Page 13 of The Girl Who Fell Through Time
“I need you to pack my trunks,” Selene replies, trying to maintain an air of composure, as if running away to marrya man she barely knows is a perfectly reasonable decision. “And… bring Mistress Stripe, please. I’m taking her with me.”
Cassie nods. “And… me?” she asks. “Am I coming with you? Or will you send for me when you’re settled—”
Selene hesitates. The truth is, she hasn’t factored Cassie into her plans at all, nor has she asked Dorian to expect another person. Traditionally, a lady’s maid always accompanies her mistress when she marries. They are often the only constant in a new and unfamiliar household. But this isn’t a traditional marriage—she’s running away. That complicates everything.
She wants to take Cassie with her. Selene isn’t sure how she would have survived her first marriage without her maid’s presence. And though she suspects Dorian is different from the Duke, she doesn’t truly know him yet. She would be friendless in his estate.
It ought to be an easy decision. And perhaps it would be—if Selene hadn’t learned, only a week ago, that Cassie is hopelessly in love with Elspeth, one of the maids at Roselune Abbey.
The revelation had come during the darkest days, when the Duke had virtually imprisoned them in Nocturne Hall, forbidding anyone from leaving. Guards had swarmed the estate—not Ashvold soldiers, not yet—but their questions had gone unanswered, and a sense of dread had settled over them.
One night, both of them had cried themselves to sleep.
“I wish Elspeth were here,” Cassie had whispered in the dark. And then the whole story had come tumbling out.
In all their years together, Cassie had never spoken of love. It wasn’t proper for a servant to mention such personal matters. Selene had been struck by the strange realisation that she knew so little about the girlwho had been her constant companion since childhood, even though Cassie knew everything about her.
Now, as Selene stands on the precipice of a new life, she realises she hasn’t spared a single thought for Cassie today—or for Elspeth.
But she spares a thought for them now.
Selene isn’t the only one who deserves a second chance.
“No,” she says softly. “You should stay here. With Elspeth.”
Cassie’s cheeks flame. “Elspeth!” she exclaims, practically gasping. “Why would you even bring her up—”
“I’ve noticed that the two of you—”
“How? Who has said something—”
“No one,” Selene assures her. “I just… have a feeling.”
Cassie screws up her face, her expression sceptical. She has every right to doubt Selene’s claim. Selene is hardly the most observant person. She hadn’t had the slightest inkling before that night.
Cassie turns away from Selene and moves to the wardrobe.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” Selene teases.
“So’s a broken clock,” Cassie replies, avoiding her gaze, “at least twice a day.”
She confirms nothing, but she doesn’t seem the least bit upset about being told to stay. She pulls out Selene’s trunks and begins to pack, folding dresses with care, murmuring about which ones might fare best for travel and which might suit a future filled with uncertainty.
“Take the gowns you know you’ll wear,” Cassie advises, folding the emerald silk dress with a sigh. “The simpler ones, I mean. Not so many with the beading or embroidery—you’ll likely not have the opportunity to replace them if they’re damaged.”
The gravity of leaving behind the lavish life Selene once took for granted hits her. She reaches for one of her finer gowns, a sweeping midnight-blue piece adorned with glassbeads, then hesitates. Cassie is right. She has no idea what awaits her. Dorian’s estate isn’t known for opulence; there will be no courtly balls to attend, no grand occasions. Instead, she needs gowns she can move in, ones that won’t raise too many eyebrows among Dorian’s modest neighbours.
Cassie holds up a dress Selene has long avoided—a practical, high-collared gown in deep burgundy. “This one is sturdy and warm. And if you’ll be needing to manage a household…?”
Selene nods, trying to stifle her reluctance. “Yes, and that one,” she adds, gesturing to a plain ivory dress with sleeves that tie at the wrists. Practical, but unremarkable. Her thoughts stray to the Duke’s lavish gifts, so many of them wasted because he bought what he thought she should want instead of what she truly loved.
Cassie seems to catch on to her thoughts, raising her brows as she gently closes the lid on one of the trunks. “Won’t be quite the same, will it?” she says, sounding oddly wistful.
“No,” Selene answers softly, feeling an unexpected pang of longing for the familiar—even if it had been stifling.
She decides to take nearly all of her jewellery, reasoning that it will serve well as a form of currency. Cassie watches her choices with a nod of approval, carefully wrapping the jewellery in velvet cloth.
“I’ve packed two trunks,” Cassie says finally. “If that seems right?”
