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Authors: Josi S. Kilpack
Tags: Fiction
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expression reflected in the mirror before looking at herself. Her gasp was audible as she gingerly lifted a hand to the front left portion of her head which had no hair at all. The patch above her ear that she had noted earlier in the evening had expanded, like wine spilled on a rug. The pale skin was smooth beneath her touch: warm, and completely . . . bald.
It can’t be , she said in her mind. She placed her hand over the offending portion as though to hide it and turned in her seat to see full clumps of hair at Suzanne’s feet. She looked at the portion of silk still in Suzanne’s hands and could see several stands of her hair woven into it as well.
“I was simply trying to brush out the tangles,” Suzanne said. “I do not know what—”
“You put the silk on too tight,” she accused her maid as her ears filled with a rushing sound. This had to be Suzanne’s fault, never mind that Helen had been collecting Amber’s fallen hair prior to Suzanne’s arrival. The maid had to bear responsibility. “You hate me, you have always hated me, and you are determined to ruin me!”
“Miss,” Suzanne said, sounding shocked as she took a step back, “I have naught but helped you all this time. I have—”
“You have rendered me an atrocity!” Amber yelled back, her rage overflowing her ability to reason. “Until you came, all was as it should be. Your attention to me has changed everything. Were you sent from the household of a rival? Have you conspired with a suitor whose attentions I have thwarted?”
Amber paused for breath as Suzanne cowered near the bed, her head hung so that Amber could not see her face. Amber did not hear the creak of a door hinge until it was too late. She snapped her head to the side in time to see Darra and her mother standing in the doorway, horror on their faces.
They stared at Amber for what should have been a breath, though Amber could not draw air as she took in the wide eyes of the interlopers. Their expressions finally brought her to herself, and she let out a strangled cry. Raising her hands to her head, she desperately searched for a hiding place and saw the open door of the wardrobe.
She ran to the space created between the open door and the wall and sank to the ground. The realization that her secret was no longer a secret pounded her mind like a hammer against stone.
“Leave us,” she heard her mother snap a moment before the door to the bedchamber closed. There was silence, and Amber curled over herself, covering her ragged head with her arms, unable to catch her breath due to her corset and gown. She heard the wardrobe door close, revealing her to the room, and she pulled even tighter to the corner, wishing she could disappear completely.
“Show yourself to me,” her mother commanded.
Amber shook her head. She could not do it. She could not bear to have them see her.
“Darra,” she heard her mother say a moment before Lady Marchent grabbed one of Amber’s arms, pulling it away from Amber’s head. A moment later, the softer touch of Darra’s hand on Amber’s other arm pulled it away as well. She tried to fight them, aching for her corner even as she was drawn to her feet and forced into the center of the room. Knowing she could not prevent their inspection, she covered her face with her hands and sobbed.
For some time her mother and Darra were silent, until Amber controlled her emotion enough to drop her hands and lift her swollen eyes to meet those of her mother’s, which looked at her with both shock and disgust.
“You stupid girl,” her mother said, each word falling like hot coals at Amber’s feet. “What have you done to yourself?”
Chapter 8
Amber sent her regrets by messenger to Lord Sunther first thing the next morning, claiming she was ill and could not ride out with him. She spent the rest of the day in her bedchamber with one of her mother’s ugly mobcaps on her head. Her mother did not appear until the afternoon when she followed a
It can’t be , she said in her mind. She placed her hand over the offending portion as though to hide it and turned in her seat to see full clumps of hair at Suzanne’s feet. She looked at the portion of silk still in Suzanne’s hands and could see several stands of her hair woven into it as well.
“I was simply trying to brush out the tangles,” Suzanne said. “I do not know what—”
“You put the silk on too tight,” she accused her maid as her ears filled with a rushing sound. This had to be Suzanne’s fault, never mind that Helen had been collecting Amber’s fallen hair prior to Suzanne’s arrival. The maid had to bear responsibility. “You hate me, you have always hated me, and you are determined to ruin me!”
“Miss,” Suzanne said, sounding shocked as she took a step back, “I have naught but helped you all this time. I have—”
“You have rendered me an atrocity!” Amber yelled back, her rage overflowing her ability to reason. “Until you came, all was as it should be. Your attention to me has changed everything. Were you sent from the household of a rival? Have you conspired with a suitor whose attentions I have thwarted?”
Amber paused for breath as Suzanne cowered near the bed, her head hung so that Amber could not see her face. Amber did not hear the creak of a door hinge until it was too late. She snapped her head to the side in time to see Darra and her mother standing in the doorway, horror on their faces.
They stared at Amber for what should have been a breath, though Amber could not draw air as she took in the wide eyes of the interlopers. Their expressions finally brought her to herself, and she let out a strangled cry. Raising her hands to her head, she desperately searched for a hiding place and saw the open door of the wardrobe.
She ran to the space created between the open door and the wall and sank to the ground. The realization that her secret was no longer a secret pounded her mind like a hammer against stone.
“Leave us,” she heard her mother snap a moment before the door to the bedchamber closed. There was silence, and Amber curled over herself, covering her ragged head with her arms, unable to catch her breath due to her corset and gown. She heard the wardrobe door close, revealing her to the room, and she pulled even tighter to the corner, wishing she could disappear completely.
“Show yourself to me,” her mother commanded.
Amber shook her head. She could not do it. She could not bear to have them see her.
“Darra,” she heard her mother say a moment before Lady Marchent grabbed one of Amber’s arms, pulling it away from Amber’s head. A moment later, the softer touch of Darra’s hand on Amber’s other arm pulled it away as well. She tried to fight them, aching for her corner even as she was drawn to her feet and forced into the center of the room. Knowing she could not prevent their inspection, she covered her face with her hands and sobbed.
For some time her mother and Darra were silent, until Amber controlled her emotion enough to drop her hands and lift her swollen eyes to meet those of her mother’s, which looked at her with both shock and disgust.
“You stupid girl,” her mother said, each word falling like hot coals at Amber’s feet. “What have you done to yourself?”
Chapter 8
Amber sent her regrets by messenger to Lord Sunther first thing the next morning, claiming she was ill and could not ride out with him. She spent the rest of the day in her bedchamber with one of her mother’s ugly mobcaps on her head. Her mother did not appear until the afternoon when she followed a
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