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Sasha’s not supposed to be here. That’s what she thinks right away, soon as Eldarion took her to this damned mansion. Sasha’s supposed to be a hundred feet below, sneaking into a place only half as fancy as this.
Eldarion said Rakefine told her to teach Sasha. That’s what they spoke about in the carriage here, anyways. Gods, she even had a carriage. And real jewelry, not just the clinky glass Other Londoners wore to impress, and magic too.
She was supposed to give Sasha instructions, on how to be proper. Sasha’s still not sure she knows what proper is, but based on what she’s seen it’s never speaking when someone else doesn’t tell you and wearing tight clothes and drinking tea all fancy-like.
It’s hard to get lost in thought with Eldarion’s hand clamped tight round her shoulder. Eldarion is guiding her through halls like a dog on a leash, it feels like. She was in jail before, but somehow this feels… worse.
Different, at least. Jail’s familiar, and she’s never been anywhere like here.
She registers Eldarion speaking, but Sasha can’t make herself pay attention. It’s something boring, anyways. Elocution, or etiquette, or something like that.
“Sasha, are you even listening?”
She jumps at the sound of her name, which knocks her out of her revelry. She kicks at the floor a little, scuffs the toe of her boot on the marble. “When do I get to go home?”
Eldarion looks affronted at that, one hand over her mouth. “Sasha, this is your home now. Your great uncle has appointed himself your benefactor, he’ll be the one taking care of you from now on. No more Racket nonsense, goodness what an awful place to put a child-”
She keeps talking, but Sasha’s mind’s stuck on that. Sure, Barrett and his thugs were awful, but it was still her home. She learned so much. What’s Eldarion trying to teach her that she doesn’t already know?
She thinks back, to happier times and darker places.
“Sasha, mate, you going to eat that?”
She passes the rest of her eel over to Brock, who catches it between his fingers. “Oi, Sasha, look at this.”
“What is it?”
He laughs, and tosses the eel above his head. When it comes down, it’s been cut in two...and it’s on the slick paving, soaking in the muddy water of a puddle.
“Brock, why’d you take it if you were just gonna ruin it?”
“Didn’t you see? It was one, then I cut it in two in midair!”
She smiles, begrudgingly. “Yeah, yeah, I saw. Now are you going to teach me how to do it or not?”
“Only if you tell me what you did to your red dice to make them cheat so good.”
“Never!”
“These are your quarters. Rakefine instructed that you are to bathe, get dressed, and meet him for dinner. Do you understand?”
Sasha thumps down onto the bed, taking a second just to luxuriate in the soft sheets. “But I’m already dressed, I’m wearing pants and a shirt and I’ve got my daggers and everything.”
Eldarion turns up her nose. “In real clothes, Sasha. Not that ratty black jacket, and absolutely no weaponry. That’s not befitting of a lady.”
“Why not?” says Sasha. “I think ladies should be able to wear what they wanna, n’ it’s just stupid to go out without a dagger on you. What if someone comes after you and you don’t have anything to defend yourself with?”
Eldarion sighs. “Clearly you have much to learn. A proper lady does not need weaponry, as she does not get herself into dangerous situations in which they are necessary.” She walks through the doorway, speaking without turning back to Sasha. “There is a dress in the closet that should fit you. I expect you down at dinner in fifteen minutes.”
“Listen, if you need one I can teach you how to make one, outta the spoons n’ such they give you. Takes a while, but you get something usable if you at least wanna escape.”
Sasha stares back at the goblin kid in the cell with her. It’s not her first time being caught, but these locks are trickier than normal ones. She thinks they might be magic, but she’s not sure.
“Really? And what do you want in return, then?”
The goblin shrugs. “When you get out, take me with you. I’m rubbish with locks, but you clearly know what you’re doing. We can help each other.”
Sasha nods. “Seems like a deal, mate. Shake on it?”
She spits in her hand, and the goblin spits in theirs. The two shake on it for a beat, then pull away to wipe their hands on their trousers.
“Alright then, how do you do it?”
“So first you’ve got to find something metal, yeah? Something like a spoon or a fork, or a piece of cell that’s broken off...”
She ends up getting out with them, and though they split ways afterward Sasha still thinks it’s a good lesson.
The bath is fantastic, leaving her soft and nice-smelling. She hates that the dress fits perfectly, even though she can’t quite get the zipper done. It stays undone as she walks out of her room, a dagger tucked into the folds of her skirt.
There are paintings on the walls here, and vases on display with what she thinks might be gold leaf on them. Anything here would make a killing if she found a way to nick it. She’s got no good pockets in her dress, though, not like she would in her jacket. Blast.
She makes her way down to the ‘dining hall’, as Eldarion referred to it in her tour. Even if she didn’t pay attention to much of this teacher stuff, she can case a joint like a master.
Maybe that’s because she is a master- of thievery, at least. Eldarion and Rakefine don’t seem to realize that.
The table is long, and Rakefine sits at one end of it. Eldarion sits at his right, and there’s another plate to his left for Sasha. She shuffles over to it, and starts to sit down.
Eldarion stands and comes over. “Sasha, is your dress undone?”
She shrugs with one shoulder, and stands back up. “What if it is? Not like it matters much, does it?”
Eldarion’s cold fingers find her back and tug the zipper up in one fluid motion. “It does indeed matter, young lady. You must look presentable for dinner, that’s just polite.”
Sasha twists around out of Eldarion’s grip, which seems to surprise her. “I don’t wanna live with you!”
Rakefine finally looks up from his meal, slightly confused. “Why ever not, Sasha? Am I not a far better alternative to that dreadful Barrett character?”
He’s not… wrong. Barrett was bad, really bad. She still doesn’t know what happened to Brock, but she knows the Racket gang was involved. Still, it’s not fair that the only other option is this.
“I don’t care, I don’t wanna live with you! Least Barrett let me go out and do things, and let me keep my daggers and wear my clothes. You don’t let me do anything!”
She knows she’s being a little irrational, but she can’t find it in herself to care. She rushes for the window behind Rakefine’s chair, but before she can get to it a spectral rope restrains her. Eldarion looks smug, a wand in her hand.
“Hey, no fair!”
“Are you willing to have dinner now?”
First escape attempt: failed.
And… every escape attempt after that.
Eventually she does get out, though. Sheds the dresses and manners for her familiar Other London style, and goes to someone who understands.
He’s good, she thinks. He knows Rakefine, sure, but he’s nice to her. He lets her carry knives and wear her jacket and sulk on the roof of his shop when she needs some time alone.
One day, Bi Ming takes her into his back room. “How would you like to learn something, Sasha?”
She tenses, ready for sharp courtesy and unnecessary tradition and justifications of ‘because it’s polite’.
Gusset shows her a pocket watch, with a mirrored interior and a meritocratic seal. “How much would you say this is worth, if you had to guess?”
She looks between the watch and his gentle smile a few times, before deciding. This is a person she wants to stay with. This is a lesson she wants to learn.