Page 133 of Phoenix's Fire

"Yeah," I breathed. "I guess it was. When Gideon smiled at me, it made me feel pretty. Before I turned - since we all get married once we turn twenty - well, he used to bring me things. Once, it was a flower. A real one. I thought it must've been so hard to get, but now I see they're everywhere."

"And yet we still like getting flowers up here," she said. "It's nice to feel like someone wants you."

"It kinda is."

She nodded at that. "You know what's better?"

"No, not really."

"Wanting yourself." She lifted her glass and took a drink. "It's nicest..." She paused, making a face. "Is that a word?"

"Nicest? Yeah, maybe? But best?"

"Best," she agreed. "It's the best when you no longer care what anyone else wants from you, and you can listen to yourself. When knowing you're good enough isn't based on someone else approving or not."

"What do you mean?"

"Making people angry, or kissing someone you like but they think is ugly. Telling someone no! Being rude. Being nice." She shrugged. "Being you, no matter what you'resupposedto be."

"Is that why you kissed the tan man?"

She grinned. "Drozel? He's fun. I also seem to have a thing for men with big muscles and who aren't available." But she waved that off. "All I'm saying is I don't care if you do or say things that aren't right. I probably won't either, and if you want to talk about anything, I'm actually a good listener."

"I don't even know where to start," I admitted.

So she gestured around the room. "Why not here? Point out the first fabric you see that catches your eye. We can start with showing you how to use this machine, and go through our friends, our enemies, our exes, and everything else while we create something pretty."

I stabbed my finger at the black-and-white cloth. "That one. I've never seen anything like it before."

"Geometric pattern," she said, heading over to fetch the fabric. "Bold choice for a girl who wants to please others."

"Should I pick something else?" I asked.

She glanced back with a devious smirk on her face. "Oh, hell no. This one's perfect. This one, Meri, is for the new you."

I glanced down at the roundness before me. "Oh."

Lessa grabbed the bolt and began hauling it back over. "Did you know the idea of pregnancy scares me?"

"Really?" I asked.

She made a face. "Scare. Scar." Then she shook her head. "Terrifies."

"Scare," I assured her.

"I've always been glad I can't do it. I mean, I don't even know if I want kids." And she set the cloth down between us.

"I don't know if I do either."

She reached for her scissors. "Yeah? Why don't you tell me about that?"

The surprising thing was that I did. As she began to cut out shapes, somehow knowing exactly where the lines should be, I began telling her all about the women who'd died, how Naomi was worried, and that I was convinced Gideon would still end up killing me even though I'd managed to get away.

And Lessa? Shelistened.

Forty-One

Ayla

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