Page 27 of Alien Charming

CHAPTER 13

Once again Elli knelt in front of her window, this time watching the parade of villagers making their way towards the forest path. Not all of them by any means, but more than she’d expected, drawn by curiosity as much as good wishes. The women wore their best dresses, flowers woven into their hair. Even old Mr. Finley had managed to leave his chair by the fire to attend the ceremony.

Her breath fogged the glass, and she wiped it away with her sleeve, unwilling to miss a moment. Somewhere in those woods, Seren was waiting. Even though he wasn’t waiting for her, the thought of him standing tall amongst his people made her heart flutter traitorously in her chest.

At least she’d managed to slip away earlier that day to create a crown of flowers for Tessa to wear, hoping her friend would understand why she couldn’t be there in person. The crown had included some of her special hybrids, and she wondered if Seren would recognize them. Would he understand her absence as well?

“Elli! Where are you, girl? These floors won’t scrub themselves!”

Aunt Margaret’s voice cut through her daydream, and she moved back from the window, letting the curtain fall back into place. On her bed lay the list her aunt had left—a spiteful collection of tasks designed to keep her occupied until long after the ceremony ended.

Clean the pantry shelves.

Polish the silver.

Scrub the kitchen floor.

Inspect the linens.

The list went on, each item more tedious than the last. She picked it up, the paper trembling slightly in her fingers. Outside, laughter drifted up from the path as the last stragglers hurried to catch up with the main group.

“I’m coming, Aunt Margaret.” She folded the paper and tucked it into her apron pocket.

In the kitchen, her aunt stood by the door, adjusting her hat—a ridiculous confection of ribbons and artificial flowers. “I expect everything on that list to be completed by the time I return. No daydreaming, no wandering off.”

“Yes, Aunt.”

“And stay away from the windows. I won’t have the neighbors thinking I’m raising some kind of peeping tom.”

She lowered her eyes. “Yes, Aunt.”

The door closed with a final click, and her aunt’s footsteps faded down the path. She pulled out the list again, then crumpled it in a sudden fit of rebellion. But what was the point? Ignoring heraunt’s commands wouldn’t change her situation. And perhaps if she worked hard enough, she could stop thinking about Seren.

She retrieved the bucket and scrub brush from beneath the sink, filling it with water that was too hot for comfort. The soap stung the small cuts on her hands—evidence of yesterday’s battle with the rose bushes—as she knelt on the hard floor and began to scrub. Unfortunately, the task wasn’t demanding enough to keep her thoughts from drifting to the ceremony. To Seren. To what it might feel like to stand beside someone who looked at you like you mattered.

Her knees ached as she worked the brush across the kitchen floor. Half an hour had passed, and she’d barely covered a quarter of the space. At this rate she wouldn’t finish until after midnight—after the ceremony ended, just as her aunt had planned.

A sudden knock at the door made her jump, and she sat back on her heels, pushing a stray lock of hair from her face with the back of her wrist. Who could that be? Most of the village should be at the ceremony by now.

The knock came again, more insistent this time.

She dropped the brush into the bucket and stood, wincing as her knees protested, then wiped her hands on her apron and hurried to the door.

“Who is it?” she called, hesitating with her hand on the latch.

“It’s Agatha, dear. Open up before my old bones turn to dust out here.”

She pulled open the door to find Scarlett’s grandmother standing on the doorstep, looking remarkably spry for someone who’d just claimed impending dustification.

“Mrs. Ashworth—I mean, Agatha. Shouldn’t you be at the ceremony?”

The old woman peered past her into the house and shook her head.

“And shouldn’t you? Yet here we both are.” Her sharp eyes took in Elli’s wet apron and reddened hands. “Though it seems one of us is having a significantly worse evening than the other.”

She winced, looking down at her sodden clothes. “Aunt Margaret left me a list of chores.”

“Did she now?” Agatha stepped inside without waiting for an invitation. “Well, that won’t do at all. The bonding ceremony is an important cultural exchange. Educational, even. What kind of aunt would deny her niece such an opportunity?”

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