Hobb, Robin - Liveship01 - Ship of Magic by Ship of Magic

Author:Ship of Magic [Magic, Ship of]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-01-07T07:26:59+00:00

IT ALL WOULD HAVE GONE PERFECTLY IF NOT FOR THAT FAT FOOL DAVAD RESTART. Malta had found the money under her pillow on the morning that her father left to go to sea. She recognized his cramped handwriting from the missives her mother occasionally received while her father was off trading. "For my not-so-little daughter," Papa had written. "Green silk would suit you best." Inside the soft little bag had been four gold coins. She had not been sure what they were worth; they were foreign coins, from one of the lands he visited when he was trading. What Malta had been instantly certain of was that they would be enough for the most sumptuous gown that Bingtown had ever seen. In the days that followed, whenever she had doubts, she had held the note and re-read it and assured herself that she had her father's permission to do this. Not only his permission, but his assistance: the money was proof of that. His connivance, her mother would say later, darkly. Her mother was so predictable. As was her grandmother. Her grandmother had declined to attend the Harvest Offering Ball, citing mourning Grandfather as a reason. And that was all the excuse her mother needed to tell her that no one in the Vestrit family was going to the Ball. And thus, she said, there was to be no argument over dresses or frocks or gowns. She had Rache giving her dancing lessons now, and they were seeking a good etiquette teacher as well. In the meantime, Rache would help her with those lessons, also. And that was more than enough for now for a young girl of her age. The severity of her mother's tone had surprised her. When Malta had been brave enough to say, "But my father said . . ." her own mother had turned on her with something close to fury in her eyes. "Your father is not here," she had pointed out coldly. "I am. And I know what is proper for a young Bingtown girl. As should you. Malta, there is time and more than enough time for you to be a woman. It is natural for you to be curious about such things, and natural, too, for you to wish for lovely gowns and wonderful evenings dancing with handsome young men. But too much curiosity and eagerness . . . well. It could lead you down the same path as your Aunt Althea took. So trust me. I will be the one to tell you when the time is right for such things. I also know there is much more to the Harvest Ball than pretty dresses and bright-eyed young men. I am a woman of Bingtown, and a Bingtown Trader and I know such things. Not your father. So keep your peace about this, or you will lose what you have gained." Then her mother had stalked out of the breakfast room, not even giving Malta time to argue. Not that she would have.

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