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Midnight Soul (Fantasyland #5) Page 46
Author: Kristen Ashley

This being turning my head and tipping it back.

Once that was done and I’d caught Noc’s gaze, I did my last.

Slowly, and with great delight I did not hide, I smiled.

Huge.

* * * * *

“Master Noc broke his fingers?” Josette asked incredulously.

“At least three of them,” I informed her.

She stared at me a moment looking horrified but this dissolved as her body started shaking and then a loud giggle erupted from her mouth.

I felt my lips curling up.

When she controlled her mirth, she mumbled, “I wish I was there.”

“I do as well,” I replied.

I ignored her blinking at me in shock, having decided over the past days when I did something kind that Josette found unexpected and she showed her surprise, she’d eventually get used to it.

For I had found that guarding myself from this variety of camaraderie, sharing moments and news and snippets of life, and even feelings with the woman with whom I spent most of my time, was not only draining and tiresome, but also unnecessary.

Josette had not a cruel bone in her body. She’d remained steadfast to me even when I wasn’t as I’d begun to be.

She was now blossoming under my warm regard.

And I found witnessing it most pleasant.

Thus it was late afternoon and we were now sharing prior to her assisting me in my preparations to attend another dinner with the queen and the others.

“Now, tell me, how goes your search for a new maid?” I asked.

She settled her behind deeper in the chair opposite me and stated, “I’ve narrowed it down to three, Lady Franka. They all seem quite capable, have much experience, excellent references, good dispositions and are keen to go on an adventure by crossing the Green Sea.”

At her words, I frowned.

I’d found of late (that “of late” being the last several days) that the “Lady Franka” business, something of which I hadn’t thought of in the slightest in the past, was grating.

I was, of course, a lady.

Josette reminding me of it every time she spoke my name was superfluous.

I didn’t call her “Maid Josette.” The very idea was ludicrous.

“Josette, if you please,” I said on a sweep of my hand in front of me, “I’m tiring of ‘Lady Franka.’”

“I…well,” her expression turned perplexed, “what, milady?”

“That too,” I replied. “‘Milady.’ Of course when we’re in company, you’ll need to continue to address me thus. But when we’re on our own, I see no reason for you to consistently utter my title. Franka will do.”

She said nothing, likely because her mouth had dropped open and her stare had become vacant.

“Is this something that offends you?” I asked when her look persisted, as did her silence.

She snapped her mouth closed, opened it, closed it and finally got down to it.

“As you know, my, uh…well, as you know, no other maid I know addresses her lady that way. It just isn’t done.”

“I’m not just any lady and you are definitely not just another maid. If the Winter Princess herself knew of your talents, she’d try to steal you from me.”

A blush of pleasure pinkened her cheeks as she said, “I’d never leave you.”

I tipped up my chin. “And I know this and prize it. So let’s dispense with some of the formalities, shall we?”

“I…all right,” she agreed, a tentative smile forming on her face.

“Excellent,” I murmured. “Now that’s done, I’ll meet your final candidates tomorrow. Once I do, we’ll discuss them and decide. But I need to give you another task.”

“And that would be?” she asked.

“Your gowns, stockings, cloaks, boots, slippers, etc. You’ll need to visit a local clothier, cobbler and milliner as you’ll require clothing suitable for a variety of climes and a good deal of it. When we’re aboard a ship, I’m not certain there are laundry facilities, and I don’t like the idea of you donning dirty clothing because you have no spare. And please, increase the quality of the pieces you choose. You are a maid of a lady of the House of Drakkar but further, we’ve no idea what we’ll be encountering. It would be good for those who look upon us to think you’re my ward, and thus have some protection of a certain class, rather than my maid.”

“Really, Lady…I mean, Franka?” she breathed, her mouth now working, but her eyes had again gone wide.

“If I didn’t mean it, I wouldn’t say it,” I retorted.

“I would…would…would…” she finally spit it out, nearly bouncing in her seat, “adore that.”

“I change my mind,” I stated and her face fell. “We’ll go together. I want to make certain you don’t do anything frugal out of habit. Once my brother has arrived and I’ve greeted him, he’ll want to settle his family and probably rest. We’ll go out after he arrives.”

Bright-eyed again, Josette replied, “That would be most lovely, erm, Franka.”

“Indeed it would,” I agreed, regarding her thoughtfully. “With your coloring, I think greens. Perhaps pinks. You’ve excellent skin, roses and creams, pink would suit you.” I tipped my head to the side. “I do believe red would also become you, but we’ll have to see.”

She sniffled and I stopped scrutinizing her and looked in her eyes.

They were wet.

“Josette,” I chided softly. “You really cannot rush from the room under the threat of tears every time I show a kindness.”

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Kristen Ashley's Novels
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