Page 40 of Antiletum

A quick scan shows breakfast has been deposited on my table tucked in a corner, indicating that my husband has already left to defend me to Parliament.

A breath snags in my chest.

My dark owl is also nowhere to be found, leaving a tingle of disappointment in his absence. Too much hopefulness slinks through me, wondering if perhaps he’ll come back tonight. Maybe I could clear out a darkened space for him to perch and sleep in my rooms during the day.

I don’t feel so alone when he visits. Something about him helps to shrink the gaping maw of my grief, new and old. Especially sinceTabitha left to start her own life as a married woman. I hope that I hear from her soon.

Disconsolate morning solitude seems like a good time to resume my failed attempts in removing my dress, success more likely now that I’m no longer inebriated. I stand, joints popping and arms twisting in unnatural angles like a deformed ventriloquist doll. I still can’t quite pull free the spidersilk ribbon of my corset. I’m meandering all around my large room, feet lost in my plush rug, as if dancing about and changing where I stand will help free me from my dress.

Turns out, my drunkenness had little to do with me being unsuccessful in stripping last night.

A maid helped me into the cursed thing, and I have an astute suspicion that perhaps my husband knew I would struggle to get out of it. Probably thought I’d eventually succumb and ask for his assistance. Cheeks flare red, remembering that Ididalmost give in and seek him out. But it had nothing to do with the dress.

It’s both painfully bitter and sinfully sweet, how fulfilled I was last night—much like with the owl—in Val’s presence, not trying to hide or hold back. It feels like betrayal in too many ways. Beyond my sister’s advice from beyond.

I fear Val’s winning me over. And I think I might want him to. Our conversation last night and the insight into both his personality and his ideals…

They’re admirable. Especially with the passion behind his beliefs and what he wants.

Unbearable mourning pulls at my heart, making me feel sick.

This only mounts my desperation higher to escape Val’s gift wrapped around my body like a glove. In a panic, I hunch forward, the ends of my hair brushing the floor while a remaining decorative feather flutters free.

“Come on, you insufferable!” Yank. “Miserable!”Yank! “Fucking cunt!”

“Are you cursing at your dress?” an amused voice asks from the doorway.

With a dizzying turn, I find Selise, watching me with equal amounts pity and humor. The maelstrom of confusion and heartache roaring in my mind halts in her easy company.

“I can’t get this loose.” I tug at the spidersilk ribbon, so soft and smooth I barely feel it between my fingers. The shortness of my breath is embarrassing.

“Well, my Lady, I am happy to help!”

With a sigh of relief, my limbs loosen and drop to my sides. “You’re a wonderful person. Thank you.”

Selise chuckles, lines pulling at the dark skin around her mouth. The two miniscule diamond shards of her mirror nose piercings glint in the morning light. “Of course.” She makes a stop at the phonograph on a table, setting the stylus in place for a calming tune to warble from the large horn.

She works quickly at unknotting the ribbon. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I would have knocked, but your door was wide open.”

“It was?”

“Yes.”

“I must have forgotten to shut it back when I stumbled in last night.” My lips downturn. I swear that I did. Reluctantly putting that barrier between me and Val.

Miraculous fingers free my crushed rib cage that is certainly bruised. I can imagine my torso looks like a shoddily painted twilight sky. Nelda and her miracle concoctions are high on my list for the day to ease my corset-induced aches.

“I don’t even remember making it back to our apartments last night.” Selise laughs, glowing. “Mallin said he had to carry me.”

Holding the dress against my chest to not gape open, I grin, leaning against an end table, the large leaves of a potted plant brushing my elbow. “Did you ever get your toe-crushing dance?”

“I did. And it was the loveliest of waltzes I’ve ever partaken in.”

“Really?” I question, surprised. “It sounded like there’d be no such thing with Mallin.”

“Oh yes. Positively divine. He rarely dances. I savor it when he does. Even if it hurts. Nevermind that I was drunk enough I couldn’t even feel him stomping all over me.”

I laugh, loud and joyous and so utterly true it takes me by surprise. I’ve only laughed like this with a small amount of other people, one being Rainah. Not even Tabitha brought such out of me, or I her.