“We are going to get into so much trouble,” Aliks said, giggling.
“Truly? More trouble than for stealing tarts from the kitchen or more trouble than for reading books from the restricted section?” Petrea taunted.
It had been nearly a year since the night she had talked to the crying girl and declared they were now best friends and, even though she had seemed skeptical at the time, Petrea had become just that. This time, however, the game was to see how far they could push their luck.
The initiates were learning embroidery, to practice dexterity. They had been told they could have freedom of expression, but to remember that these would be put on cushions for the salons. The idea had been Aliksandria’s at first, but Petrea had been the one to bring it to fruition. When Petrea showed Aliks the sketch, both girls burst into fits of laughter. But they embroidered the designs nonetheless.
Aliksandria was shocked when the Second looked at their work and declared their stitching to be fine and their use of florals in blues to be elegant. Petrea had actually held her breath. They had to see it, right? But either way the cushions were made.
It was almost another year later when they were summoned to the Dowayne’s office to be dressed down. As it turned out, no one had noticed, until an eagle-eyed and bored patron looked too closely at the cushions. Rumor was he laughed uproariously and told the Dowayne he was honored to see Cereus House care so much for their male patrons. It had been then that the Dowayne picked up the cushion, turned it sideways and saw it: a man’s member where the flower stamen should have been.
The Dowayne glared at the two girls who stood in her office. They tried to appear contrite, but struggled to hold their laughter. A year! It had taken almost a full year for anyone to notice their naughty embroidery, prominently displayed in a salon for all to see. Truth be told, they were almost proud of themselves.
“This behavior is absolutely unbecoming of a Cereus adept. Perhaps Orchis House might accept it, but not here,” she snapped. “Now, which one of you is responsible for this idea? Who is the troublemaker?”
Aliks took a deep breath and managed to speak over her friend who was about to confess. “It was my idea. We are Servants of Naamah, after all, my lady, and is there not beauty in the human form?”
Next to her, Petrea was biting her lip to keep from laughing at Aliks’s blithe tone.
“The celebration of our bodies is one thing, but this is mockery. It is beneath us. We must hold ourselves to a high standard here.” She looked pointedly at Aliks. “I know you have ambition, Aliksandria, and if you want to rise to prominence, you cannot engage in such childish nonsense!”
At this, all humor seemed to drain from the room. Aliks wanted nothing more than to become Dowayne of Cereus House someday. She and Petrea were, perhaps, old enough now for their behavior to be noted. She was being warned.
Next to her, Petrea cleared her throat, glancing at her friend. She had come to the same conclusion. “What Aliks says is true, but we do now understand how our…work…could be seen as a mockery. We both truly do regret our actions and we see that such behavior is below our station.” She paused. “Thank you for your guidance, my lady.”
The Dowayne nodded once and then looked at each girl, meeting their eyes. “You must take care. Now, take your leave.”
Want to stitch your own scandals? Click the links below for Petrea and Aliks’s embroidery patterns.