Have you seen her yet?"

Harriet gave me an intense stare, her unkempt bun tilting off to the side

"Who?" I returned with the same air of secrecy while rearranging my cutlery.

Prudence Wellings, the handsome brown skinned maid, set a bowl of water and floating logs of vegetables before me. She gave me an apologetic frown.

My smile was reassuring. "It's alright Prue, thank you."

She hesitated a minute, then offered a quick bow before disappearing down one of the lengthy corridors. The group watched me expectantly.

"Well?" Harriet pressed.

I thought for a minute. "It doesn't look very appetising, which means Mrs. Goods, who's true gift lies in the art of baking rather than the making of a savoury stew, once again attempted boiling turnips. And the bread," I gave it a couple raps with my fork which made an echoing thwack, thwack, thwack! "undoubtedly burnt by Ms. Laggsby who surpasses the head cook in preparing an edible stew." I spread a napkin across my lap. "Need I say more?"

"We're not talking about that!" one of the others said. I stared at her.

"Pardon me, but what are we talking about then?"

The four in my company groaned in unison.

Harriet, the most agreeable of the bunch, leaned forward, her breath causing the peas and carrots to swirl around the iron spoon in my bowl.

"Remember the girl everyone was talking about? The one we were expecting from Leers?"

I nodded.

She looked over her shoulder then dropped her voice to a whisper.

"She's here."

"Is that so?" I clapped my hands. "How splendid! And here I was worried I shouldn't meet her before I left for Olivington in the morning. I daresay, things have a way of turning in my favour!" I pulled the thin gold chain from my wrist and began polishing it with my handkerchief.

"She isn't what we were expecting." Harriet sounded bewildered.

I laughed.

"As true as Gordorf stands, I should hope she isn't! You girls are overly dramatic and at times, highly improper. I have lost all hope in ever getting you dears conformed to proper breeding. And that is a disappointment."

I swirled the contents of my bowl.

"It appears I am only useful for entertaining with plum cakes and raisins, or pretty gifts and party invitations... But perhaps all that will change now that there's a new lamb in need of a good shepherd," I said, changing my tone to a more agreeable one. "Imagine it girls: I, Malia Malstoyke turning our currently unknown lamb into a fine, well accomplished and respectable maiden of Gordorfian society—my greatest deed yet!"

I smiled to myself and with a decisive nod, "Yes, I shall pay my respects accordingly."

Harriet caught my wrist.

"You can't simply go over and make an introduction for yourself, Lia. It isn't proper."

I smiled and raised a brow.

"Proper, eh? And this coming from the one who spent an entire evening flirting with the mayor's son last spring?"

She turned a bright pink and lowered her head.

I patted her hand.

"But you never mind that, I've an idea and one knows once I've gotten something into my head there's no doing away with it until it's settled."

Ammie Goldwolfer, a petite creature with thick, sunset orange hair, scowled at me.

"You were always one for projects, Malstoyke, but this is a more serious matter. The new girl is an outsider."

"Come now," I said, surprised by her fierceness," she's only just arrived and you all seem so determined to think ill of her." I looked from one to the other. "What has she done to make you so hostile?"

Ammie let out an impatient breath and muttered, "I told you she wouldn't understand." Harriet, ignoring her friend, toyed with her glass while the others exchanged looks.

"Clearly you girls have forgotten I am not one to think ill of a person I know nothing about. Besides," I said, smiling brightly, "she may have quite a history that would make her a colourful addition to Bedlaam. And one knows that colour adds depth and excitement to our little town. With proper guidance, I'm sure she will be admirable to all—and it isn't everyday I meet someone outside Gordorf or Olivington."

Harriet squeezed my hand nervously. "You'd do best not to affiliate yourself with her, Lia. She comes from an ugly place."

I stared at her. "Gordorf's grievance, Harriet, they're just old tales!" I gave her a maternal pat. "Those were stories to frighten us as children and she's done nothing in her short time here to cause anyone to believe them."

Ammie rose from the bench.

"It's not what she's done, Malstoyke, it's what she is," and picking up her tray, she left us without a backward glance. I watched as she moved across the room and sat amongst the younger girls with a toss of her carrot stained head.

"She was always a dramatic one, wasn't she?"

The others only shook their heads.

I returned my attention to the untouched soup and, almost mechanically, began disposing the spongy vegetables down my throat until the dish was empty. It wasn't everyday I found myself in perplexing situations like this, and I frowned at the bread which was like burned leather on my tongue. I pushed it away.

"Not everyone can have the higher things in life," Papa had said once, "but everyone has something another must daily go without." Remembering this, I softened my feelings towards the burnt loaf.

The girls chatted on, oblivious to my faraway mind.

"She'll be the talk of society, that's for sure," someone was saying. "There's no way she can escape it."

"I agree." Then to me, "Have you seen her eyes?"

"They're hideous," one of the others put in. "Like piercing orbs of fire that burns through your soul."

"Quite unnatural, I'd say."

Harriet shuddered. "I have never been so shaken by someone's gaze. I swear, it was as if she could hear my thoughts, like she could see straight through me. There was something disturbingly eerie about it all..."

"And she was as dirty as a pigsty," another stressed.

"And wet."

"Not to mention her awful dress. Clearly she's of low standing with an appearance like that."

"A poor, sodden commoner of the farther lands, I reckon."

"A peasant, more or less."

They giggled unceremoniously while I feigned a smile of amusement.

I scanned the other familiar faces in the room, all distant, and evenly spread along the rectangular benches, focused more on conversation than their meal.

"Where is she?" I asked my audience. "Does she not wish to sup with us?"

Harriet gave me a funny look.

"Mrs. Ivanhallow took her away to see to the bedding arrangements." She tugged at the napkin in her hands. "I hope she doesn't have to share my room. That would be a nightmare. I cannot bear the look of her eyes."

"You have nothing to worry about," someone said. "They've given her the room at the very top, the one with the window overlooking the woods."

"And why would they settle her there?" I said with a frown. "It's the worst room here, and it being so cold and damp, I imagine someone would catch their death in it within a fortnight!"

Harriet plucked at her pearls. "It isn't as bad as that, Lia. It is best that she keeps away from the rest of us. I've heard a lot about spell casters and such things from where she comes from."

"Nonsense!" I said with obvious irritation.

One of the others waved her hand.

"Calm down, Lia, they've lit a fire-at least I think they did. Ellen said that Janie said that Phoebe said she heard Ms. Petruny send Violet and Marge for firewood earlier. I imagine it was for the room upstairs—it's the only one it could've been gotten for."

"May I ask," I began carefully, "what makes you all so prejudiced against her? She has only been here a few hours, if I am not mistaken and yet she has already managed to make herself disagreeable. Has she done something horrid?"

Harriet opened her mouth to speak but froze, her gaze transfixed on something over my shoulder. A dead silence encased the room as the idle chatter of its occupants ceased as if some unseen ghost robbed them of their voices. Even the clanking of iron against porcelain died away in an instant. I looked over my shoulder, vaguely excited at the effect this intruder had upon the gabbing occupants of our humble abode.

And there she was!

She stood at the foot of the low-lying stone steps surveying the nine heads scattered along the benches of the hall. Slowly, almost ceremoniously, she proceeded down the aisle, her disheveled hair creating a mantle over her face while her thick soled boots squished loudly against the stone floors. The girls all turned away, lowered their gazes, or discretely spread her skirt on either side of her so that the stranger went on past the rows of heads. Looking neither left nor right, she reached the back of the room and sat down unceremoniously upon the cold stone, ladling a tray of soup and bread on her knees. After another minute of silence, talk and the clicking of utensils resumed, uncertainly at first, then to its normal volume almost as if nothing had happened.

My quick eyes scanned the patched gray dress with its full billowing sleeves and weather beaten boots that glistened with remnants of the outdoors. She stared gloomily at her tray before raising her head and meeting my gaze.

For a moment all I could do was stare. Her eyes were like pure gold! A chill ran over me and an inexplicable shudder shook my body. With a strong effort, I tore my eyes away, scolding myself for being so rude.

"Queer one, isn't she?"

I looked into a perfectly round face with a generous application of rouge to the lips. Susan Hunchet seated herself beside me with a toss of her golden bangs and a flutter of her lashes. She placed her hands primly in her lap.

"You should have witnessed her when she came," she said, wrinkling her nose. "Clothed in rags fit for a peasant, all wet from the rain, and have you ever seen so many patches on a dress? And to think she had family!"

She shook her golden head.

"It's clear they were dirt poor. And here I thought my misfortunes were heavier than anyone else's." She threw her hand across her forehead. "What a shame to know I was wrong!"

"It is good to see you too," I said dryly.

She rolled her eyes.

"You missed Ivanhallow's speech. Apparently, we are all expected to make the outsider feel welcome. Of course everyone only said 'Yes, Mrs. Ivanhallow' because it's what she wanted to hear."

"And because Ms. Petruny would've gladly pounded us to jelly if we hadn't," added Harriet.

"I'll be damned if I associate with the likes of her," Susan went on carelessly. "Anyone from those cursed mountains is bound to be an ill omen."

Harriet smacked her hand. "Susan!"

"Dear god, she's looking this way!" one of the others whispered.

"Don't look, Lia!" Harriet scolded me.

"Think she can hear us?" said a nervous voice.

"Couldn't have. She's too far, right? And if she did, t'was Susan's slippery tongue, not mine!"

I brought my handkerchief to my mouth to hide a snicker. Harriet narrowed her eyes at my feeble attempts.

"Go on and laugh if you please, we all know it is your way."

"You mustn't be cross at her, Harriet," someone said in a patronising tone. "A person of her breeding couldn't possibly understand what all this means."

That struck a chord. "My breeding?" I repeated with an annoyance that immediately boiled to anger. "You say it as though I were some untamed pup!"

The girl flushed and stammered for something to say. She quickly excused herself from our company and hurried out of the dining hall.

Susan laughed. "No one can bear to make you cross, darling. And I don't blame them. Without your pretty face and fine gifts, this place would be as lonely and dark as an Egyptian tomb!"

"How touching," I said under my breath.

She giggled.

I inhaled deeply, then turned to the others. "You said something about 'the mountains', I believe?"

Susan, always beaming when the centre of attention, straightened herself, and adopting proud air, began in an animated way, "Yes, the mountains, my dear girl, the mountains beyond. You know what they say about that place." She paused dramatically, taking a moment to play with her curls.

Her eyes met mine with a childish gleam.

"Overrun with wizards and witches, bandits, muggers, kidnappings, brothels, mediums, gambling houses-all the good stuff one finds in books."

"Dreadful," Harriet whispered.

"There are a good many other things I've forgotten, but," she spread her hands, "it shouldn't be too hard for you to fill in the empty spaces."

"Intriguing," I said thoughtfully. I glanced back at the stranger who was watching me with her powerful eyes. I nodded to her and a look of surprise overcame her features. Her eyes brightened in a flash before she averted them. I stared stupidly, unable to comprehend what I just saw.

A commotion from the passageway erupted, and in mere seconds, a black ball of fur whipped by us followed by a tall girl with angry black eyes. A small, freckled faced girl clung to her skirt ribbons screaming passionately.

"Leave him alone, Marge, he didn't mean to do it!"

"I told you the next time he tore anything of mine I'd skin him. And skin him I will!"

{Cover design by my sister who refuses to be named}🙄