Page 43 of Born for Silk
We enter an empty room shaped like a hexagon, with six walls, forming perfect angles. No furniture or décor but for a mural on the floor depicting a colourful garden, reminiscent of the ones outside. It’s peaceful, quiet, and pretty—and without much character.
Is that what I’m to be?
On each angled wall is a closed door. “Six doors,” I breathe softly, scanning the space. “Five Silk Girls and the exit.”
“Yes,” Paisley confirms, walking to what I presume is my bedroom door. “This is called The Circle. I have set your room up already. With your gold sheet, Aster flowers, and the temperature of your shower is set to hot. I’ll leave you to get comfortable.” She looks around, even though we are alone. “I also put a little light reading in your drawer… I know you can read. Lucky girl. This one comes with an illustration.”
I nod, but then she is gone, back through the sixth door and out of sight. I look at the closed door to my room. Blink.
A forever room. But forever isn’t forever, only until I stop producing babes, but it is many years.
I reach for the doorknob and— 'Why do you hesitate? Don’t you want my mark.’ I push open the lovely wooden door, immediately swept up in the scent of flowers.
The room seems to open up as I walk inside. Tapestries adorn the walls, all depicting scenes from the gardens outside. An artificial fire hearth burns low flames around logs. In the corner, a sofa and a side table with a statue and a lamp.
I wander around.
How many girls have slept in here before me? Was the Silk Girl who birthed the king once in this room?
In the centre, is a grand bed carved from the same ancient wood as the doors. It is too high to sit on, one must use the stool fastened to the side.
That’s for a Xin De man…
He can sit on this bed; I must climb onto it.
In a small closet, I find modest dresses in white and a few in various hues of purple. There is a pair of brown leather pants and hide boots—to protect our skin in the Redwind. And three pairs of sandals, one with flowers on the straps, one with vines, one with rope twined laces. They’re not the exact styles as in the Silk Aviary, but similar. All Silk Girls wear alike dresses but for slight differences depending on the girl’s shape. In the Silk Aviary, the Modistes Girl, a girl who has The Trade responsible for designing, creating, and fitting apparel, would choose a modest style for me, whereas she would dress Iris in lower cuts with shorter sleeves.
I shut the closet.
I take the small steps up the side of the bed and crawl on. The mattress beneath my knees is like nothing I have ever felt before. Soft, yet forming.
Rolling to my back in the centre, I stare at the ceiling. A sensation unsettles my stomach, a flutter of anticipation and nerves.
Will a lord visit me tonight?
Or tomorrow?
Will I know beforehand?
The veil.
I turn to my knees and crawl to the bedside drawers. I hold my breath as I pull it open. Like I thought, the veil sits just inside.
I slide it on. It is a solid black silk piece that cups the top of my crown, curtaining my eyes and nose, ending at my upper lip, leaving my mouth mostly exposed. Available. Open.
Staring through the lush fabric, I see dots of light, blurry shadows that could be furniture, but no further detail. I remove the veil and place it back inside the drawer.
Do I wear this each night?
Will it hurt when he…
When he opens me?
I flop backward and cover my face with my palms, taking a big breath. Suddenly feeling hot and bothered despite the curated temperature of the room. I wish I had someone to ask questions—about the… act. Maybe one of the other Silk Girls will be kind. I’ll test her friendship by making minor mistakes, and then if she passes, I could ask her about the six months I have missed.
The details I should know.
Iris already knows them…