Vagary

Four: Murder in the Rye

Fear is a strange emotion. It can be applied to so many situations, so many people, times. But fear, is not the most important part of me right now. My act is. As I walk out of the business hall with the other ladies the reminder of my posture is the only thing keeping my act together. I was not ready for this. I was not trained, I was spoke to. But I cannot slouch.

Walk with confidence. Demand attention. I straighten my spine and try my best to flow across the floor and into a new room. The ladies all know their places and sit around this new room with lower ceilings and less interesting engravings. "Who are you darling. I would have remembered such a pretty face with riches?" A women smiles. It's not a friendly smile. It's the smile one is given when they know they are on top. One of predator to prey. Every bone in my body is arching away from her, but I force myself to adapt the look on her face, to believe I am more important than she.

"Of course you wouldn't. My name is Elaina. I'm so pleased to make your acquaintance." I smile back. The angry look on her face diminishes and I feel all the breaths in the room escape the ladies mouths.

"Oh darling we've been longing for another lady to add to our little trust- and you are so adorable. Please say you'll join us for tea! It's already coming." She laughs. I actually don't know what's going on. Is she acting? That was not a fake look.

"Pardon me but, it did not seem like you approved of me-"

"Oh Elaina we practice that look all the time! Isn't it so fun? We've gotten quite good at it. Angels! I am so rude. My name is Abigail Prescott. My fiancé is the man who probably greeted you at the door. You know? Tresh Adrens?"

I don't believe I can keep track of all the different tangents she has taken in this conversation. "Yes I do. He was quite charming. You are quite the lucky lady."

"Why thank you." She giggles. "Oh ladies I just love this little darling girl. Tell us about yourself. I can hear you're from up north, and who are you with? Ladies don't just come here for fun of course." She laughs rolling her eyes.

I sigh and they all lean in. "Well, you know my name and I am from up North. I actually think it's so far you may not have heard of it." I make up, I need to turn this conversation around. "Anyway, I came down south to become educated. My parents passed away in an accident that-"

"Oh you poor thing." The voices all start to flow around my head and they're all repeating the same thing. We're so sorry. We're here for you.

"Oh it's okay." I muster. "Thank you." Once they look satisfied with my response they all expect me to continue talking. They're flighty and gossipy and so extremely noble. It's everything Sam and I would make fun of. They really are no different or a threat at all, I laugh mentally.

I tell stories of the North and make up pieces of a life I've never even lived and they soak it up like sun on the first warm day. Eventually they all talk about their lives and husbands. Then, they get to gossiping.

I try it to listen to it all, but one catches my ear. "Do you remember that devilishly handsome Lord Wes?"

"Angels how could I forget? Dark, brooding, though his political views aren't the most... acceptable, but he does have great expectations."

"No mind to that. He's art. He's back on Greir Abigail. He's back."

"I think it was him. I think he killed Roblyn. I think he wanted his wife so he killed him." I mentally laugh. Wrong.