The Cultivated Girl

Chapter 16 - Hard truth

The next few days were hard. Alone and immobilised, Simone had far too much time to think. Joli mostly stared at the ceiling and sighed and Simone didn't know what to say to her. She had known all along that she was one of the youngest of the Earth Years, but it had never seemed very obvious or important. Simone was completely out of her depth. What do you say to your pregnant friend when you've never even kissed a boy, never mind had sex?

She'd noticed the odd cute guy but when you're moving around all the time, making friends is hard enough. Simone's taste for designer clothes came from her mother, although Simone's ran more to jeans and street style than suits. She never swapped make up tips or tried her hair in 101 different styles. Amira was the closest she'd ever come to a bff.

Simone ached all over. Her leg throbbed, her stomach still hurt and the full extent of her mother's betrayal gnawed at her. She replayed Amira's words in her mind, over and over again: "You're special Simone. The Sanctuary has spent centuries carefully matchmaking to create the perfect priestess-warrior. That's you."

She didn't feel special. She felt like roadkill.

"You have a brother. His name's Max. He's three years old and he lives with your father."

Family. A warm glimmer sparked in her chest. Maybe Amira would take her to see them. She could cuddle her little brother.

No, she thought. I'm being ridiculous. Where were they when I needed them? Playing happy families with mum, no, Elizabeth. Like it or not, this, this convent is my home now. I may as well be an orphan. This is my family.

She scratched irritably at her dressing and splint. If she was going to have to keep still she wished she could at least be reading in the bath. Not that bathing would happen anytime soon. This was ridiculous. Simone sat up and swung her leg over the side of the hammock. She gingerly tapped her toe on the floor.

No pain in the leg, that's got to be a good sign, she thought and carefully stood up. She swayed, not because of dizziness but the floor. It was spongy. Without thinking, she went down to inspect it, using her arms to plank down.

The stone floor was covered with a fine mesh of grey moss. It grew into the pores of the rock. No wonder the water had disappeared so quickly, the floor had soaked it right up. She didn't want to dwell too long on what other substances the moss devoured in the infirmary.

"By the goddess. Ma cherie. Are you okay?"

Simone looked up to see Joli peering over the edge of her cream hammock. The dolketian had been so quiet and withdrawn lately Simone hadn't even checked to see if the curtain was open.

"Yes, yes. I haven't quite face planted yet," she said, annoyed. "I was just checking out the floor. It has weird stuff growing on it."

Joli looked like she didn't quite believe her. "But your leg?"

Simone took a few exploratory steps. "You know, it actually feels ok. A bit weak but not really sore anymore."

Joli raised an eyebrow. "Whatever you say, cherie."

"How about you? How's the uh, you know, the baby thing going?"

For a moment Joli looked like she was about to roll over and go silent again. "Come on Joli. That's not fair. You're not the only one with family issues. Talk to me. Who else are you going to talk to?"

Joli didn't answer but at least she was listening, those strange blue within blue eyes focused intently on Simone's cast.

"You probably don't know this," said Simone, "but I just found out I have a father and a little brother. And my mother, my mother..." She rubbed angrily at her eyes to catch the rogue tears before they betrayed her. "She's some high-up priestess here. She even has a title, 'The Diplomat'. I thought that was just her day job, on, on Earth! I don't know what to think anymore. I hate it here but I can't get away. She'll just ship me right back."