Page 73 of A Slipper in the Smoke
She rapped lightly on the door. The Baroness had never seen fit to give her a key. She would usually leave the door unlocked for her, but not always. Not if she displeased her.
The door flung open. Mariah stood in the entrance. “Elena!” she said, throwing her arms around her. “You’re OK!”
Elena hugged her back, but couldn’t find any words to utter.
The Baroness glared at her from inside the apartment. “And where have you been? We were told to expect you back this morning.”
Elena chose her next words carefully. “I’m sorry, Stepmother,” she said, “I wanted to get a headstart on any work that had been waiting for me. I went down to the garage instead.”
The Baroness pursed her lips. Elena imagined that this answer pleased her, but she didn’t want to admit it. “Well, I’m glad you’ve taken some steps to make up for this unfortunate absence of yours,” she said. “And at least the Crown was kind enough to compensate us for your absence… although why they sent a Toulousian here, I’ve no idea.”
“Toulousian? You mean… Pip?”
“She said her name was Susan-something, why?”
“Nothing.”
Elena had no idea why Susan came, nor why compensation was offered in the first place. Pip had said something about it, but she’d half-assumed he’d made it up to calm her. Susan must have come as a favour to Pip. It didn’t explain the monetary compensation, though… Why would Mira ever offer such a thing? Mira, who didn’t know who she was, who killed her own subjects for telling stories and barely took ‘no’ for an answer?
The Baroness clicked her fingers against the sideboard. “It’s late,” she said. “We’ve been having to cook our own dinner, not that you care. There might be some leftovers you can eat. Don’t hover in the door. You’re letting in a draft.”
Elena did not need to be told twice. She closed the door behind her and headed into the kitchen, reheating leftovers as quietly as possible to avoid the Baroness’ temper. It would not be the first time she’d changed her mind about feeding her after offering. The reheated stew tasted like paste next to the delicacies of the palace, but that hardly mattered. She ate it quickly and headed to her tiny room and the cold, musty sheets.
She dressed in her frayed nightgown, trying not to think of the silk one she’d borrowed in the place, and lay down on the bed. She wasn’t exhausted enough to sleep on the lumpy mattress between the cold, rough layers. Her thoughts were louder than ever.
Thoughts of home and Navarra seemed further away than ever, and so did Pip, away in the palace, on the brink of leaving her and Petragrad forever. The idea of never seeing him again scraped at her heart. The same heart she’d offered to him.
One way or another, it would all be over the night of the ball.
Would she even get to say goodbye?
There was a soft knock at the door, and in came Mariah, black hair in rags, eyes bright. She skipped across the room and sat down next to her.
“Mama’s asleep,” she told her. “I’m so glad you’re back.”
“Me too,” she said, almost meaning it for Mariah’s sake.
“Guess what happened while you were away?”
“Hmm… you grew two inches?”
“No.”
“Ivankasmiled?”
“Definitely not.”
“The Baroness said something nice?”
Mariah pouted.
“Well, I’m afraid I’m all out of ideas.”
Mariah clapped her hands together. “We’ve all been invited to theball!Apparently Maman’s title still counts for something, because we received these beautiful invitations…”
Elena paused, only half-listening to her. It seemed strange that Mira would extend them an invitation after all this time.
She’s desperate,she realised. News of the revolt was certain to have spread to the palace by now. Mira needed the support of her citizens, a show that everything was fine, and was inviting anyone that could pass as noble.
