Flora's Dare: How a Girl of Spirit Gambles All to Expand Her Vocabulary, Confront a Bouncing Boy Terror, and Try to Save Califa from a Shaky Doom (Despite Being Confined to Her Room) by Ysabeau S. Wilce Page A
Authors: Ysabeau S. Wilce
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and Lieutenant Sabre were on the steamer for Aurora, the first leg of the journey to Fort Jones. I felt terrible that she was making such a long trip for nothing, but what could I do? I couldn’t think of any way to tell her the trip was pointless without giving away Idden. And I still had to worry about the Warlord’s Birthday Ball.
In all the hullabaloo, I hadn’t had time to work on my Glamour or try to rescue my wardrobe. But then, unexpectedly, Idden did me a favor. On the ride to the docks, Mamma was full of instructions—one of which was that Poppy should send his regrets to the Warlord. She did not want him going to the Ball alone.
I saw my chance and leaped, offering to go with Poppy. I pointed out that the Warlord might be insulted if our family made no showing at all. Poppy, surprisingly, sided with me, saying that at such a volatile time it was important for our family to show the Warlord support.
Reluctantly, Mamma agreed. At the docks, she hugged Poppy good-bye and kissed each dog on the nose. Then she hugged me and whispered in my ear, “Keep an eye on your father, Flora.” I whispered back that I would, and then the steamer was chugging out onto the deep blue bay, Mamma a dark blur, getting smaller and smaller until we could not see her at all. But her flag stayed visible until the steamer rounded Black Point and was gone.
Once again it was just Poppy, me, and the dogs.
Of course, in the Fyrdraaca family there’s always a catch, and in this case, the catch was that Poppy did not think that I should get the day off just because we were going to the biggest social event of the season. Despite my protests that I needed to prepare for the Ball, Poppy insisted on study time.
By the time he finally released me, I was so sick to death of tactics that if I had been called upon right that moment to lead a Flying Wedge, or Oblique Left Double-Time, or enfilade the enemy using Honeychurch’s Backward Line-Breaker, I would have just lain down on the ground and let my troops ride right over me.
Not all battles are fought on a battlefield and not all weapons draw blood,
Nini Mo said. Released from Poppy bondage, I could turn my thoughts completely toward the tactics to use at the Ball. I couldn’t just walk up to Lord Axacaya in front of everyone. I had to be subtle and discreet. I had to be calm and deliberate. I needed to give the impression of being a reasonable adult who should be taken seriously.
Nini Mo says you should dress to fit the occasion, but that was easy for her to say. I’m sure she had a huge wardrobe of fabulous clothes, and if not, at least she had her own money to buy as many clothes as she could want. Nearly all my clothes were hand-me-downs from Idden. I remembered painfully that the Zu-Zu’s fashionable clothes were surely not castoffs. Which reminded me painfully of Udo’s treachery. He went off with
her
and left
me
in the lurch, the dolt. How could he? I would never desert him, no matter what. He was faithless. I should have known it would come to this. Udo is pretty but he has no staying power. Well, I hoped he enjoyed his new scrawny little friend. She was welcome to him, and he to her.
Have fun, Udo.
“Your kilts are too short, and your sleeves not long enough.” Valefor had perched on top of my wardrobe. He’d recovered a bit from his fright the night before, but not much. Now he was so wispy that if he didn’t hold on tightly to something, he bobbed up toward the ceiling, so he split the difference by holding on to something up high. “No one wears lacy collars now, nor pinafores unless they are doing yard work, Flora Segunda, and you are going to the Warlord’s Birthday Ball. The press will be there, and they will write that the Fyrdraacas have lost all their fashion sense. I shall die of shame.”
I surveyed the mess strewn on the settee, on my bed, on my desk, heaped on the floor: every piece of clothing I owned, including the fluffy Catorcena dress, everything
In all the hullabaloo, I hadn’t had time to work on my Glamour or try to rescue my wardrobe. But then, unexpectedly, Idden did me a favor. On the ride to the docks, Mamma was full of instructions—one of which was that Poppy should send his regrets to the Warlord. She did not want him going to the Ball alone.
I saw my chance and leaped, offering to go with Poppy. I pointed out that the Warlord might be insulted if our family made no showing at all. Poppy, surprisingly, sided with me, saying that at such a volatile time it was important for our family to show the Warlord support.
Reluctantly, Mamma agreed. At the docks, she hugged Poppy good-bye and kissed each dog on the nose. Then she hugged me and whispered in my ear, “Keep an eye on your father, Flora.” I whispered back that I would, and then the steamer was chugging out onto the deep blue bay, Mamma a dark blur, getting smaller and smaller until we could not see her at all. But her flag stayed visible until the steamer rounded Black Point and was gone.
Once again it was just Poppy, me, and the dogs.
Of course, in the Fyrdraaca family there’s always a catch, and in this case, the catch was that Poppy did not think that I should get the day off just because we were going to the biggest social event of the season. Despite my protests that I needed to prepare for the Ball, Poppy insisted on study time.
By the time he finally released me, I was so sick to death of tactics that if I had been called upon right that moment to lead a Flying Wedge, or Oblique Left Double-Time, or enfilade the enemy using Honeychurch’s Backward Line-Breaker, I would have just lain down on the ground and let my troops ride right over me.
Not all battles are fought on a battlefield and not all weapons draw blood,
Nini Mo said. Released from Poppy bondage, I could turn my thoughts completely toward the tactics to use at the Ball. I couldn’t just walk up to Lord Axacaya in front of everyone. I had to be subtle and discreet. I had to be calm and deliberate. I needed to give the impression of being a reasonable adult who should be taken seriously.
Nini Mo says you should dress to fit the occasion, but that was easy for her to say. I’m sure she had a huge wardrobe of fabulous clothes, and if not, at least she had her own money to buy as many clothes as she could want. Nearly all my clothes were hand-me-downs from Idden. I remembered painfully that the Zu-Zu’s fashionable clothes were surely not castoffs. Which reminded me painfully of Udo’s treachery. He went off with
her
and left
me
in the lurch, the dolt. How could he? I would never desert him, no matter what. He was faithless. I should have known it would come to this. Udo is pretty but he has no staying power. Well, I hoped he enjoyed his new scrawny little friend. She was welcome to him, and he to her.
Have fun, Udo.
“Your kilts are too short, and your sleeves not long enough.” Valefor had perched on top of my wardrobe. He’d recovered a bit from his fright the night before, but not much. Now he was so wispy that if he didn’t hold on tightly to something, he bobbed up toward the ceiling, so he split the difference by holding on to something up high. “No one wears lacy collars now, nor pinafores unless they are doing yard work, Flora Segunda, and you are going to the Warlord’s Birthday Ball. The press will be there, and they will write that the Fyrdraacas have lost all their fashion sense. I shall die of shame.”
I surveyed the mess strewn on the settee, on my bed, on my desk, heaped on the floor: every piece of clothing I owned, including the fluffy Catorcena dress, everything
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