16 | The Token

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What's left of the dream ripped from behind Arya's lids as she bolted up

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What's left of the dream ripped from behind Arya's lids as she bolted up. Her sheets were rumpled and messy, like she was tossing and turning the whole night. Her tangled locks slapped her forehead, getting caught up in the stumps of her horns. She swiped at her hair, her face, and her sheets, stumbling off the bed without any elegance.

Cornelia watched this all with her arms crossed over her chest. Her pink sleep robe wasn't less silky than yesterday. Blond hair which Arya could only describe as fluffy housed violet rollers her aunt wore to sleep. Green eyes followed Arya as she tore through her drawers, looking for a proper brush to get her hair in order.

"Why didn't you wake me?" Arya growled as she found the brush and trudged to the mirror as tall as her next to a coat hanger. She poured her frustration into her poor strands, just heaving the bristles down against the tangles. Never mind it biting back against her scalp or how many locks snapped and fluttered to the floor.

Cornelia raised her manicured eyebrows from Arya's periphery. "I did wake you," she said. "Breakfast is ready, by the way."

Arya finished straightening her hair and proceeded to push it all into a hasty bun. She'd tie it properly at lunch or something. No time to braid it or do anything fancy. "I won't eat," she said, pushing past her aunt in a series of storming strides. Her footsteps pounded against the floorboards so loud their neighbors on the lower floors could tell where she went. "I have to go."

Cornelia pushed her lips shut but shut the door to Arya's room behind her. She followed Arya into the living room where she bustled around, trying to shed the gown she wore to sleep and put on the Postal Quarters uniform. Her aunt walked in on her tying the laces to her corset. Heat rushed to Arya's cheeks.

"Cornelia!" she yelled, turning towards the wall at the sight of her aunt. "I'm not finished dressing."

Her aunt rolled her eyes and closed the distance between them. Arya muttered her protest but Cornelia had already spun her around and began tightening the laces with a speed Arya wouldn't ever match on her own. "Nothing I haven't seen before, love," Cornelia said behind Arya, her voice gentle and sported a bit of amusement. "It's ten minutes to Eight Adiem. When is your shift?"

Arya stuck her bottom lip out. Stupid dream. It managed to uproot her entire morning schedule just by showing up, reducing her into a bumbling mess who couldn't even tie her corset in time.

"Nine," Arya answered her aunt as Cornelia finished tying the corset. She moved to grabbing the skirts and drawing it above her head, fastening it with more laces and pins. Next, she threw on an overcoat, coating her inner skirts and covering most of her corset. Then, she retrieved the pleated, long-sleeved shirt, stuck both her arms inside, and straightened it over her body. To finish, she fastened the outer skirt around her waist, tucking the shirt inside and providing a layer over all her skirts.

She turned to her aunt just as she headed towards the door leading outside their living room. "I should go," she bobbed her head. "Wirebus takes an hour to the Quarters."

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