say, so ate more of her chicken in silence.
At length Lisha spoke again. “So do you want to move to Raneadhros to dance there? On the stage?”
“Oh, no. I love dancing, but it’s not a career. I want to find a husband there.”
Lisha looked disappointed for a moment, then shook her head. “You’re—you dance beautifully.”
“Thank you.” Roulette smiled. “But I just don’t think I can count on it, and I’ll probably never make much more money at it than I do now. I could have stayed home, but Orinthe doesn’t really have landed gentry. Achoren does, but as you pointed out, I have fur.”
“So your life plan is to marry someone rich.”
Roulette felt her cheeks growing warm. “No. No. I want to marry someone I’m in love with.”
“You just hope he’ll be rich.”
“Yes. I mean…” She set down her fork and crossed her arms. “I guess you didn’t grow up with that dream.”
“The dream of being a kept woman? No, I guess I didn’t.”
Roulette’s ears folded back.
Lisha softened her expression. “It’s not that I don’t want to live comfortably, or that I don’t want a partner. But in my childhood dreams I never wanted to be the princess waiting to be rescued. I wanted to be the one doing the rescuing.”
Roulette laughed after a moment. “You terrorized the boys in your school, didn’t you?”
“It was great,” Lisha said solemnly, then—for the first time Roulette had seen—smiled broadly. In an instant she transformed from handsome in a severe way to why didn’t I notice you were beautiful.
“So.” The raccoon blinked rapidly, hoping her unexpected blush hadn’t visibly reached her ears. “You’re not married, either?”
If the vixen noticed Roulette’s flush, she gave no sign. “There was someone back in Raneadhros, once, but when I applied for the transfer to Achoren, we broke things off. And here…” She shook her head once. “I don’t know. Maybe some people are meant to be single.”
Roulette shifted in her seat, whiskers flicking. “I’m sure you’ll find someone. You’re smart, tough and very pretty.”
“Not like you,” Lisha said, smiling again and shaking her head. “I should go see if I can dig up anything more on what Grayson had planned. His being in town to bring bottles of herani to Massey just a couple days before an opposition rally is not a coincidence. Have you written down anything about last night?”
“No.”
“Do it tonight, then, before the memory fades. I know that you don’t think it will, but it will. Try to picture the room—describe it like you’re standing in the center and turning slowly. And think about all the smells. All the sounds, too.”
Roulette nodded. “I will.”
Lisha stood up, picking up her empty plate, then hesitated. After several seconds, she said, “Thank you for coming over to talk with me.”
The raccoon smiled up. “You’re welcome. I enjoyed it.”
Lisha hesitated again a moment, then strode off.
Roulette leaned back and ran a hand through her hair, then grinned a small grin to herself. If the vixen would just let herself smile more often, she’d be married within a month.
The next morning Roulette didn’t feel like she’d ever quite made it to sleep. When she closed her eyes she saw Mr. Blue’s face—sometimes the way it looked just before he attacked her, sometimes the way it looked just after she’d attacked him. More than once she’d settled into the start of sleep, only to snap her eyes open at nightmares whose images quickly faded to a murky sense of omnipresent danger.
Judging by the light—and the calls of the birds in the rafters—she’d woken up just after sunrise. She made her way to the cafeteria to see what their breakfast would be like.
Only three other people were there. The two she didn’t recognize looked like they must be clients, not staff; the other one, surprisingly, was Lisha, sitting alone in the corner with no food but a cup of coffee. “Good
At length Lisha spoke again. “So do you want to move to Raneadhros to dance there? On the stage?”
“Oh, no. I love dancing, but it’s not a career. I want to find a husband there.”
Lisha looked disappointed for a moment, then shook her head. “You’re—you dance beautifully.”
“Thank you.” Roulette smiled. “But I just don’t think I can count on it, and I’ll probably never make much more money at it than I do now. I could have stayed home, but Orinthe doesn’t really have landed gentry. Achoren does, but as you pointed out, I have fur.”
“So your life plan is to marry someone rich.”
Roulette felt her cheeks growing warm. “No. No. I want to marry someone I’m in love with.”
“You just hope he’ll be rich.”
“Yes. I mean…” She set down her fork and crossed her arms. “I guess you didn’t grow up with that dream.”
“The dream of being a kept woman? No, I guess I didn’t.”
Roulette’s ears folded back.
Lisha softened her expression. “It’s not that I don’t want to live comfortably, or that I don’t want a partner. But in my childhood dreams I never wanted to be the princess waiting to be rescued. I wanted to be the one doing the rescuing.”
Roulette laughed after a moment. “You terrorized the boys in your school, didn’t you?”
“It was great,” Lisha said solemnly, then—for the first time Roulette had seen—smiled broadly. In an instant she transformed from handsome in a severe way to why didn’t I notice you were beautiful.
“So.” The raccoon blinked rapidly, hoping her unexpected blush hadn’t visibly reached her ears. “You’re not married, either?”
If the vixen noticed Roulette’s flush, she gave no sign. “There was someone back in Raneadhros, once, but when I applied for the transfer to Achoren, we broke things off. And here…” She shook her head once. “I don’t know. Maybe some people are meant to be single.”
Roulette shifted in her seat, whiskers flicking. “I’m sure you’ll find someone. You’re smart, tough and very pretty.”
“Not like you,” Lisha said, smiling again and shaking her head. “I should go see if I can dig up anything more on what Grayson had planned. His being in town to bring bottles of herani to Massey just a couple days before an opposition rally is not a coincidence. Have you written down anything about last night?”
“No.”
“Do it tonight, then, before the memory fades. I know that you don’t think it will, but it will. Try to picture the room—describe it like you’re standing in the center and turning slowly. And think about all the smells. All the sounds, too.”
Roulette nodded. “I will.”
Lisha stood up, picking up her empty plate, then hesitated. After several seconds, she said, “Thank you for coming over to talk with me.”
The raccoon smiled up. “You’re welcome. I enjoyed it.”
Lisha hesitated again a moment, then strode off.
Roulette leaned back and ran a hand through her hair, then grinned a small grin to herself. If the vixen would just let herself smile more often, she’d be married within a month.
The next morning Roulette didn’t feel like she’d ever quite made it to sleep. When she closed her eyes she saw Mr. Blue’s face—sometimes the way it looked just before he attacked her, sometimes the way it looked just after she’d attacked him. More than once she’d settled into the start of sleep, only to snap her eyes open at nightmares whose images quickly faded to a murky sense of omnipresent danger.
Judging by the light—and the calls of the birds in the rafters—she’d woken up just after sunrise. She made her way to the cafeteria to see what their breakfast would be like.
Only three other people were there. The two she didn’t recognize looked like they must be clients, not staff; the other one, surprisingly, was Lisha, sitting alone in the corner with no food but a cup of coffee. “Good
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