The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

put down her bobbins with a sigh and crossed the large workroom to the new girl’s pillow. Owner Brunix had given Katrina extra food and new blankets for her bed in return for helping the beginners keep their work straight and error free. After three years she had proved her skills above and beyond any of the free workers.
    Somehow, someday she’d find a way out of this miserable factory and back to her rightful place in society where she could wear two plaits again. Becoming the best lacemaker ever was the key to her survival and eventual freedom.
    Brunix had offered many times to change her slave status to employee if she willingly shared his bed. That course was no more than another form of slavery.
    “This pattern is too hard,” Maari protested.
    She sounded so much like Hilza before her last illness, Katrina had to restrain the urge to hug the girl to her breast. She hadn’t allowed that wound to heal. The reminder of the deprivations inflicted upon her family by King Simeon kept her angry. Made her strong enough to survive and to resist Owner Brunix’s sexual offers.
    Allowing any man to take liberties with her body was too close to King Simeon’s ugly demands for Katrina to agree to her owner’s lewd suggestions. Why didn’t he just rape her? He had the right. He owned her body.
    She’d never give up her soul.
    “There is nothing new in this pattern, Maari,” Katrina explained brusquely. “I’ve added two extra pairs of bobbins to the fan and reversed the rose ground with the half-stitch diamond.”
    “But it looks different. And the half stitch is always tangled.” Maari’s lower lip stuck out. Hilza had pouted the same way. In a moment the girl would cry. Big fat tears that garnered sympathy but did nothing to mar her clear skin and sweet blue eyes.
    Katrina hardened her heart lest she shatter three years of reserve and give in to Maari’s sulks. Fixing the problem for her wouldn’t help the girl overcome her lack of proper training. Nor would it give her the skills to survive in the fierce competition of factory life.
    “Half stitch always looks tangled until you get four or five rows into it. Look.” Katrina extracted a long pin with a costly amber bead on the head from the thickest part of her single plait. She was supposed to use this expensive gift from Owner Brunix to separate her growing clumps of bobbins into sections. It was more useful as a pointer. The tiny insect trapped in the amber was a constant reminder of the prison she had made for herself in accepting slavery in the factory over King Simeon’s coven.
    She laid the length of the pin along one thread running through the questioned part of the pattern. The mistake jumped into view.
    Maari nodded, eyes wandering around her pillow.
    “Watch the threads, not the bobbins.”
    Maari’s eyes jerkily followed the path of the pin along the threads.
    “Oh!” Maari breathed. “I twisted twice instead of once.” Hastily she reached for her bobbins to unweave the lopsided diamond.
    Katrina halted Maari’s hasty movements with a touch of the pin. “And never throw the bobbins! Lay them down neatly, in order. That is your true problem, Maari. You do not respect your bobbins or your work. You led a pampered life, and your teachers always rescued you. Now you have to take care of yourself and fix your own mistakes.”
    Maari had come from a wealthy mercantile family brought to ruin by the war and changing times, just as Katrina had. No one had helped Katrina during those early days in the factory as she struggled to keep up with more experienced lacemakers. No one had protected her from their cruel insults and sneaky tricks. Jealous rivals within the factory sometimes stole a bobbin from a pillow—usually from a place that required extensive reworking to add a replacement thread.
    She jerked her head around to view her own pillow to make sure no one did that now. Taalia, one of the senior employees, stood halfway between her own work stand and Katrina’s. She scuttled back to her chair at Katrina’s fierce glare.
    Katrina returned her attention to her pupil. “Tomorrow, I expect to see every half-stitch diamond worked correctly. I also expect to see your hands scrubbed and your fingernails clean .” She retreated toward her own work.
    “Did you give Owner Brunix the new design?” Taalia asked as Katrina passed by. Her tone was as breezy as ever, not acknowledging her previous attempt at trickery.
    “Not