This is Ours

Chapter 16

"Just add a freakin powdered wig and I could be freakin Elizabeth Schuyler!"

"Language," Anne chastised.

"It's not that bad," Lucy disagreed, fingering the layers of material covering my small frame.
"It's Just more timely then you're used to."

"There is ruffles," I growled.

"Pipe up America," Mary said, knocking me upside the head. "It's a lovely dress inspired by a different time era. All the girls are doing it. You're us inspired by the late 1700's, early 1800s. I heard one girl is doing the 1950's and the other one the 1980's. One is even doing the 21st century. What a scandalous time that was!"

Anne nodded, sticking a pin into the layers of tule. "Those dresses barely hid any thing. You'd have to choose between pulling it up or down when wearing one. So improper."

"Exactly. Whoever wears that one is sure not going to be our queen," Lucy says.

"This dress is so big, it needs a queen," I muttered under my breath.

Apparently not quiet enough.

Anne tisked. "It's lovely."

"You made it. You're biased," I pointed out.

"Hush," Lucy snipped, sticking a pin into the sleeve of the dress and purposely poking my skin.

I jumped from the quick prick and sent her a glare. She giggled innocently, silently readjusting the pin with nimble fingers. Over worked fingers.

"How often do you get a day off?" I wondered.

"We have our daily breaks, miss," Mary mumbled, ducking behind me to stick pins into my back-ahem-dress.

I furrowed my eyebrow. "You mean to tell me you don't have full days off?"

"When were sick, miss. They wouldn't want us to get any germs in the food or infect the royals," Anne explained, like it made sense.

"That's sick!" I gasped. "You're being overworked!"

"They're the Royals. I believe they decide when we're being overworked," Lucy disagreed.

"We can't have them being under staffed," Mary almost recited. As if she has been force fed those words her whole life.

"They've even brainwashed you into thinking it's true!" I yelled.

"America," Anne sighed in exasperation.

Lucy shook her head sadly. I bet she has been given this same speech she's giving me over and over. "You were a five, Ames. You know how it is."

"You work until you can support," Mary recited the old saying. "Yourself and you're family."

"But even than you have to choose between having lights and eating!"

"That's why we live here," Lucy shrugged.

"Away From you're family?" I asked.