A Brazen Maiden (#1 BRAZEN series-part of the GOLDEN universe) ✔

•T H I R T Y - T H R E E•

♪ I, can't afford to be stuck in this, yeah
Trying not to let it show, show, show ♪
{Ashley Tisdale—Under Pressure}

Only a few days left.

Harriet's confinement had its perks, she had to admit. No one bothered or bullied her, no one reminded her she was the daughter of a foul Vidame, no one mocked her dress choices. In fact, she hadn't needed to wear much else than her night-gown or her light shifts and under-shirts. Especially with the sweltering August heat.

She had no window to open to allow air in, so most days she feared she might suffocate. But a servant or a butler would always arrive to give her reprieve. They'd escort her to the washroom, let her do her business, offer her a few moments to breathe—and then lock her up again. She felt like an ailing elderly lady whose life neared its end, and yet... the isolation benefited her more than she'd imagined it would.

Her thoughts cleared. She realized how her erratic behavior weighed on her conscious, and how the list of her offenses had grown in the past few months. Grown too much. She'd harassed Johanna, spied on her Director, lied to her teachers, gone to war with a dear friend. And all for nothing, as she still had no clue who her benefactors were. And perhaps... Miss M. was right, and she shouldn't know.

Sitting at her vanity one evening, dreaming of iced water to drizzle down the back of her neck, of a breeze to breathe in, she jumped when her door blew open.

"Oh!" She had expected no visitors, and she'd already taken her escape to the chamber-pot, so her muscles clenched as she faced the arrival—and gasped. "Esther? What are you doing here?"

Pressing a finger to her lips, Esther closed the door behind her. Harriet didn't hear it click shut. "I had to see if you were all right!"

Harriet put her fist to her mouth and feigned a cough. "But I am ill, you should not be in here with me, the contagion—"

"—is a steaming pile of horse dung!" The girl's thick eyebrows slid upwards as she meandered farther into the room. She sniffed the air—stuffy and sweaty—and her nostrils wrinkled. "What happened? The gossip is preposterous! Some stated you quit school, others claim you are dying, and a few mentioned punishment?"

There was no use pretending in front of her best friend. "Punishment is the correct answer," said Harriet, her cheeks heating. A few strands of hair stuck to her lower neck, and she winced. "Two weeks' suspension, but Miss M. promised she would make it clear I was sick..."

"Oh, she did." Esther snatched Harriet's bottle of perfume—one with only a few drops left, a precious gift from her departed mother—and spritzed the area before stepping any closer. "But you know how the girls interpret anything that woman says. They never take her seriously. Have you noticed Charlotte repenting since last time, when the Director threatened her?" She scoffed. "She has not. Continues her bullying. And with you gone, she targets the Juniors tenfold. That poor Céleste—"