I stretch and shift my legs to hang over the side of the mattress, then begin working at the laces of my boots. “I was tired. You know, from securing our great victory?”
Amelie floats to my dressing table and stares at her reflection in the mirror that hangs above it, prodding at her brows and cheeks. “That explains why I didn’t see you at the plaza. When Mother and I left to hear the announcement, your boots weren’t by the front door. We figured you’d already left.”
I kick off one of my boots and begin unlacing the next, still puzzling over how deeply I slept last night. I don’t think I’ve ever slept so well in my life. Relief will do that to a girl, I suppose. “Did I miss anything? Aside from the announcement itself, I mean?”
Amelie whirls toward me, grinning. “You should have seen the look on Mrs. Holstrom’s face when Theresa and Maryanne’s names were called. She almost fainted!”
A pinch of guilt tugs my chest. Would our mother have fainted if she’d heard our names? But the sinking feeling evaporates before it can take hold. I’m still too grateful it wasn’t us. “Fainted? That must have been a sight.”
“Almost fainted. She did cry. A lot. The girls have already been taken beyond the wall. You should have seen the coach that came for them! Gold and pearl with dark, lustrous wood.”
I stand and cross the cold floor to my window. “They’ve already been taken to Faerwyvae? What time is it?”
“It’s almost noon.” I meet Amelie’s gaze and she frowns at my hair. She pats the chair at my dressing table. “Come. You look like a dead bird.”
I should be offended, but I’m used to my sister finding fault in my appearance. She’s always been the pretty one, the silly one, and the one most beloved by all the folk in our village. There’s a reason she was out with a man last night while I was alone in the woods. She likes company and men and friends. I like practicality. And sleep.
I take a seat and Amelie stands behind me, immediately worrying at the knot in my hair that once was a braid. In the mirror, the contrast between us is stark. My sister is all copper hair, bright green eyes, pale peachy skin, and a smile that remains even when she’s frowning—which she’s doing now at my hair.
I, on the other hand, am a more subdued version of the girl behind me. My hair is a dark auburn that only looks remotely copper in direct sunlight, my eyes are a dull blue instead of green, my skin is far too bland to be considered peachy, and too dark to be considered fair. Then there’s my smile. Let’s just say the women in the village call it a perpetual pout when they’re trying to be honest about my looks without being insulting. I do appreciate how sultry my perpetual pout makes me sound, but I know the truth of it. I look like I’m angry. All the time.
Once Amelie has finished undoing my braid, she sets to brushing out my tangles, a task that earns me a deeper frown from my sister. I smile. No matter how futile, she never gives up trying to make me presentable. “How was your date last night?”
I catch her eye-roll in the mirror. “It can hardly be called a date. It was nothing more than batting my lashes at Bertrand from across the parlor while stuck in awful chatter with his boring sisters for three hours straight.” She pauses, then smiles. “We did kiss behind the stables before I left though. I thought we were going to be caught when his driver came looking for us. Thank the Great Mother Bertrand’s fingers are like sausages, or he’d surely have had me out of my corset by then.”
“Will you be seeing him again? Now that you know you’re a free woman?”
“Why would I? I’m seeing Magnus tonight.”
I furrow my brow. “Magnus?”
“Magnus Merriweather.” She pauses her brushing, eyes going wide as she meets mine in the mirror. “I haven’t told you, have I? That’s the best part! After the announcement, Magnus invited me to dinner. Through his cousin, Annabel, of course. But I saw the way he looked at me from across the plaza. He and Theresa Holstrom were practically engaged. Now that she’s…well, you know…he has to marry me!”
“Has to?”
“Well, Theresa was obviously his first choice, but I’ve always known I was a close second.”
“And you’re happy about that?”
Amelie’s smile grows radiant as she returns to brushing my hair. “Magnus is the most handsome man in Sableton. Maybe all of Eisleigh, though I haven’t traveled the Isle much, as you well know. But I can’t imagine a man more dignified than he. And now he’s stuck with me. I couldn’t feel luckier, Evie.”
I try my best to suppress my laugh. Despite Amelie being what I very much define as a silly person, I never go out of my way to make fun of her. She may be two years older, but she’s more fragile than I am, like a tiny violet in a patch of weeds. That fragility was almost the death of her once. I’ll never forget what it felt like to think I was going to lose her, and I’ve been fiercely protective of her ever since.
“We’re both free women now,” Amelie says, shaking me from my thoughts as she pins my fully brushed hair into a low chignon the way I like. She’s given up trying to get me to wear my hair down like hers. “How are you going to celebrate?”
My eyes fall on the stack of books on my dressing table. All are either human anatomy or medical guides, to aid my studies as a surgeon’s apprentice. Hidden beneath the stack of books is a letter. A letter I’ve read and reread a dozen times or more since receiving it last month. I’ve been waiting to respond to it until this very day—the day I can declare my absolute freedom.
I feel my cheeks flush before the words are out of my mouth. Not with shame. With excitement. “I’m going to mainland Bretton. To medical school. I’m going to become a real surgeon.”
Amelie’s eyes go wide as if I’ve just told her I plan on exchanging my head for a new one. “The mainland? You’re leaving the isle?”
My heart drops at the hurt in her tone. It was always my plan to leave the Fair Isle after the Reaping. I would have left already if it would have been allowed. According to the treaty, all young women who would come of age during the Reaping are forbidden to marry or leave the isle three years prior. You can only imagine the influx of weddings and moves to the mainland that took place three years ago. I was livid Mother wouldn’t comply with my wishes and leave with us immediately. Amelie was furious she was forbidden to marry at age seventeen. But mother was fixed on staying in Eisleigh, convinced our offerings would keep us safe. I understand the fae, she would say. We will not be driven from our home or forced into rash behavior. We’ll work with them. You’ll be safe, I promise.
Mother was right. We’re free from the Reaping once and for all. Now I can do what I’ve always wanted to do. “I’ll still visit you and Mother.”
Amelie forces a smile, but I can tell she’s hurt. “When will you go?”
“I’ve been invited to join the fall quarter at Bennings University of Medical Arts. It begins at the end of the month.”
My sister sighs, pinning the last strand of hair in place. She steps back, admiring her work, then places a hand on my shoulder. “You’ll see me get married at least, right?”