Page 55 of The Girl Who Fell Through Time
Wanting isn’t good enough. Sheneedsto do something.
“Do you mind if I retire for the night?” she asks them.
“You don’t need to ask,” Ariella reminds her. “We’ll see you in the morning.”
Selene heads off without another word, but she doesn’t go to bed. Instead, she goes to the library. She finds the most recent newspaper she can, and spreads it out, along with a map of the area. Finally, she locates an empty notebook (Dorian, it seems, collects stationary) and splits the book intosections. Births, deaths, crimes, natural disasters, weddings, seasons, investments…
She will remember something. Shewill.
Certain things are easier than others. She remembers births, engagements, weddings and society events with almost crystal perfect clarity, whatever good that knowledge will give her. She writes them all down, dates them as well as she can. Other things are harder, but she tries her best. There was a shortage of green crops during post harvest. Was there a drought during the summer?
Of course, there is one date that sticks with her. Four months from now, her grandmother will die.
She remembers that date well.
For hours, Selene scans through the newspaper, trying to trigger something, getting very little.
It’s almost midnight by the time she gives up.
She packs everything away and takes her notebook with her, hoping that inspiration will strike at some point in the night. It seems like an important thing to keep lying around, so she tucks it into a hat box. She lies on the bed, still fully clothed, and thinks. Mistress Stripe comes to sit beside her. Selene’s fingers absent-mindedly wind through her fur.
She’s too awake to sleep, and it’s late.
Her mind drifts back to Dorian. Dorian who’s likely still up, quietly burning himself away. More than helping other people, she wants to helphim.
An idea strikes her. It might be foolish—and she does risk some embarrassment—but this is Dorian, and she doubts that he’ll be angry.
It’s worth a try, isn’t it?
Someone—Ariella probably, maybe Marta—has left a decanter with some wine in on the table by the window… the one set for two. Selene helps herself to a glass and lets it settle. It stops her nerves from fraying, makes her courage easier to gather.
She takes a sip of a second glass and stands up, making her way to Dorian’s study.
She knocks on the door.
“Who is it?” comes Dorian’s reply.
“It’s Selene.”
Silence. “One moment.”
There’s the sound of rustling papers, and something like a curtain, and then Dorian appears in the gap at the door. “Are you all right?” he asks.
Confidence,Selene reminds herself.You were confident, once.“This arrangement doesn’t suit me anymore,” she tells him.
Dorian frowns. “I’m sorry?”
“This deal we have where we spend one meal together a day. It no longer works for me.”
“You don’t wish to eat together?”
“On the contrary, I find myself just as spoiled and greedy as ever,” Selene continues, not letting him object. “I want more. I want you to play a game with me. Just one. Your choice. One game a day, in the evening, just the two of us.”
She expects him to make further protests—to rebuff her, dismiss her, maybe even to be angry. Hasn’t he already done enough for her? He is not here to entertain her.
“Why?” he asks instead.
“Why what?”
