I waved. “I’m Fallon, and this is my father, Jeremy Brookshire.”
“Well met.” Mable bowed her head lightly.
“Well met,” he replied, though I’d never heard him say that in my entire life. Must be a Gilded City thing.
“I’m also the landlord.” Mable waved at the house we stood in. “My granny and grandpa lived here for as long as I can remember. When Eden marries, the home will go to her.”
Eden looked horrified at the thought of marrying and I giggled.
“Not anytime soon,” Mable warned her daughter with a finger pointed her way, which caused Eden to grin.
Dad chuckled at that. “It’s a lovely home. Thank you. We will take good care of it.”
Mable nodded, smiling sweetly.
“Oh, and I almost forgot.” Eden pulled an ID card out of her pocket. “This gets you into the East Side and The Academy. But there are curfews. I can teach you all about that on the way to school. Pick you back up in like a half hour?”
I inclined my head, pleased, as I took the ID card. It had my name and physical description on it with a place for a picture to be added later, and I slipped it into my back pocket.
Mable looked happy. “All right, girls, do you mind if I speak to Jeremy alone for a moment?”
Eden waved goodbye to me and ran off down the street, seemingly back to her home.
I disappeared into the house with the box of clothes but stopped at the hallway, keeping my ear out so I could hear what she was going to say. Hipsie watched me from the couch with a devilish grin but said nothing.
“I don’t mean to pry, but from what I’ve heard, you were made to leave your home in the middle of the night and are not allowed to go back?” Mable asked.
My father cleared his throat. “That’s right. Fallon must remain here for the next four years for schooling. I’ll be assigned a job in the next day or so.”
“Well, I don’t want to offend, but I manage the Hummingbird Inn and we have extra soaps, and toothbrushes, and combs, and things like that, if you would want me to drop some off later?”
It was silent for what felt like forever.
My father was a proud man. He’d always provided for us. We didn’t have fancy things, but I’d always had a toothbrush, chunk of soap, and a comb. Until now. I’d had to clean my teeth this morning with the edge of a towel and water.
“I would appreciate that, if it’s no trouble,” he finally said. I knew it killed him to take the handout. Food was one thing, but this felt bigger. This felt like he was a failure, but I knew that wasn’t true. We had those things, they were just stuck in Isariah.
“All right, then, Jeremy. Welcome to the neighborhood.” I could hear the happiness in her voice.
“Thank you, Mable.” My father was a kind man and I hoped she saw that, hoped she knew we were good people. I scurried down the hall just as the front door shut and went to my new room, upending the box of clothes onto my bed.
Oh Light!
I sifted through it all in surprise. A thick, almost-brand-new red travel cloak. Brown scuffed boots that looked slightly worn but not split like my current ones. They were one size too big, but nothing two pairs of socks couldn’t fix. Three pairs of pants: one grey, one black, one bright purple with a slight tear in the knee. Then a bunch of blouses that I was grateful were long-sleeved, so I could cover my skin. Finally, there was a pretty, emerald-green sundress that was ankle length and sleeveless, but the ruffles and lace made it probably the nicest thing I owned, right now or ever.
But the best things in the box were the thin, black, elbow-length gloves. They were some type of stretchy silk fabric that looked like they probably matched a very regal evening gown. I guiltily stroked the fabric, almost wanting to give them back. They were too good a prize. Something I would covet beyond anything else in this box. Pulling off my father’s work gloves, I slipped them on, relishing the lightweight feel, feminine cut, and stretchy fabric that breathed.
Next, I put on the new grey pants, brown boots, and black long-sleeved top, then tied my hair into a tight bun at the nape of my neck. Finally, I grabbed the red cloak and stepped out into the living room.
Hipsie was moaning and I tensed, thinking she was in pain.
“Blast the Light! This is the best damn meat pie I ever had!” she shrieked as my dad fed her another mouthful on the couch.
He was smiling and I burst into giggles.
I sat down right there on the floor, using the coffee table as a dining table, and Dad handed me a fork. I dug right into the pie, taking a thickly crusted piece and popping it into my mouth. Flavor burst across my tongue and I moaned. It was buttery but also heavy in herbs. Sage, rosemary, and something else. I inhaled a large slice, keeping enough for my father and Hipsie to have now and at lunch, and then I stood.
“I guess I better go to school,” I offered.
