Page 28 of For the Strange and Surprising

Once the door is closed, I replay my conversation with the queen. I didn’t have a chance to ask her many questions before she left, though I’m positive that I asked some.

And I got nothing out of Isolde.

I don’t know whether it was my choice of wording or her knack for steering the conversation. She seemed to have a response for everything, but really…

She didn’t answer shit.

Adelaide

Day Six

It’s been a somewhat peaceful four days alone.

Except I haven’t been totally alone.

Two Mongrel women have stopped by at least three times a day to bring me food and clothing. I now have a pile of shit I won’t eat on the table because I don’t know what it is. They won’t talk to me at all, much less tell me what it’s made from.

Imryll came two days ago to check on my arm and wrap it again. It’s healing faster than either of us was expecting, so today, I get to take the bandage off. As I unwind the cloth, I’m greeted with a thick, pink scar slashed across my right forearm.

But it also cements what has been running through my mind.

This place is real.

There are no cameras.

I don’t know how to get home.

It’s all I’ve been able to think about, and I still don’t have a reasonable explanation for anything. I’m not a scientist, so I can’t make the events of the last six days make sense.

It’s been so quiet in this room that people are starting to sound fun to be around. I’ve soaked in a bathtub made of stone, rearranged everything I could physically move by myself, slept, and eaten things that I can’t even begin to describe… It’s made me bitchy, and I’m now getting on my own nerves.

I need some fucking sunshine before I drive myself crazy.

The only entertainment I’ve had is a window that’s not made of glass, and that also doesn’t open. Why? Because it’s water, and nothing is holding it in place. No frame. No seals. And no freaking latches to let in the breeze or the heat. The skylight is nice, but I’m sick of chasing the sun’s rays around the room.

There have been a few times where I’ve thought I saw a man standing in the treeline. He hasn’t been close enough to make out any of his features clearly, but I think he’s too tall and slender to be one of the men I’ve already met. He’s probably getting a kick out of watching me brood over my agreed-upon captivity.

So I just gawked back at him, because if he’s going to be a creep, then I am too.

One of the women brought me breakfast and new clothing this morning. There was a note on top saying that Talodus would be escorting me today. That sounds like this is day one of self-defense training, and I can’t tell if I’m looking forward to the exercise or not.

I sigh as I force myself to play the part of Isolde’s doll. Her fashion sense is way more girly than mine. I’d kill for some blue jeans or tights. Really, any kind of pants would make me giddy. If I’m going to be subjected to nothing but full-length skirts, then we’re going to have to talk about pockets.

The gladiator-style dress that was delivered matches the sandals I was already given. There are triangular pieces of armor that hug the tops of my shoulders. The bodice is more like a corset than some of the lingerie I’ve owned.

The outfit makes me feel like Xena the Warrior Princess from that ‘90s television show. But no one here will get the reference, and I don’t have a clue how to hold a sword.

It would be a fantastic Halloween costume, though.

I take a single step across the room when I notice a much bigger issue than weapons and TV trivia.

The skirt is short, which wouldn’t normally be a problem, but it lacks any length. Coverage is a nonexistent concept in this thing. I’ve seen exotic dancers strut on stage with less skin exposed.

My movements lift the leather strips that make up the skirt. I can feel the breeze on my exposed thigh, all the way up to my hip, where the waist of my panties would sit…

If I had any on.

But I wasn’t wearing any when I went fishing. Those Nike athletic shorts have built-in underwear things, so I always skip wearing an extra pair. I’d never seen the point in it.