“Won’t I?” Stasiya smiled back at her.
Ashlin ignored the dull ache deep in her heart that told her she should be attending the ball in this dress. It was such a rare thing to see her sister so happy that she did not want to spoil the moment with her bitter thoughts. Maybe she could even entice her sister to spend time with her while she finished the gown. “Let me gather some of the extra fabric, and we’ll add those flowers right now.”
“Do I have to keep this on the whole time?”
“It will be the best way to decide where the flowers should be placed.”
“Alright.”
Ashlin dashed to the kitchen to retrieve more supplies, giddy that her sister had agreed.
The flowers were easy to create, and Ashlin worked on them quickly so as not to bore Stasiya. As she finished each one, she let her sister choose where to place it on the gown.
“Add it to the bouquet on the skirt,” Stasiya instructed on the fourteenth flower.
That particular bouquet already had eight flowers in it, and Ashlin was worried that it was ruining the natural symmetry of the design. “What if we spread it out, to give more of an illusion of lace?”
Stasiya scrunched her nose. “No, I like the bouquet best.”
With a few more stitches, Ashlin added it to the overgrown bouquet. It might not be her first choice, but it felt as though they were working on something together, and she was enjoying that feeling.
She had just started on the next flower when a knock sounded at the downstairs door. Stasiya made no move to answer it, so Ashlin hurried down the stairs. She opened the door to a young man in the livery of the palace. He bowed perfunctorily and handed her a folded parchment. The letter was stamped with the seal of the royal family. Was it from Onric? She dipped her head in thanks, but the deliveryman was already striding back to his waiting horse.
“Who is it, Ashlin?” her stepmother called, following her down the stairs.
“A letter from the palace,” Ashlin replied. She wanted to open it herself, but there was no indication who it was for. She handed the folded parchment to her waiting stepmother.
“A letter from the palace?” Stasiya followed her mother down the stairs.
“It’s another invitation,” Lady Cabril said, her eyes scanning the letter as she explained its contents. “They have extended the invitation to all the citizens here in the city.” Her eyes narrowed. “Which means that anyone can get in.”
Ashlin’s heart skipped a beat. She could attend the ball herself as Stasiya would no longer need to take her invitation. “Which means that I can get in.”
Two pairs of eyes turned towards her.
“Surely I can attend now as well.” She could not keep the smile from her face. “We no longer need to... reserve my place for Stasiya. I can go too, as Ashlin.”
“My dear,” her stepmother replied, “whatever shall you wear?”
“Perhaps I can alter one of my sister’s old dresses?”
“I suppose, if she has something she would not mind giving you.” Lady Cabril turned her gaze to Stasiya, who remained silent. “Of course we would love to have you join us, but there still is a bit of work to do on your sister’s gown, so you will not have time to alter something for yourself...”
“Mother,” Stasiya interrupted, “I think Ashlin should be allowed to join us. It is quite unfair that she has to remain home when she is part of our family, after all.”
Her sister’s accepting words soothed the fear Ashlin felt while making the request to join them. She was wanted.
Lady Cabril batted her eyelashes, overcome by her daughter’s kindness. “You are so giving, my dearest daughter.” She drew Stasiya into a hug, but her eyes flitted over to Ashlin, ensuring that her stepdaughter had heard her words. “But that still does not solve the problem of what a kitchen maid could wear to a ball.”
“She can wear this dress, of course.” Stasiya indicated the blue gown that she was wearing. “She has spent so much time on it, after all.”
Ashlin’s eyes widened. She had not breathed a word to her sister about wanting to wear the blue silk. Perhaps her sister had noticed her appreciation for the fabric over the time they had spent working on it together. Her eyes stung with tears.
“But what will you wear?” Lady Cabril asked her daughter.
“Perhaps Mistress Cedrice still has some dresses that have not sold yet...?” Stasiya’s head was lowered, but her eyes, soft and questioning, looked up at her mother.
“Be a dear and get me the box above the mantle,” Lady Cabril responded.
