Legacy (The Biodome Chronicles) (40 page)

A
soft clang woke Oaklee from the few hours of sleep she had received. She sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes while pulling her feet out from beneath the blankets and over the bed’s edge. Yawning, she jumped when the door opened, revealing Ember who carried a large pot, steam billowing out over her flushed face. Oaklee watched Ember pour the contents into a large copper basin in the middle of her floor.

“A bath?” Oaklee asked in a sleepy haze.

“Yes. I am giving you a good scrub this morning.” She gave Oaklee a kind smile before walking out the door. Ember returned a minute later with another large pot of hot water. “I have a pot of cold water outside to adjust the temperature. I shall return shortly.”

Oaklee stood up from her bed, walking out of her bedroom and into the lavatory. After using the composter, she returned to find Ember sprinkling lavender buds and rose petals in the water.

“I am confused, My Lady. Did you say I was receiving a scrub?”

“Yes. This is a big day for you. And please, call me Ember.”

“
My
intended is not leaving for three months. Perhaps it should be the other way around, Ember.”

“Nonsense. I am not the first person the Outside world will see inside the walls of New Eden.”

Ember arched an eyebrow at her and Oaklee’s eyes widened.

“I had not thought of that part. I am to welcome the Outsider and escort them into New Eden?” Oaklee slowly sat back on her bed.

“Leaf did not explain that part? Silly man. Yes, your role is to see a member of New Eden depart and welcome his replacement.”

“Of course. I only hope I am not an emotional catastrophe.” Oaklee gave Ember a lopsided grin.

“Are you ready?”

Oaklee stood up, and removed her nightgown and shift, feeling shy at first, and then slipped into the copper basin after Ember added enough cold water to make the temperature bearable. Women often bathed together once a week at The Waters, but Oaklee still felt unsure of herself as her body matured. Closing her eyes, she sank into the warm depths, her knees protruding awkwardly. The water felt glorious.

“Is this water from the pump well?”

“No, it is from The Waters. I wanted you to enjoy a mineral bath. Leaf heated the water more at the Great Hall before bringing the pots back.” Ember gave her a full grin, and Oaklee knew
Ember appreciated the joy Oaklee was receiving from their thoughtful gift.

“Ember, you are next. I shall not tarry long so you may enjoy the water as well.”

“I already enjoyed a soak,” Ember said with a slow blush.

“Oh, I see.” Oaklee watched the young woman, curious as to her response.

“Sit up a little more and I shall scrub your back.”

Ember placed a bar of soap in her hands, wetting it in the copper tub. Leaning forward, Oaklee felt the bar of soap on her back, followed by the hemp scrubbing rag. Ember picked up Oaklee’s limbs gently, scrubbing them as she did her back, and then handed Oaklee the bar of lavender soap and the rag, allowing her to finish up.

“Ready for your hair?”

Oaklee nodded and Ember came forward with a pitcher of warm water, dumping it over her head. She placed a bar of hair soap into
Oaklee’s hands, a special remedy from the herbalist, and then began scrubbing her scalp, lathering her hair as she did so.

“Nothing feels as grand as when someone washes your hair,” Oaklee murmured.

Ember giggled in response, continuing to scrub and to lather. Oaklee noted another pitcher of water in Ember’s hands, closing her eyes as the soapy liquid fell over her face. The smell of lavender wafted as Ember continued to pour fresh water over her head.

“You are officially clean,” Ember said in triumph. “Enjoy a few more minutes and then we shall finish with more luxury items from the herbalist.” Ember winked as she walked out the door.

Oaklee spilled her newly clean hair over the edge of the basin, and lowered herself once again into the water, enjoying the warmth of both the bath and Ember’s unexpected gesture. It had been ages since she had a private bath, and the feeling was too wonderful for words.

Relaxing, her thoughts flitted around as the aroma drugged her mind. She began to think of Fillion who mysteriously hid behind a cloak. Closing her eyes, she thought of his voice as he confessed his hope that one day she would become fond of him. The sad and gentle tones made her cast away any and all offenses, and she became perplexed with the brokenness in his request. Why lower himself before
her
? Did he not have anyone else who could give him something to hope for as he faced death? Was this the pain he carried?

She did not regret her choice in gifting him her heart. Oaklee never planned to marry, a position and declaration Leaf did not understand. And she did not cheapen herself with her gesture, despite her brother’s fear. Still, what was happening to her? She could not explain these strange feelings. It was beyond absurd, yet made perfect sense somewhere deep inside of her. Perhaps it was mere infatuation with the Outside world. She sighed mournfully, and turned her head toward her bedroom door while lost in her thoughts.

“If I did not know any better, I would think you were in love, such a look on your face,” Ember said as she walked back in.

Oaklee immediately
warmed and turned away, gathering her runaway thoughts. She was not in love. She was confused, and her empathy could not help but reach out and comfort another’s sorrow and honor another’s sacrifice.

“It is good that you know better,” Oaklee said quickly.

“Poor Coal. It is a shame he cannot see the truth.”

“What truth?”

“You two could never be together the way he wishes.”

Ember helped Oaklee out of the water, handing her a towel as she did so.

“Is there another way?” Oaklee was convinced Coal was incapable of behaving differently toward her, instead remaining obsessed with the notion of courtship.

Ember gave her a conspiratorial smile before pulling a bottle of lotion out from a basket, remaining silent on the subject. She opened up the stopper and both leaned forward to sniff the rich and intoxicating scent of lavender.

“The herbalist believes lavender suits you. I think I agree with her.”

“What does the herbalist believe suits you?” Oaklee said, giving her a playful smile.

“Cinnamon and clove.” Ember blushed again secretively, before pulling on Oaklee’s hand, placing lotion on her palm. “I shall apply the lotion on your back and shoulders. You work on your arms and torso.”

Ember placed a dollop of the lotion into her hand, and rubbed it into Oaklee’s back like an older sister, as if she was preparing her for a wedding. This made her heart still, and she turned around to peer at Ember curiously.

“There is something going on. The only time a woman has treatments such as this is on her wedding day.”

“Yes, I suppose that is true,” Ember said, evading
her questions and comments once again as she continued to rub lotion on Oaklee’s back.

“Am I getting married?” Oaklee froze, hearing her voice reach an octave higher than normal. This made Ember laugh.

“No, you are not getting married,” Ember reassured, continuing to laugh.

Oaklee turned and then leaned forward, inhaling Ember’s skin. Her eyes widened upon smelling traces of spice and she whipped her head back to stare at the Daughter of Fire.

“Did you get married?”

A warmth blushed across Ember’s face again.

“Yes,” she said breathlessly, meeting Oaklee’s eyes. “Leaf and I had a private sunrise wedding.”

“Pardon?” Oaklee took a step back, and placed a hand on her stomach. “Why was I not invited?”

“My father did not wish for you or Coal to attend, desiring a quick ceremony before today commenced to ensure that Leaf and I were legally bound together. The only witnesses were my father, mother, and Jeff. The herbalist and mother rose early and prepared me. Leaf shared that he had visited the herbalist last night to ensure I received the treatments of a bride.” Bashfulness crept over Ember’s features. She turned around and gathered oil from the basket. “This is for your hands and feet.”

“Where is Leaf?”

“Sleeping.”

Ember
turned bright red this time, causing Oaklee to look at her in horror.

“He said he had a very long night and could not sleep in anticipation of our wedding,” she blurted. “He brought up the pots of water first.”

Oaklee continued to stare at Ember as her heart grew heavy, although grateful with relief that Leaf had not shared their adventure to the portal with Ember. As Oaklee was clothed with only a towel, she could not very well march into Leaf’s room and demand answers.

“Please do not be mad at Leaf.”

“Was this Connor’s condition?”

“Yes.” Ember looked down at the floor.

“I would be so angry if a man married me simply to become a head Noble. You must feel so humiliated.” Oaklee clenched her fists, and a sense of justice rose to fight for Ember’s honor and to give Leaf a piece of her mind, and Connor, too.

“Oaklee, we are sisters now. Please, let me honor you this morning.” Ember responded with her usual peacemaking abilities.

“I thought it was customary to bring gifts to the bride, not the other way around,” Oaklee said quietly, saddened by missing her only brother’s wedding and Ember’s lack of a real response on the topic.

“This is not a customary situation,” Ember replied easily, pouring oil into Oaklee’s palm. “Sit on the bed. I will rub oil into your feet and calves.”

Oaklee complied, and rubbed her hands, enjoying the smell.

Her new sister-in-law walked over to the chair in her room and pulled up a dress. “This should do.”

She held it up to Oaklee, and both silently appreciated the beauty. The dress was fine linen, edged in woven trim around the bodice and skirt hemlines. The bodice was smocked with a border of embroidered leaves in a golden hue, dyed from ground mustard seeds and tea. The bodice flowed into a simple A-line skirt and the neckline scooped gracefully to each shoulder before flowing into tightly fitted sleeves. Separately embroidered leaves cuffed in the middle of the upper arm, and again at the elbow before the overdress trumpet sleeves fell into long flowing scarves reaching about mid-way down her skirt. Oaklee stepped into the dress, feeling magical as she slipped each arm into a sleeve. Ember walked around to the back, tying the laces that crisscrossed up her spine.

In the basket, her sister-in-law pulled out a copper girdle in the design of chained leaves. Ember fastened the belt loosely along her waist while the extra length draped down the front of the skirt to just below her knee.

“Where did this dress come from?” Oaklee asked in awe, never seeing such a stunning design.

“I made it for my wedding day, working on it each evening for nearly a year. Mother had suggested I begin when I was fifteen in preparation. You wove the flax linen.” She gave Oaklee a kind smile as she straightened out the bodice. “Coal made the girdle for my trousseau.”

The finely stitched leaves held her attention, and Oaklee fingered the embroidery in appreciation. The stitches were neat and uniform, and reminiscent of the wrought iron leaves that Connor created for Leaf’s furniture. Was this intentional? The leaf girdle was beautiful, and she studied the details in awe of Coal’s craftsmanship. Brushing her fingers over another threaded gold leaf, Oaklee wondered if Ember had thought of Leaf with each stitch as she prepared a dress with hope of becoming a bride. His bride.

“You wore this during your ceremony this morning?”

“Yes. Now it can bless you on your journey to and from The Door.”

Oaklee gathered Ember into a strong embrace, clinging to her new sister. Ember pulled away first, wiping away tears as she walked back to her basket, pulling out a comb. Oaklee sat down in her chair sideways, and allowed Ember to brush out the knots and tangles. Ember opened up the window shutters to allow sunlight to filter through onto her wet hair, and Oaklee looked up for further direction.

“Rest, and I shall bring you a cup of tea. Your hair needs to dry more before we fashion it.”

Oaklee obeyed, not moving. She glanced out of her window and watched the sunlight illuminate the temperate forest. Left alone for her thoughts to wander once again, she envisioned this as her wedding day, wondering who the groom would be at the end of the aisle. She shook her head and took a deep, cleansing breath to push away the girlish fancies from her head. She did not wish to marry. And she had given her heart to a man she would never see again, securing her declaration.