Free Unraveled by Gennifer Albin Page B

my hand. It reflects the image of my engagement
     ring, and I choke back a scream.
    With Amie here I’ll have another source of information. She will hear things spill
     from his lips, and if I can earn her trust I will learn those secrets from her. But
     to do that I must trust her as well. Cormac may have twisted her to his purposes,
     but the old Amie is in there and I know how she works. I know her heart as well as
     my own. Cormac thinks he has the upper hand, but two can play this evil game.
    Albert’s words echo in my memory:
    Destroy the looms. If you choose this path, others will follow you as Whorl. Embrace
     and trust them, but know their hearts. As you must know your own.

 
    EIGHT
     
    I ’M UNCERTAIN WHEN I ’LL HEAR FROM MY sister. I’m sure she’s still scared of me after the night on Alcatraz when I unwound
     Kincaid, but the very next morning a note arrives. She’s arranged for us to have a
     fitting for new gowns the next day, something I’m not looking forward to. But it’s
     the first time I’ll be alone with her since my retrieval, so I go with the flow and
     agree to host it in my overlarge quarters.
    As soon as she arrives with Pryana at her side, I know this is a mistake. Pryana’s
     eyes travel along the walls of my living room, taking in the upholstered sofas and
     carved tables, all the essence of elegance and wealth.
    “Aren’t you moving up in the world.” Pryana isn’t asking me a question. It’s merely an observation—one
     that reeks of annoyance. This should have been her life.
    “It’s not really my taste,” I say, leading them through the apartment to the bedroom.
     My closet is preconfigured for fittings, with mirror-lined platforms and ample space
     to work.
    Amie dashes in and starts plucking gowns from the racks, holding them up to her slender
     figure as she eyes herself in the full-length mirror.
    “I don’t think you’re supposed to have taste as Cormac’s wife.” Pryana speaks in a
     quiet voice that only I can hear.
    “I’m not terribly interested in mirroring my … fiancé’s tastes,” I say.
    “How modern of you,” Pryana says. She wanders through my closet, picking up heels
     from the shoe racks and examining them. “And stupid.”
    I snatch the shoes back from her. “I’m known for my abstinence.”
    Before the nastiness can escalate between us, Amie coughs politely. I don’t want her
     caught in the middle of our feud, especially since I can’t trust Pryana’s motivations
     for getting close to her. But Amie might as well know how Pryana and I feel about
     each other.
    The seamstresses arrive and maids take our dresses, hanging them to wait while we’re
     measured and sized. Standing with my sister and my old enemy in nothing more than
     a wispy slip, I feel surprisingly vulnerable. I thought I would outgrow feeling awkward
     around Pryana, but she’s still as poised as ever. One thing I’m definitely not.
    “I love the lace on your hem,” Amie says, darting over to study it. “I think it must
     be Chantilly.”
    It’s such a silly thing to notice, and yet some of the tension in the room evaporates.
    “Amie knows everything about textiles,” Pryana explains to me after I give my sister
     a curious look.
    “If I don’t get chosen as a Spinster,” Amie whispers to me, “I want to be assigned
     to make the dresses.”
    I smile at her. For a second, she’s five years old and we’re back in our living room
     in Romen, splayed out on the floor, watching Spinsters stroll the purple carpet at
     the State of the Guild address.
    We were innocent then, seeing only the beautiful surface of Arras’s elite class. Knowing
     Amie still studies dresses makes me feel as though a balloon filled with happiness
     is inflating inside my chest. Somehow, even with everything she’s been through, this
     hasn’t changed. It brings me hope.
    “You would make beautiful dresses,” I tell her. And you’ll be safe doing it, I add silently. No one