Erika was humming to herself, carefully repairing the hem of my dress, when I rushed into the room. The sudden noise startled her, and when I saw her start sucking on her finger I realized that she had pricked it with the needle.

  “Sorry… I didn't mean to scare you.”

  “It's fine, Sophia.”

  She held the dress up to the light of the window, inspecting it closely to make sure none of her blood had gotten on it before continuing her work.

  “So what was the rush about? Your dress is rumpled again.”

  “Hugo and Agnes…”

  Erika stood up, set the dress down, and walked over to inspect me. She held my head and ran her fingers across my cheek, looking for any signs of damage.“Did they do anything to you? Are you alright?”

  “They didn't manage to catch me, this time. Nothing happened.”

  “This is nothing?” she said as she grasped at my wrist, holding up my hand and pointing at the bloodstain that had dried into the cuff of it.

  “That wasn't them… I cut myself by accident.”

  She threw her hands up in exasperation before dragging me into position to be undressed. “That's the third dress in as many days…” she muttered to herself.

  “Sorry...” I whispered, avoiding looking in her eyes as her hands did their work.

  After a few short moments, she paused.

  "Sophie. We need to talk about this Adrian thing."

  "Adrian thing?"

  "I can tell you don't like him, but marrying him is our best way out of here. Could you tell me what it is that has you so hesitant? He's handsome. He has money. He also doesn't have any legitimate siblings, meaning that you won't have to worry about getting caught up in succession disputes. One day, you'd be Duchess Hiems. Is that all so bad?

  "I don't... like him. I understand that he's supposed to be handsome, but after he left me in the library, the idea of being anywhere near him just makes me sick. Duchesses need to make children, and tradition would dictate I would have to have seven of them. I can't... stand the thought."

  Erika remained quiet for a few moments, thinking.

  "What if I were to do it?"

  I cocked my head to the side, not seeing where she was going with this.

  "If you really don't want to have children with him so bad, I could... substitute in, no? And then when you don't get pregnant... eventually I wouldn't have to anymore. He would have to seek a mistress, or your marriage might get annulled. We'd be free, then."

  "Erika! You can't. You can't do that. I won't let you."

  Her hands gripped my shoulders so tight that it started to hurt, but then she continued her work.

  "If it's what's stopping you from getting us out of here, then it's not a matter of what you'll allow. It's what I need to do."

  After just a little while longer I heard her whisper, as if to herself, "It's not like this place is any easier for me, you know."

  ---

  Tonight was the night of my first lesson with Diana, and I couldn't be more anxious. "What if she doesn't come?" I thought to myself, sitting in the garden, making a crown of flowers. "What if I really did just dream up the whole thing?"

  "I told you to stop holding your magic in like that."

  Diana was suddenly standing over me, this time in a rose pink dress and holding a matching parasol. She still wore the same silver ribbon. I nearly jumped out of my skin in shock, as I had not heard her approach.

  I slowly allowed myself to stop holding in my magic, and let it come out of me with every breath. This time it didn't hurt nearly as much, instead just feeling vaguely itchy all over for a bit.

  Diana unfolded a sheet and laid it down on the grass next to me, holding her dress carefully to avoid creasing it as she sat down beside me. Without asking, she took my hand and held it.

  The cool feeling of her camphor-scented aura washed over me, but her hand still felt pleasant in mine.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  The stars seemed to get a little brighter, the flowers just a bit more beautiful, and it almost felt like the world became more… itself, around us. And we were becoming less of ourselves, fading away, as she pulled me down to lie beside her on the sheet and look up at the stars.

  "This is my magic. What do you think?"

  A rather pretty moth flew over and bumped into her nose, as if she wasn't there, and she smiled a bit before calmly brushing it off.

  "Yeah... I think I like it, too. What's happening?"

  "Magic is, at its foundation, an expression of the strongest wish of the person who has it. Understanding what concept underlies your magic is the first step to controlling it. It might be something simple like, "I want to be strong," or "I don't want to be hurt," or something esoteric like, "I want to shine as bright as the sun." Simpler concepts are usually stronger, especially if you feel more strongly about them."

  I thought about that for a while. I tried to think about what concept lay under whatever Diana was doing right now, but couldn't figure it out. "At least mine seems rather simple. I don't want to be hurt, so my hurts fix themselves. I guess."

  Holding Diana's hand, I felt like the whole world was moving around us, and we could just let it pass by forever.

  I waited for Diana to break the silence, but she didn't. I wondered a bit about how this constituted a lesson, but I supposed that what she had said was already a lot for me to think about. "Maybe I'm just supposed to think about it? Is this what tutors are like?"

  Finally, I asked, "So how do I stop doing magic? You said something last night about letting the ambient magic pass through untouched?"

  Diana waited a while longer before answering, enraptured by the stars. Her head then turned so she could look me directly in the eyes.

  "You have to stop wanting whatever it is that you're wishing for. At least, enough to be comfortable with the idea of it not coming true. Comfortable just letting things happen."

  She turned to look back up at the stars. "You don't have to let your thoughts control you. The strongest wish you have isn't necessarily the same thing as what you really want. When you become more comfortable with yourself, you'll naturally have more control."

  She smirked a bit. "Or you could just stop caring. While I don't think the way you're expressing your magic is healthy, it doesn't feel like something inherently bad. Not like mine."

  "How could your deepest wish be a bad thing? It feels so nice." I thought to myself, letting myself take a deep breath. The smell had stopped being "sharp" or "scary", and I enjoyed the feeling it was giving me.

  But she didn't seem ready to talk about it, so I let it be. Instead, I became all too aware that my hand was starting to get sweaty, and nervous that she would find it gross.

  "Your wishes can change over time, too. That isn't to say that your magic will change much, but it can start doing new things. Express itself differently."

  I turned my head to look away from her face and up at the stars, and tried to see what she was seeing in them.

  She didn't say anything more, and suddenly I felt myself wake up on the sheet, alone. The rise of the moon told me that I had been napping for at least a few hours.

  The crown of flowers that I had started was finished and resting on my head.

  ---

  I quietly tiptoed through the darkness back towards my room. It was long past my curfew, and even the servants had long since finished all their work and retired to their quarters. I was carrying my shoes in my hand to avoid making too much noise, but my dress annoyed me by dragging across the ground. Why did it have to be just long enough that just the smallest lift was the difference?

  All of my dresses, save for very few that I had encouraged Erika to pick out using my meager allowance, were hand-me-downs from Agnes, and even when she was my age she was a good two or three inches taller than me. Erika must not have had time to fix up this one. Or maybe she just had better things to do with her time, since neither of us liked the color green very much. I was wearing it because I knew it would probably get dirty in the garden.

  I heard someone whistle a sharp call, and I turned my head just in time to see Hugo stick a blade into the wall next to my neck.

  "Hey, Mutt. What were you doing out there so late?"

  "I was..." I began, before growing fearful of mentioning Diana. Hugo could hurt me as much as he liked, and he liked it quite a lot, but I didn't feel confident that he wasn't crazy enough to hurt a guest of the house.

  "Don't bother trying to come up with a lie. I watched you go out there. Decided to take a nap out on the dirt, eh? Missing your mudhole that badly?"

  His shortsword flicked to rest on my shoulder, and he pressed it against my neck. It was a dull blade for practicing, but that didn't mean much to someone as strong as Hugo. He could kill me with a butter knife as easily as anything else.

  "Does it matter? Just... get it over with, Hugo. Whatever you're going to do."

  I closed my eyes, waiting for the pain to start. I leaned back against the wall, and felt myself lean back even further into my mind, into the small corner of it that I always found myself retreating to in times like this. As my heart began racing, I fell further and further into that space in the back of my head.

  A hard punch to my gut caused the thing I called "my body" to fall forward into the fetal position, and it began sobbing and gasping reflexively. Magic was pouring out of its mouth and its insides began to burn as the power took hold. Several swift kicks followed, and it coughed up something red.

  "Don't tell me what to do. Don't ever tell me what to do. It starts when I say it starts, and it's over when I say it's over."

  One last stomp fell upon its knee, and then the body on the floor heard footsteps walking away.

  The girl began to cry. The girl wished, more than anything, to just feel whole again.

  And after a few long, long minutes, I stood up, and slowly limped my way back to my room. Halfway there, there was a popping noise in my leg, and my limp became a run.

  I wanted to wish, like I often did, that I wouldn't wake up tomorrow. But instead, I wished that I could just go back to when I was outside with Diana. I hoped that I would see her again soon, that it hadn't been yet another dream, and that she would be waiting there for me.

  But it hadn't been lost on me that Hugo hadn't mentioned her.