Crewel

hot.
    ‘Oh stop it or you’ll ruin your cosmetics.’ Valery laughs. ‘Don’t get the wrong idea. He’s very good-looking for a valet. His eyes are as blue as Erik’s, but he’s . . .’
    I give her a drop-it look, and she holds out a bracelet, which I cuff onto my wrist.
    ‘It’s probably for the best,’ her assistant continues. ‘Cormac goes through the ladies pretty quickly, and Erik . . .’
    I can’t help but turn to listen to what she has to say about him.
    ‘He’s Maela’s.’ Valery finishes the thought.
    ‘Good thing I’m not interested in any of them,’ I say, but I keep my eyes on the mirror.
    In the reflection, I spy Valery and the girl exchange meaningful looks.
    ‘Sure, honey.’ But when her assistant goes to retrieve more of my adornments, Valery drops her lips to my ear and whispers, ‘Take the happiness you can, even if it’s only a little.’
    Valery straightens up as soon as the girl re-enters with my necklace, but her words lodge themselves in my head. Watching her movements in the mirror, lithe and purposeful without a trace of resentment for her assignment, I hope she’s happy and wish I could be.
    ‘So exactly what’s on the agenda tonight?’ I ask Erik when he meets me at the door.
    ‘Well, you looking beautiful for one thing,’ he says, and I have to hold myself back from laughing.
    ‘Does that stuff work with the other girls?’ I ask, barely containing my amusement.
    ‘Yeah,’ he says, grinning widely. ‘How are you so immune to my charms?’
    ‘Years of segregation,’ I say, letting myself smile a little.
    ‘That usually works in my favour,’ he admits in a whisper as Cormac exits his room to meet us.
    It’s not that I don’t like Erik. I even think he’s charming. Maybe it’s my years of inexperience with boys that make his flirtations more awkward than endearing.
    ‘You look lovely, Adelice,’ Cormac says, taking my hand. He ushers me out to the waiting motocarriage. I wobble on my high pinpoint heels as I step out of the hotel, but Erik’s hand shoots out to steady me. Before I can thank him, he’s faded back behind me. Stream crews call out questions, but I can’t see past the perpetual flashes of light from their cameras. I press closer to Cormac for safety despite his stinging smell. Part of me wishes I had a few doses of Valpron right now to make the whole thing easier, but I suppose it’s for the best that I don’t. I’m going to need to keep my wits about me if I’m going to get through the evening without making a serious social blunder.
    Cormac beams and calls many of the crewmen by name. He answers questions, keeping his arm tightly around my waist the whole time. Once we’re safely inside the motocarriage, I pull out of his grasp and run my hand along my dress to smooth out the wrinkles where he held me.
    ‘Can’t wait to get away from me?’ he asks, his dark eyes gone hard.
    ‘I’m overwhelmed,’ I admit.
    ‘Don’t worry about it,’ he reassures me, lighting a cigar. ‘We’re doing a simple ribbon-cutting ceremony, a few pictures, and then back to the hotel.’
    No more dinners or meetings or interviews after this. It’s such a relief.
    ‘I can cut a ribbon,’ I tell him confidently.
    ‘Arras, I hope so. You’re a Spinster after all.’ He keeps the condescending grin on his face as he puffs smoke rings.
    I’m not sure what to make of Cormac. I hate him, but increasingly, I’m not sure I’m justified in that. Sure, he’s creepy and arrogant, but of the people I’ve met since my retrieval, strangely, he’s shown me the most respect. If you call brutal honesty respect, that is.
    The motocarriage pulls up to a large crowd. Most of the neighbourhood must be here. Seeing that many people makes my hands shake, which is going to be problematic if I have to cut a ribbon. Cormac opens my door and helps me out. There are Stream crews and dozens of people. But something about the crowd is strange. On each of our stops, the people have been frenzied, trying to touch us or calling our names, but the citizens here are fairly calm. Some even look bored, as though they were forced to come. They probably were, but that’s nothing new.
    ‘So why are we cutting a ribbon here?’ I ask Cormac as he escorts me to a large brick building. I look for the telltale sign that will indicate what its purpose is, but I can’t find it due to the audience surrounding the structure.
    ‘It’s their new academy,’ he answers, placing