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To the ones who hunger— for love, for time, or simply to be free
Bury my bones in the midnight soil, plant them shallow and water them deep, and in my place will grow a feral rose, soft red petals hiding sharp white teeth.
Born restless, her father used to say. Which was fine for a son, but bad for a daughter.
“And how is a miracle different from a spell? Who is to say the saint was not a witch?”
“Careful. In nature, beauty is a warning. The pretty ones are often poisonous.”
But María has known, all her life, that she is not meant for common paths, for humble houses and modest men. If she must walk a woman’s road, then it will take her somewhere new.
“You will learn, it is better to bend than to break.”
María stared into the hearth. “Why should I be the one who bends?”
No literally
Men like the viscount, they take what they want.”
So do I, thought María as the comb hissed through her hair like water on hot coals.
Ugh yesssss
But María only smiles, and reminds herself they are a key, unlocking the doors to a better life.
And then she pulls free, and takes her husband’s outstretched arm, and lets him lead her away, not knowing, of course— She will never see her family again.
I just got goosebumps
Nothing fits, even if it’s fitted, because it’s not really about the size of the body or how it fills the clothes, but how much space it takes up in the world.
New Alice, who doesn’t say sorry every time she so much as skims the air around another person’s space, as if none of it belongs to her.
Why is this me
the last thing he says before he falls asleep is not “I love you,” or “Thank you,” or even “My wife,” but “Let it be a son.”
Ugh disgusting
“I think the world of you,” he answers blithely as he leads her back into the house. “And that is why I want you to myself.”
Buuut this doesn’t sound appealing
“My body was made to expel,” he says. “Yours to receive. And God willing, to grow heirs.”
Stop this is the worst
And while she cannot stop her husband from coming to her bed, it is one thing to be stormed, and another to be conquered—the difference between a brief invasion and a long-term siege.
Sabine looks at her kindly. “A name is like a dress. It might be by nature pretty or plain, but it is the person wearing it who matters most.”
“One can be alone without feeling lonely,” she muses. “One can feel lonely without being alone.”
“All you have to do is ask,” whispers the widow.
Ahhh this tension
Two kinds of women have leave to walk through this world alone and unmolested.
“María is no more,” she whispers in his ear. “My name is Sabine.”
WHAT?!
“Bury my bones in the midnight soil,” he begins, infusing the words with the air of theater. “Plant them shallow and water them deep. And in my place will grow a feral rose.” He leans down to Renata and cups her face, running a thumb across her bottom lip. “Soft red petals hiding sharp white teeth.”
That this one girl will be both the beginning and the end of everything.
I wonder if its lottie or maybe el
Lottie clears her throat and says the word again. “Sabine.”
HOLY SHIT!!!!!
“Because you are the kind of bloom that thrives in any soil.
It was only a season, she told herself, thinking it was true. She had no way of knowing then. It would be fifty-two years before she returned to Clement Hall.
“But you cannot have what you want until you know what you want. And once you do know,” she adds, “it’s only a matter of what you’re willing to do to get it.”
“The world will try to make you small. It will tell you to be modest, and meek. But the world is wrong. You should get to feel and love and live as boldly as you want.”
“Like I’m some foolish child. A silly girl who’s spent the entire Season clinging to your skirts.” For the first time, she is brave enough to find Sabine’s burning gaze, and hold it. “You told me to come find you, when I knew what I wanted. Well, I do.”
Yesss charlotte!!!
“I have wanted you since the night we met, and every moment since. I want the life you speak of, that belongs to no one else. I want to feel and love and live as boldly as I please. I want to be like you.” She closes the gap between them, lifts her hands to cup Sabine’s face, is shocked again by the coldness of her skin, but she doesn’t pull away. “But most of all, I want to be with you.”
“I want you,” she says, the light rekindling behind her hazel eyes. “I have wanted you in ballrooms and in parlors, in crowds and behind closed doors. I have wanted you since before we ever met.”
Stoooop I’m obsessed
Why does Charlotte stay? That is like asking—why stay inside a house on fire? Easy to say when you are standing on the street, a safe distance from the flames. Harder when you are still inside, convinced you can douse the blaze before it spreads, or rushing room to room, trying to save what you love before it burns.
