Ever since the proclamations went up around town, it seemed as if we Academy students had suddenly become celebrities. From the doorway of his cobbler's shop, Gunter Barneysen raised his hand in salute, while across the street, at the tinker's, Stella Petersyn called out a greeting. I saw Mrs. Cordelia and a friend sauntering by, chatting as they walked. I recognized her from Academy Gatherings, so I judged her to be the parent of a student. They paused to nod at me as they passed, but no sooner had we broken eye contact than I heard the companion say, "A pity about the Friedlans, wouldn't you say?"
"Indeed," Mrs. Cordelia sniffed. "I must say, I'm not going to miss that man's greasy smile or the way he would shake your hand and try to sell you something as soon as look at you. I'm just surprised that they're leaving on the same day as a Gathering--Olm would never miss a prime opportunity to expand his business!"
I stopped in my tracks. Matthias' family was leaving Mirrorvale? I paused to inspect the collection of hardy gourds on display outside the grocer's storefront, to make it less obvious that I was listening in.
"I hear," mused the nosy friend, "that they wanted to get across the Pass now, while it's clear."
"Of course, Menatia, it's only sensible! But I've heard," Mrs. Cordelia remarked, not to be outdone in the gossip department, "that they're bringing someone with them--a Certain Someone who might be a significant factor in young Matthias' future."
Menatia gasped, and I almost fell over. My knees trembled and I quickly ducked around the corner, regretting my choice to stay back and listen, and yet desperate to hear what might come next.
"Well!" Menatia recovered her composure, and sounded more enthusiastic than I expected she would. "I can think of more than a few girls who would be very disappointed to hear that!"
"Oh, you know Olm Friedlan wouldn't want his son and heir to bother with any of them," Cordelia scoffed. "Not when there's prestige to be had--as a Court Financier in Gramble City!"
"Oh Cordelia!" The two women giggled conspiratorially to themselves, and I gave up listening in to their gossip.
They couldn't leave! They wouldn't! Matthias' absence in Calligraphy today returned to my mind, and the way Sheranne talked about the convoy being late because the Pass was blocked--that sly mouse! She probably wasn't thinking about the convoy at all!
I pulled myself up short as I entered the residential area, a thick wind blowing around me and smelling of snow.
"Come now, Callista," I muttered, burying my face in the folds of my cloak. "Be rational about this--there's at least one way you can confirm what these ladies are saying. They spoke only rumors and speculation. You, of all people, know better than that!" I squared my shoulders and marched toward the third loop, where the Friedlan's kept a house. I had been there often enough as a young girl, looking to invite Matthias to play with Terra and me.
The sight of it now made my insides freeze up, as cold as the biting wind on my cheeks.
There was a red flag in the front yard, and a wagon loaded with large furniture waiting beside the house. Red meant Vacant. They were moving, after all.
I stomped back out of the loop and toward mine. "Don't let it get to you so, Callista!" I muttered to myself. "Matthias never belonged to you, he's a free agent, free to fall in love with anyone he chooses--and so are you! He means nothing to you!"
I stopped halfway down the lane and took advantage of the howling wind to do a bit of howling, myself.
"ARGH!!" I screamed, letting Nature carry my voice away. "He does mean something!" I felt something heavy in the pocket of my cloak as it flapped, and reached in to pull out the two pens--one I had earned by my skill in class, and the other was freely given. The second one I held in my hand a little longer, feeling the twisting and churning inside myself. "He means a whole lot," I whispered. Tears itched at the back of my eyes, but I took a deep, calming breath and held it until I could calm down. If I walked into the house with a blotchy face, Mother would definitely notice and I would definitely get a very serious talking-to if my parents knew that their daughter was pining after "some boy"!
Mother was pacing frantically in the front room, and she came flying at me as soon as I walked in the door. The warmth of the house made my skin tingle and my joints ache as I acclimated to the change in temperature.
"Oh, Callista!" She sighed. "It took you long enough to get home--it's after sundown and we still need to get you ready for tonight's Gathering! Come with me." She didn't wait for a response, but dragged me over to my bedroom.
"Now, I know you didn't have anything in your wardrobe that you haven't worn before," she was saying, "so I took the liberty of selecting one of my dresses, an old one I wore once for a Greyfrost Gathering a few fourseasons back--we're almost the same size, so it will no doubt fit you."
The dress in question was a wine-colored velvet, with long sleeves and a lace collar of the same color. I rolled my eyes. Mother's enthusiasm always increased when it came to these Gatherings--for a village that wasn't given much to celebrating or being extravagant in any way, these singular events happened rarely enough--and most of the time she had no one and nothing to vent all of her fussing on besides me. I tried my typical, practical approach. "Mother, there is nothing wrong with the dress I'm wearing right now--"
She cut me off with a wave of her hand. "Nonsense! You've already worn that. Please, Callista--" she blinked at me and held the shimmering dress out toward me. "This could very well be your last Gathering in Mirrorvale, could you humor me just this once?"
Her eyes were so pleading, it was hard to refuse. "Oh, very well, Mother."
"Thank you, darling!"
By the time the bell rang to summon everyone to the Gathering, I was walking across the frozen ground feeling more primped and painted than I had ever been in my life. Mother had given me silver cameo earrings to go with the dress, and twisted my hair up into a whorl at the back of my head, affixed with a comb that blended into the color. I had attempted to refuse her offer of face-paints--but even that didn't last very long, and she at least convinced me to cover over the minor "blemishes" to smooth my skin, and color my cheeks and lips with rouge.
We entered the Great Hall beside the Council Building, and to my chagrin, I didn't see a whole lot of activity happening. The room was ablaze with evergreen and sprigs of holly and poinsettia, plenty of candles and chandeliers to lend a festive air, but it still felt cold, and empty. We were early enough that people still hung about in small groups along the edges of the festive space, murmuring softly to each other as a stately quartet played the same five pieces over and over again, if only to avoid dead and empty silence.
I saw Terra, Sheranne, Feyton, and a few other fellow Academy students–but no Matthias. My anticipation deflated only slightly. Not that I needed him to function, but I could have used attention from someone with his kind of history, besides Terra who absolutely thrived on connecting with as many people and the biggest crowd possible. The conversation between Mrs. Cordelia and her friend resurfaced in my memory, and the panic set in almost as soon as I shed my cloak and crossed the threshold into the room—had the Friedlans left early, after all?
My parents soon found neighbors to socialize with, leaving me standing awkwardly near the middle of the room--I didn't want to appear as one of those guests who seem to attend social events only for the food, and yet I didn't want to loiter too near the open space for dancing, since I had no one really to dance with, so I stood equidistant between the two points, avoiding eye contact with everyone as much as possible.
A young man broke off from the rest of the students, heading right for me! I could do nothing but stand in that deep-burgundy dress, watching his measured approach while painfully aware of his intentions, yet unable to graciously avoid them.
He had thick blond curly hair that he had vainly tried to style back in a queue, and brilliant-blue eyes that crinkled when he smiled. The outfit he wore looked exactly like something Mistress Needle would try to sell to unsuspecting customers, as she was wont to do with unpopular styles that nonetheless arrived in shipments from the Factories. From shoulder to boot, he was all layers of linen, silk, and brocade, with plenty of gold buttons and embellishments. It went well with his hair, I will say, but it also made the poor lad look dreadfully uncomfortable.
He stopped right in front of me and took a low bow.
“Kameron Sardisen, at your service, ma’am.”
His voice carried strong and firm across the space between us, and his chin with the deeply-chiseled jawline jutted out slightly when he spoke.
I held out my hand for him to grasp with his stiff fingers, proving just how cold the room was. With my other hand, I held my skirts and curtseyed, replying, “Callista Rubinsyn; pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
There, we had just conducted the initial introductions, according to Madame Collette’s instructions. I hoped it meant we could go our separate ways and I could find myself a secluded corner to wait for Matthias to arrive, if he ever would, but just then, the strains of music overreaching the muted chatter heralded the start of dancing. And Kameron still held my hand.
“May I have this dance, Miss Callista?”
I glanced one last time at the foyer, hoping for Matthias to come ambling in at the last possible second to save me from having to accept--but no such luck.
“Indeed, Kameron,” I accepted only because I had nothing else I could do.
At least I was relieved to discover he was someone who paid attention during Dance class. Unlike poor Feyton, who could recite historical accounts and technical definitions by the hour, yet out on the floor he was everlastingly getting his feet and his directions mixed, crashing into other dancers and causing no end of mortification for his unfortunate partner. Kameron led me dutifully through the paces, saying not a word, but staring at me the whole time. I knew Madam Beacon and Madame Collette would both be incensed at my rudeness, but I had to look away, look up, look over, look down--anywhere except at those unnerving blue eyes!
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