Read Online Sterling by Emily June Street - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Emily June Street
Ads: Link
frustration, I curled on the back stoop and tried to sleep.
In my dreams, oncoming horses beat down the road.
Chapter Seven
A voice , not hooves, woke me. “Miss, miss.”
An unfamiliar face leaned over me. The girl—or was it boy?—could not have been much older than I. She had an earnest look, friendly and concerned. Her face was tanned and covered in freckles. She wore breeches, but surely her jaw was too delicate to be anything other than a girl’s? “Miss, are you all right?” Her hand rested on my shoulder.
“I need water.” I tried to sit up.
She pulled out a ring of keys, unlocked the door, and disappeared into the Lone Line building, returning with a ceramic cup. My hands shook so much I spilled half the water as I took it.
“Come in and have a seat.” She led me into a foyer lined with hard benches hewn from rough wood—the stagecoach waiting room, probably. “You don’t seem well,” the girl said.
“I’ve been walking without food or water.”
“Oh! I’ll get you something to eat. The next coach is due around midday, so you’ve a while to wait.”
“I have money,” I told her. “I can pay for a meal.”
She brought grainy mush and a cup of cheap Lysandrene tea. I didn’t care; I shoveled the food into my mouth and gulped the tea, burning my tongue in my eagerness.
“Feeling better?” the girl asked.
“Yes, thank you. I would like to get passage on the next coach.”
“Well, of course you do! You can’t walk to Avani.”
“Avani? But I want to go to Lyssus—”
Her eyes widened. “Surely you weren’t thinking of walking all the way to Lyssus, miss? It’s too dangerous, walking alone anywhere , what with the war and all, much less Lyssus!” She looked over my clothes: the plain grey dress, the white cap. “Are you in service, then?”
“Ah—yes.” As if it wasn’t bad enough to be on the run, friendless, and orphaned, I also had to lie. I hated lying. “I’m on my way to my new position.”
“Your new master didn’t pay your way? Typical. You gotta demand such things. Grand folk don’t know how it is. They’ve never wanted for money. Sometimes you have to stand up for yourself, especially in these uncertain times. More tea?”
I shook my head.
“I hope there’s a spot in the next coach; might be full from Engashta. There’ve been more travelers since the war ended. I heard it’s all over, you know, and that the Ricknagels won. I hope Lord—King—Xander doesn’t add a new transportation tax for public coaches. The Galatiens did every year, and it hurt business.”
She hadn’t yet heard of Costas Galatien’s escape or Papa’s death, then.
“So, you do chambers or what?” the girl continued.
“Chambers?” For a moment I thought she meant chamber music. I’d never been accomplished on any instrument, though my mother had insisted I learn the clavier.
“Are you a chambermaid or do you do kitchen work? What’s your new position?”
“I—ah—” My mind raced. She was just a talkative person; I didn’t need to be so suspicious. “I do chambers. What—what is it you do here?” Her breeches threw me. She’d be dressed like me if she were a maid.
“Why, everything. Have some more tea; there’s plenty.”
“What do you mean, everything? Do you live here alone ?” She could hardly be older than twelve years.
“Sure I do.”
“But—your parents—your guardians—”
She chortled. “Been gone a long while. But the man who drives the coach is nice, pays me all right, even better since the war. All the prices have gone up with the uncertainty. My name’s Rachell. You?”
“St-ah-Serafina.” I had been caught off my guard.
“What a grand, pretty name.” Rachell laughed. “I’ll call you Sera.”
I shuddered. Like me, she was an orphan, but she seemed so much more capable of fending for herself, alone in the world.
Was my mark showing? I covered the right side of my face with my hand. “Do you have a—a—” I
In my dreams, oncoming horses beat down the road.
Chapter Seven
A voice , not hooves, woke me. “Miss, miss.”
An unfamiliar face leaned over me. The girl—or was it boy?—could not have been much older than I. She had an earnest look, friendly and concerned. Her face was tanned and covered in freckles. She wore breeches, but surely her jaw was too delicate to be anything other than a girl’s? “Miss, are you all right?” Her hand rested on my shoulder.
“I need water.” I tried to sit up.
She pulled out a ring of keys, unlocked the door, and disappeared into the Lone Line building, returning with a ceramic cup. My hands shook so much I spilled half the water as I took it.
“Come in and have a seat.” She led me into a foyer lined with hard benches hewn from rough wood—the stagecoach waiting room, probably. “You don’t seem well,” the girl said.
“I’ve been walking without food or water.”
“Oh! I’ll get you something to eat. The next coach is due around midday, so you’ve a while to wait.”
“I have money,” I told her. “I can pay for a meal.”
She brought grainy mush and a cup of cheap Lysandrene tea. I didn’t care; I shoveled the food into my mouth and gulped the tea, burning my tongue in my eagerness.
“Feeling better?” the girl asked.
“Yes, thank you. I would like to get passage on the next coach.”
“Well, of course you do! You can’t walk to Avani.”
“Avani? But I want to go to Lyssus—”
Her eyes widened. “Surely you weren’t thinking of walking all the way to Lyssus, miss? It’s too dangerous, walking alone anywhere , what with the war and all, much less Lyssus!” She looked over my clothes: the plain grey dress, the white cap. “Are you in service, then?”
“Ah—yes.” As if it wasn’t bad enough to be on the run, friendless, and orphaned, I also had to lie. I hated lying. “I’m on my way to my new position.”
“Your new master didn’t pay your way? Typical. You gotta demand such things. Grand folk don’t know how it is. They’ve never wanted for money. Sometimes you have to stand up for yourself, especially in these uncertain times. More tea?”
I shook my head.
“I hope there’s a spot in the next coach; might be full from Engashta. There’ve been more travelers since the war ended. I heard it’s all over, you know, and that the Ricknagels won. I hope Lord—King—Xander doesn’t add a new transportation tax for public coaches. The Galatiens did every year, and it hurt business.”
She hadn’t yet heard of Costas Galatien’s escape or Papa’s death, then.
“So, you do chambers or what?” the girl continued.
“Chambers?” For a moment I thought she meant chamber music. I’d never been accomplished on any instrument, though my mother had insisted I learn the clavier.
“Are you a chambermaid or do you do kitchen work? What’s your new position?”
“I—ah—” My mind raced. She was just a talkative person; I didn’t need to be so suspicious. “I do chambers. What—what is it you do here?” Her breeches threw me. She’d be dressed like me if she were a maid.
“Why, everything. Have some more tea; there’s plenty.”
“What do you mean, everything? Do you live here alone ?” She could hardly be older than twelve years.
“Sure I do.”
“But—your parents—your guardians—”
She chortled. “Been gone a long while. But the man who drives the coach is nice, pays me all right, even better since the war. All the prices have gone up with the uncertainty. My name’s Rachell. You?”
“St-ah-Serafina.” I had been caught off my guard.
“What a grand, pretty name.” Rachell laughed. “I’ll call you Sera.”
I shuddered. Like me, she was an orphan, but she seemed so much more capable of fending for herself, alone in the world.
Was my mark showing? I covered the right side of my face with my hand. “Do you have a—a—” I
Similar Books
