if afraid someone walking by would overhear.

“Come,” Vara instructed. “We will discuss this when we get home.”

Isla dropped Ruby’s hand, turned on a heel, and marched back up the street. For a moment, Ruby did not know what to do, or what to think. But she knew without a doubt that Isla intended to return to Ambrosia’s shop. Vara caught up to her and latched her fingers around her arm to halt her progress.

“We are going home,” Vara ordered in a tone that gave Ruby chills. “Come with me now.”

“I must cancel the wardrobe,” Isla insisted, blue eyes raging as she glared up at her aunt. Ruby had no idea how Isla managed to maintain that level of eye contact with her aunt, whose very presence intimidated Ruby into silence and obedience.

“No,” Vara toned, dragging Isla around and marching with her up the street again.

Isla shrugged her off—attempted to shrug her off—as she insisted, “I will not wear any of it now that I know it was made from slave labor.”

Vara’s voice was even colder and quieter when she said, “Lower your voice at once. And the appropriate term is ‘slave service.’” Her eyes scanned the moving crowd as she spoke. Ruby, only a pace away, strained to hear her. “Stop being petulant! There is not a garment made in e’Silea that is not crafted by slave hands. Or did you think that dress you’re wearing was painted into being by fairies?”

The gust of breath Isla expelled was the most defiant sound Ruby had ever heard from her. In astonishment, Ruby watched as her quiet, careful, polite sister turned as pink as her dress. She bellowed, “I do not support the enslavement of men!”

Vara’s eyes slid shut for the briefest moment. A heartbeat of time in which Ruby’s fear escalated quickly. When Vara’s eyes opened again, they were thunderclouds. “You will not speak again until we are in the temple,” she ordered in the coldest voice Ruby had heard from her. Ruby chewed on her thumbnail and silently begged her sister to comply.

Isla did not lower her voice when she answered, “I will not be silenced when I am in the face of these horrors!” It was like watching a docile kitten give a lion’s roar.

Vara slapped a hand over her mouth again, and this time she squeezed. Ruby was certain it had to be painful, but Isla only glared. “The words coming out of your mouth sound like treason. That is not a citation offense. It’s a detention offense. If you are detained for this misbehavior, they will carry you away and put you in a cell. Is that what you want? To be imprisoned away from Ruby?”

The blue-eyed glare gave way for a moment—fear. She tried to shake her head.

“You will shut your mouth until we are inside the temple. Do you understand me?”

Isla glared again, but this time she tried to nod around their aunt’s hand clasping her face.

“Is there a problem here?” a woman asked as she crossed through the street toward them. Ruby turned with wide eyes to see the woman approach, her gait purposeful, her tone firm. She did not wear a uniform, but had a sash across her chest with a triangular pendant over her left breast. Police, Ruby was certain. She was inwardly surprised to learn that, even though it was a woman here, all police had the same swagger.

Vara did not remove her hand from Isla’s mouth as Ruby expected her to do in the face of the policewoman. She put on a smile. “No. Good morning, Nella.”

Nella was clearly startled. Her eyes widened slightly and she gave the slightest half-step backward when she saw who she was accosting.

“Good morning, Vara,” she said, and her tone had much less authority than a moment before.

“It’s all right,” Vara said firmly, and with a bit of volume, as if welcoming the watching passersby into the conversation “Write it up, please. I will not suffer even my own wards to breach the peace of our fine e’Silean streets. Not even new wards who are fresh off a Mainland boat.”

Nell seemed to pull herself together in an instant under Vara’s harsh stare. She reached into a pouch Ruby now saw was attached to the sash across her chest and retrieved a tablet of bound pages. Aloud, she said, “She’s a child, clearly. I am certain some simple instruction at home can correct these kinds of outbursts.” As she wrote on the pad, she said, “Disturbing the Peace.”

Vara sniffed and said, “Then Fatalism will receive its own citation?”

Nell flinched slightly, met Vara’s hard eyes, and then looked back down at her writing pad. “Of course,” she said aloud. “Doesn’t it always?” Ruby was certain, though, that the only reason Nell wrote out a second sheet of paper was because Vara mentioned it. She had not intended to do it.

She tore two pages off the pad and handed them to Vara. “Will you require any assistance resolving this situation?”

“Of course not,” Vara laughed. It sounded lighthearted, but Ruby was close enough to see the darkness in her aunt’s eyes. “She’s a stubborn little girl. I have handled my fair share of those through the years.”

Nell also chuckled. “I remember Chloris finding her way onto the rooftops at Docks End when she was about this age.”

Vara laughed, too, as if it was a humorous recollection. “Yes. And jumped into a vat of whipping cream when she was chased down. The sight of her!”

Nell winked playfully at Isla. “Now that is how a child rebels against her temple keeper. Sweet cream and candy shoppes.”

Vara pulled Isla toward her, against her shoulder, sliding her hand to cover her ear as she playfully scolded Nell. “Do not give her any ideas! I had better take her home before she gets it into her mind to run for the sweet shoppes.”

Nell drew a sign in the air with two fingers as she backed away laughing. “I mean, a girl’s got to push her boundaries or how’s she ever going to become independent one day?”

Vara made a meal of folding her citations and slipping them into her pocket. Then, she firmly took Isla and Ruby each by a hand and walked down the center of the street. Ruby kept her eyes down but was aware of the gazes following them until they turned into the market street. Isla, apparently cowed now, tripped along beside Vara without a word, though her pale face still had the red marks from where Vara had held her face too tightly.

Ruby glanced up at her aunt once and asked, “Why did you tell that police—”

Vara cut her off sharply. “Nope. Not one question until we are back home.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ruby whispered, and dropped her gaze again.