donât you?â Isla said to her. âThe silk?â
âWell . . .â Graceful knew how they made linen, but . . . âWell . . .â
âThey boil the cocoons, to kill the caterpillars before they can hatch and damage the silk thread.â
âOh!â said Graceful. How did Isla always know these things? âThe poor caterpillars.â
âAye.â
Why did Father want to change the order of things? It made her insides jump. Father was sun and earth and all things between, and no one was greater than him, not even the gods, but Fenister Fort Farm had boundaries, boundaries set so long ago that no one knew who or how or why, but that they were set. And Father was pushing them around. Merrydance field would grow, eating the forest so that it could be planted all over again with trees, trees of a different kind, Uplander trees. How strange the world looked this evening. Before it had been light or dark, but now it was both mixed together and there was no sorting them one from the other.
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PUSHING THE BOUNDARIES of the land meant pushing the people of the village. Kayforl pushed back. It pushed back at her, Graceful.
She went one day to Kayforl village with Father. Father was inside Sanderlinâs store and Graceful outside, waiting for him. Around her a crowd of village women and children grew.
âAlways do think of their pockets, that lot,â said the women. âSell their own mams off they would.â
âScrull,â a boy hissed.
âEeeh!â That came from all of them, all laughing. They looked at her with cold eyes. Theyâd always looked at her with eyes cold and laughing!
One leaned close. âUplander toadies.â
Laughing no more, the women wandered back to their stoops, to stand and sweep and stare. The children stayed.
âFat scrull,â said the same boy.
Graceful wished she had gone in with Father.
âFat, ugly scrull.â
The children held their bellies and staggered about, legless with laughter. Graceful stared at them, shame burning in her face, and thought, Ugly? Am I?
âFat, ugly, ah!â The boy was hanging by his collar, and his collar was fisted in Cam Attlingâs hand. âLeave her be, Farrow Gorlance,â he said. âOr Iâll be hearing about it.â
The children scattered.
Said her betrothed, âMiss Graceful, are you all right?â
âOh!â said Graceful. âYes.â She felt the red run up her face to her headscarf, down her neck under her collar. âOh, yes.â
The village pushed back, but her betrothed did not.
He smiled, and though he was dark as Stepmother was pale, his smile was like hers because it warmed Graceful. âIâll be going, until your da pays his Welcome Visit.â And off he strode. Cam Fenister , thought Graceful. Cam and Graceful Fenister . She blushed again.
âGar!â Father had, at last, come out of the store. âWill you look! Dung to his trew cuffs.â
Graceful thought him magnificent. âFather? Will you be visiting him soon?â
But Father was busy chirruping at Agerst, and didnât hear her.
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GRACEFUL SAT TO dinner in the hall. She spilled her tea, refused her meat, was refused dessert.
âWhatever is the matter with you?â said Stepmother.
Graceful did not know. She watched tears plip-plop onto her plate. âWhy will you not visit Attlingâs Oldest?â
âMoppet.â Stepmother put her arms about her. âMoppet . . . â
âIâll tell her, Vivrain.â
Father took her on his knee. âYou are getting too big for me to do this much longer, my little Graceful.â
There was something awful to come, Graceful knew it.
âYour betrothal to Attlingâs Oldest is to be undone.â
Graceful wailed. âBut it canât be.â
âYou did not want to be betrothed to him in the first instance.â
âWell, now I do.â
âOh!â
William K. Klingaman, Nicholas P. Klingaman
John McEnroe;James Kaplan