The Fall of Ossard by Colin Tabor Read Free Book Online

glass of the Sunroom. The rest of the plantings were made up of thick clusters of manicured roses, all perfectly pruned and magnificent in colour. Beneath them spread the soil of their beds, lying dark and moist, to peek from under a frosting of spent petals. The beds lay strung about to create between them large spaces amidst the paving for tables and chairs. All in all, with a variety of vibrant colours and luscious perfumes, the Rose Garden was a wonder.
    All of it, its layout, colours, plantings, and the way it mixed with the sky’s blue saw me sigh, yet it lacked something…
    Alas, where was Pedro Liberigo!
    Our uniformed host led us towards the cliff wall, to a table being prepared by more blue-coated staff. In a moment we were seated, the ladies first, each with our chairs politely pushed in behind us amidst words of welcome.
    The other patrons ranged as a mix of Ossard’s wealthy, but weighted with youth. The majority were male and Heletian, though there was also a smattering of Flets and women.
    Many of the young men turned our way, some even getting to their feet and walking to the cliff wall to take in the view - a contrivance to enable them a closer look at the city’s latest mints. At this my thoughts of competing with Horseface and Heifer came back to haunt me: They ignored the other girls, I was the sole focus of attention.
    Me, simple miss Plainface!
    My cousin ordered drinks, something cool to soothe the bite of the sun. They arrived in beautiful glasses, iced, coloured with fruits, and all of it mixed with watered-down rum.
    Not long after, the gifted drinks began to arrive.
    The majority came to me. The first took me by surprise, the second saw me abuzz with proud pleasure, while those that followed set me to wonder if I’d drown in such generosities. Nonetheless, as the uniformed servers whispered in my ear whom each was from, I offered a coached smile of thanks, while everything was monitored by my chaperoning cousin.
    My mother had warned me to watch what was served, and never to take more than a sip from each. In particular, it was not unknown for men to send drink after drink to Mint Ladies in an effort to win their befuddled favour.
    The afternoon passed, and the staff began to move through the garden and light coloured lamps. It was then, after losing count of the drinks I’d accepted, that I began to feel quite flush and full and knew with certainty that I needed to get to a privy.
    I left our table accompanied by my cousin’s wife, she leading the way. In trying to follow her I found myself delayed by a group of well-watered merchants, they weren’t quick to pass or part as they took their time admiring the evening’s favourite mint. I blushed at their leers as I rushed after Isabella.
    The privy lay just off a small ladies’ lounge. After tending myself, it was in the lounge that Isabella and I freshened up, spoke of the afternoon, and giggled as we compared our dresses. It was then, as she referred to one of my fellow mints as Horseface , that I nearly died of laughter. Still, the next moment saw me breathless because of my undergarments tight laces.
    Isabella saw my discomfort. “Whatever’s wrong?”
    “My lacings are too tight, it’s rubbing me raw.”
    Before I knew it, she’d whisked me away to a side room to open the back of my dress.
    “The knot’s tighter than a Burvois merchant’s purse!” she cried.
    I realised then that her drinks hadn’t been watered down.
    She managed to open my dress and began fiddling about with my undergarment’s laces, all the while straining and cursing. The pressure being put on my chest and sides left me breathless. Worried, I gasped, “Just leave it, my mother can see to it later.”
    “Nearly there…”
    “Really, it’s not that bad.”
    “Almost…”
    In the next moment, as she strained, our voices were silenced by the angry growl of ripping fabric.
    I cried out.
    She whispered, “Oh my!”
    “What’s happened?”
    “It’s