This is Not My Home

Chapter Thirteen

Somewhere in the Middle

Ollie grabbed the strings of the corset and tightened it, grimacing. The random voice from earlier had been eerily silent up until now, as if she'd disappeared. She hoped the voice was gone; having one's thoughts read and known at every second of every day wasn't something she wanted.

She tightened the corset a little more until it was secure, then put on the rest of the gown she was wearing today. She was beginning to realize how pointless this was, but society had its demands, and if she wanted a life, she needed to meet those demands.

She slipped on her shoes and put on a bit of jewelry, then smiled at her reflection and stepped outside.

Ollie headed down the corridor and toward the library. Maybe Esmerelda would be there, or maybe not. The girl seemed a bit shallow but was the only friendly one here.

She wandered around the library, a flood of contentedness filling her head to toe. Her corset might be tight, her shoes might be squishing her feet, and it was too hot in here, but at least she was in a library.

Ollie grabbed a book and sat down near a window. She read for a little while before being called into the ballroom.

Miss Catherine awaited her. "All the other girls are assembled. We've got some boys here to practice dancing."

She kept her expression respectful as she stepped into the room. The room went silent as she entered, and everyone was staring at her. She was a little overdressed, but only she could notice.

"Boys," Miss Catherine said, walking over to the director of the boys' school, "choose a dancing partner."

A boy with wavy brown hair that framed his face perfectly walked up to her. He had striking amber eyes and sharp features. He was only a few inches taller than she and maybe a year or so older.

The other boys picked their dancing partners, and Ollie couldn't help but feel a stab of resentment. Why couldn't she pick who she wanted to dance with for once? What if she wanted to dance by herself?

She and the boy got to dancing, along with the other couples. The gentle music filled the room as they danced.

"You look pleasant today," the boy mused as she twirled into his arms, then sidestepped.

"As do you," she said, keeping her face carefully expressionless. They fell into a typical pose; her hand on his shoulder, his on her shoulder blade, and their hands clasped.

"Might I know your name?" he asked, his voice rumbly and low.

"I'm not sure it concerns you," Ollie replied.

He cracked a smile. "Alright, Miss..."

"Miss Sky," she said.

"Miss Sky," he mused as they gently rotated. "Pleasure to meet you."

"And you," she replied gently. "Now that I've told you my name, might I hear yours?"

"Mister Foxglove."

"Isn't that a poisonous flower?"

"Yes, it is. The entire plant is poisonous. It's often mistaken for borage, brewed to tea, and kills people."

Her eyebrows raised. "I see Foxglove knows his plants."

"And Sky knows her manners," he replied.

She couldn't resist a bit of a laugh.

The music swelled, and the couples danced faster. Ollie found it difficult to keep up and began to wonder if this was practice for the banquet that was conveniently coming up... When was that again?