"Don't you worry now, it will all grow back in no time," Everett said with fake-cheer, even though Sable could still see the worried strain on her face. "We did tell you last night. We wouldn't have done it if we'd had any way around it."
...And, Sable belatedly realized that Everett was, bizarrely, worried that she would be upset at her.
About her hair, of all things.
"It's – it's all right," Sable said quietly. "I remember you saying you would cut it last night."
Everett blinked at her. "Truly? You remember?"
"Yes."
She almost sagged in relief. "Oh...that's good. You were so out of it that we doubted you had heard anything we said."
"...I don't remember every word you said," replied Sable tentatively. "But I remember you telling me you had to cut my hair, and that I said yes."
"Oh...That's good, Lady Sable. Still...I'm sorry it had to be done. It will grow back soon, Lady Sable."
And that uncomfortable title sparked another memory.
"Could you –" Sable swallowed. "Could you just call me Sable, please? You had asked if you could last night and... I don't know why you're calling me Lady."
"Oh." Everett seemed to gather herself from her fretting until she looked more like the assured person she had last night. "I'm glad you remember that too. So, I definitely have your permission to call you Sable?"
Sable nodded.
"Thank you, dear," she smiled. "But outside this room, I have to call you Lady Sable. That's your rightful title."
Sable blinked, a million versions of refusals slipping in and out of her head, replaced by a million questions instead.
"You likely have questions," said Everett next, dragging a chair near to the bed and taking a seat. "Let's hear them. Giving you answers is what I'm here for."
Sable blinked again.
Everett wasn't threatening, which was a very novel experience for her. But while Sable did have a number of questions, she truly didn't know where to begin...
"How about I offer some questions, then? If it's something you don't know, I'll explain. And we can follow up from there?"
Sable nodded, noting that she was – dangerously – really, really starting to like this woman. She reminded her so much of Ivy with the way she treated her... And she really was making this easy for her, which was a new experience on its own.
YOU ARE READING
The Tributes (Sable)
FantasyEvery couple of years, a girl from each village, town, and city in the kingdom is sent to the palace of the Black Queen as a tribute. And this time, twelve-year-old Sable is the one to go from her village. Sable can't say she's ever been particularl...
