Spun

Prologue

Click! Clack! Click! Clack! The clicking of my heels is like a out of sync metronome, against the drumming of my heart. It beats rapidly in my throat, out of place and adding to my nervousness.

My new spindle earrings tap rhythmically against my upper jaw, where the tips of my father's fingers pressed earlier. I still feel a phantom tingling from where he kissed my forehead.

"Make me proud." He boomed lovingly.

Reflecting on my father's affection helps to soothe my jittery nerves. I reach a wooden door with a single frosted glass pane. Sanctum of the Spinner is written in ornate gold letters on the pane. Waving my keycard over the access panel, the door opens and I step inside.

Royal blue carpet lines the floor of the vast room. Thick goldenrod curtains cascade down beside my towering windows. I run my fingers across my massive desk. Mahogany. My white ceremonial robe has been draped across it. Placing my leather briefcase on the floor, I gingerly lift my robe from the table. Whoever laid it here, did so carefully, and has successfully left it wrinkless. I sit down slowly on the edge of the desk, and hug the soft, strong fabric. I can't wait to see its light glow against my skin.

Well Nina, you've finally made it. My inner voice says. All of that hard work has paid off. Late nights studying. All those tests. But then again I guess this was always going to happen. After all, I've been fated to succeed.

Joy explodes through me, and I can barely contain it. Squealing with glee, I lay back on the desk, kicking my legs, like I'm being attacked. Slowly I take deep breaths, trying to calm down. This is no way for a Solli to act.

"Hello Madam Cloth."

I bolt upright. Standing to my right is a diminutive woman wearing a steel blue dress suit. She adjusts her matching flowered hat, and then clasps her hands behind her back.

"I am Mailard Moriarty. Your personal assistant and secretary." She bows.

"Hello." I bow in return. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"The pleasure is mine. We have much to do today, so we should get started."

I slide off the table, accidentally upsetting a cylindrical container of pens and pencils.

"Oh dear." I frantically grab the spilled pencils, and jam them into the metal cup. Standing up, I dust off my snow white skirt. "Ok, I'm ready."

"Follow me Madam Cloth." I pick up my briefcase, and follow behind Ms. Moriarty. Portraits of my predecessors line the beige walls of my room. My eyes linger on the last two pictures. Madam Martha Trope known throughout Aranea as Miss Measure. To the right of her portrait is Mr. Deci Linear, my predecessor. Aranea's most powerful hearthrob.

I will be working closely with both of them for the foreseeable future. I'm going to work hard and earn their respect. I will succeed. This is my fate. And I love it.