Renna lay on her side, propping her head up with her hand. “It’s been rough at the Government Center. It seems like no matter what I do, I can’t please anybody, especially Mom.” Renna’s voice got quiet again. “I wish you were here. You would know what to say or do.”
The leaves clapped against each other in the breeze. Time slowed as Renna stared at her father’s headstone. She had longed for moments like this, moments where she could lay beside him and feel content. The sun broke through a cloud and touched her face, warming her soul, and suddenly her father was there with her.
Renna didn’t know how long she rested there with him, but too soon, it was time to go. She kissed the tips of her fingers, pressing them against his headstone. “Love you, Dad.”
She stood up and brushed off the clumps of grass and dirt that clung to her damp clothes and left the sanctuary of the meadow, promising to return again tomorrow.
The farmhouse came into view as Renna began her trek down the steep hill. Orange sun rays scattered across the skyline, colliding with miles of open fields. It was hard to imagine this land as anything other than farmland. She had been told by her father that it was once covered with roads, buildings, and homes. Growing up, she’d found pieces and artifacts of what used to exist there, before Desolation happened. There were even a few structural remains left, where concrete foundations jutted out of the ground, but grass and weeds covered them now as if the earth had simply adopted them as her own.
She ran toward the stone house, wishing she could stay at Wellenbreck Farm, but tomorrow they would continue to the kingdom of Albion. Outside the house, soldiers worked to set up tents. There wasn’t enough room inside for the entire caravan. Soldiers and maids needed to sleep outside.
Renna accidentally slammed the back door behind her, her eyes adjusting to the dimly lit kitchen when she suddenly realized she wasn’t alone.
“Nice outfit,” Jenica sneered, making the other girls surrounding the kitchen table look up at her and snicker. Renna sighed. She still didn’t understand why Seran’s friends were part of the caravan to Albion, but apparently, Seran needed to have her support group with her at all times. So here they were.
At least they had ridden in a separate transporter. Renna wasn’t sure she could handle a week of travel confined in a small space with them. Airplanes would have made the journey so much faster, but those had been deemed unessential from the very first Council.
“Thanks.” Renna smiled at Jenica. “I found it in your closet.” She sauntered into the room and opened a few cupboards, looking for something to eat.
“I think everyone knows I would never be caught dead with a pair of pants in my closet. Especially colorless ones.”
Renna rolled her eyes. “You should try pants sometime. They’re comfortable.” Finding a bushel of grapes in one of the cupboards, she plopped a few into her mouth and leaned back against the kitchen counter to face the girls. Everything about them in Wellenbreck, in her kitchen, felt wrong.
Jenica’s light blue eyes glared back at her. “Why can’t you be civilized for once? Women don’t wear pants.”
“They wore pants before Desolation,” Sheridan chimed in. She was a bit of a know-it-all, always ready with information.
“That’s probably one of the reasons civilization got destroyed—ridiculous clothing choices.” Jenica’s attention went back to the small bottles of colorful liquid laid out between them. She leaned her head down over her hand, forming a pile of straight blonde hair on the table. Slowly she painted the red liquid over her fingernails.
“Where did you get that paint?” Renna asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.
“It’s called nail polish,” Sheridan replied, not even looking up from painting Lizanne’s nails.
“My mom got it from the under-counter market,” Jenica bragged.
“So, it’s not essential?” Renna asked.
“Of course it’s essential!” Jenica sneered. “My hands need it. Besides,” she paused to blow on the wet polish covering her nails, “the next Council of Essentials is in January, and my father promised to lobby for nail polish. I’m sure it will be approved.”
Of course Jenica believed she had that kind of power over the Council of Essentials. Had she forgotten that during the rebuild two hundred years ago resources had been scarce? The seven leaders couldn’t just deem something like nail polish essential because their hands needed it. Renna had a hard time believing nail polish would ever be deemed essential to survival, but lately, the Council seemed to approve luxuries for the ruling class that weren’t essential at all.
It was a strange sight—a group of women who had nothing better to do than paint their nails. Most girls their age had to work. That used to be Renna’s life. She had spent exhausting days beside her father in the fields. Now, as a member of the ruling class, she had nothing to do. Guilt spread through her like fire. She hated how unfair it was—how some people lived lives of luxury while others worked hard to survive. Something was wrong with the Council of Essentials, and nobody seemed to care.
Lizanne spoke up. She hardly ever spoke, so Renna liked her best, and she had the most amazing red hair that lit up against her pale skin. “I can’t believe you grew up here. It’s in the middle of nowhere.”
“I like the seclusion,” Renna replied. “It’s peaceful. But really it’s not that isolated. Vassel is only thirty miles north of here.”
Jenica looked around at the house. “This explains a lot about why you act the way you do. You don’t know any better.” She was a master at making her words sound kind while insulting a person at the same time.
Renna pushed away from the counter. She’d had enough girl talk for one afternoon. “Where are Seran and my mother?”
Sheridan pointed upstairs. “Seran is napping, and your mother is in the front room, I believe.”
Renna headed toward the narrow stairs at the back of the kitchen. Better to change before her mother saw her in pants.
On her way up, she almost bumped into a plump body coming out of the bathroom.
“Nellie!” Renna grabbed the woman into a tight hug. Nellie’s head landed just below her chin. There had been a time when the two of them had been the same height, but that was when Renna was thirteen. “I’ve missed you so much!”
Nellie pulled back, looking around. “Shhhh, child. There is royalty sleeping in this house.”
Renna grimaced, as she followed Nellie into her old room and shut the door behind them, surveying the room. It seemed smaller than she remembered, especially the bed. Besides the size, the most significant difference was how colorless everything was—the curtains, bedding, and walls—they were all muted in grays and creams, a stark contrast to the colorful world at the Government Center.
Nellie spun around to look at Renna and put her hands on her hips. “Child, I have been waiting all afternoon to see how fancy you’ve become in the last four years in your colored clothing, and look at you. You’re dressed like Preetis!”
Renna smiled. “I may have borrowed your husband’s clothes to go swimming.”
Nellie let a laugh escape as she shook her head. Her brown hair was slicked into a bun, a cream apron pulled tight around her chest. She looked exactly like Renna remembered.