Sarina Makes a Wish

Today’s post is a snippet from the next book in the Bedroom Eyes series: Hidden Love. It’s a novella, very loosely based on the Elves and the Shoemaker fairy tale. Sarina is a poor cousin, consigned to work for her room and board, even if those accommodations happen to be a cold cottage tucked into the woods.

A pounding sounded at the main door. Startled, Sarina shoved the needle through the wrong section of linen and poked herself.
“Ow.” She stared at the mistake. It would require teasing the thread back out of the fabric. She sucked on her finger as she answered the door. A footman from the hall bowed before her, holding out a note. Aunt Hypatia had addressed it to ‘Sadie Gibbins.’ Sarina bit her tongue at the nickname her aunt labeled her with. One I’ve never used. The note hadn’t been sealed.
“Thank you.” She began to close the door.
“Madam asks for a reply.”
She scanned the note, gave an answer, and shut out the cold. Then she rushed back to the pot on the trivet to stir her porridge. The wooden spoon scraped against a burned section, and she ground her molars. Porridge needed constant monitoring; Aunt Hypatia can even ruin my breakfast.
Once she finished cooking, she piled the remaining embers together for their next use. No matter the season, the stone cottage remained cold. For a short period in summer she had not needed it to warm her feet in the mornings, but most days she appreciated the hearth’s warmth. Sarina gulped down the burnt porridge, then set the pot to soaking.
Aunt Hypatia was her tormentor. Being invited to tea throws off my estimates for today. Sarina had carefully calculated the time she needed to finish this mending.
“Why couldn’t it be dinner!” she fumed as she settled into her chair and tugged at the curtain. It would be a fair day. She cracked open the tiny window and unlatched the shutters to let in light and a breeze. But I’ve never been invited to dinner.
With her aunt’s demand that she appear, Sarina barely had time to finish the mending before setting out on the two hour hike to West Trotter and back—plus, she now needed to factor in time to dress for tea. She couldn’t appear at the big hall after tromping around the countryside without changing clothes. Not without a scold.
Sarina paused to look at the needle in her right hand and the thimble on her left, and made a silent wish for help.

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