Amy (
kitchen_maid) wrote2005-10-04 01:24 pm
In Room 203
The Ordinary Princess is sitting on the windowsill again, in her petticoat, something she's been lectured about a time or two back home. Her dress is spread over her lap, and she's trying to patch the latest holes, but she's sewing patches to patches, and the needle is enough to make the homespun fabric fall to bits.
"It's no use, Mr. Pemberthy," she says. "This is not going work."
Well, this is a problem.
"It's no use, Mr. Pemberthy," she says. "This is not going work."
Well, this is a problem.

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"Countries I've never seen, people I've never met, myself in ways I'll never be."
She sighs, a bit.
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"That's lovely of you to say, Amy," she says, fondly. "I'd not change you, either."
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"Didn't you ever imagine yourself as different from you are?"
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"Whereas no one ever had any expectations for me at all, except when they expected me to fix the meals or feed the children or do the chores."
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Under ordinary circumstances, the Ordinary Princess is good at it, too.
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Anne looks out the window, thoughtfully.
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And then she begins to laugh, which she hasn't done in a few days. She holds out the skirt. "Anne, I think I'm doing something very wrong here."
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"All right. Let's see what we're doing, here."
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They're up most of the night, talking mostly nonsense, but silly and giddy and young and happy.
By the time they fall into their beds, the sun is only hours from being up, and they're both very tired.
But the dress is finished.