Page 36 of A Slipper in the Smoke
“You were singing while you were washing. I can’t remember the last time you did that.”
“Oh.” Elena hadn’t even been aware she was doing it. “What was I singing?”
“An old Navarran song. I couldn’t understand it. It was very pretty, though.”
Elena started to hum under her breath, switching through various tunes she barely remembered until Mariah found the one she recognised. “Yes! That one! What’s it about?”
“Oh, a lady singing for her true love, asking him to find her as the nightingale sings… it makes more sense in Navarran.”
“Could you teach it to me?”
Elena blinked. Never, not once, had Mariah asked to learn any Navarran.
“Of course.”
She started with the chorus, although Mariah’s pronunciation was terrible and it seemed to take forever for her to even closely mimic the words Elena was singing. Her words were slurred, half-lost, half-nonsensical. But it was silly and funny and they were laughing by the end.
“Mariah!” hissed a cool, dark voice.
Elena turned. The Baroness stood in the doorway, arms tight at her sides. “Mariah, what are you doing, cleaning dishes? That is no task for a lady.” She sneered the final word.
You told me I was a lady, once,Elena wanted to retort, only the words never formed beyond a thought.
Mariah went quiet. “I’m sorry, Maman. I was just—”
“Yes?” the Baroness prompted. “You were just doingwhat?”
For years, Elena had held out hope that one of her stepsisters, just once, wouldsay something.“I was just helping out Elena because she does so much and we so little.” “I was cleaning the dishes, because I dirtied them too.” “I just don’t understand why we do this.”
Why, why, why?
That was always the question—one Elena had long since stopped asking herself, just as surely as she’d stopped hoping.
Mariah hung her head. “Nothing, Maman.”
“Good. Go to your room.”
Mariah said nothing as she scurried away, mouse-like, eyes down. The Baroness’ rose to Elena’s, hard and steely.
“You are not to accept help from Mariah, is that clear?”
“Yes, Baroness.”
“And if I catch you teaching her silly songs again, I will have you sleeping in your garage for a week.”
“Yes, Baroness.”
The Baroness’ lips thinned. Sometimes, Elena thought, the Baroness looked like shewantedElena to retort, that she wanted her to fight back just so that she could retaliate.
But Elena never did, not anymore.
“Good,” she said sharply. “Then finish up in here. There’s plenty more to be getting on with.”
*
Elena worked so hard on her day off that she was relieved when the next morning rolled around and work began again in the palace. Her entire body ached, and she hadn’t had the rest she needed to recover. It was bliss to set herself down at her workbench, pull on her goggles, and get to fixing. She was conscious of how chafed her hands were from yesterday’s work, her knuckles raw and cracked, and what Pip might think if he held them again today.
If he even came.
