"You can come in. Emerald right?" Naama had returned to her room, a small area that over time she had made fully her own. Part of their instruction was learning the domestic arts in addition to the pleasurable arts. While all girls were required to be instructed in all the domestic arts, once they celebrated their thirteenth year they could begin deciding which ones they would continue to pursue and which ones they would continue only to practice without instruction.
While it was emphasized that the best and wealthiest patrons most capable of protecting them and providing them with a good life preferred well rounded girls, many of the charges in the inner courtyard slacked off on practicing the domestics that they weren't as capable at or just didn't care for. Over time some stopped practicing several arts entirely usually to their detriment. Naama knew one girl who had accepted a patron the previous year who had been passed over by several top prospects first. Each had been initially drawn to the girl because of her stunning beauty and reputation for skill in the bedroom but had not proposed a contract because she had not been capable at several domestics she was requested to perform during the welcoming ceremony. She'd finally had to accept a patron whose patron fee was barely moderate and now was said to live in a small home without the comforts that the wealthy patrons could provide.
Naama was one of the few who was exceptionally talented at a number of domestics and at least passably talented at the rest. Her room reflected this and while she never meant it to show off, the cumulative effect over the years displayed her talent flawlessly. She could not help feeling pleased as she saw the girl look around with an expression of wonderment. Intricately embroidered cloths covered the bedside table and small dresser while almost every inch of the wall was covered in paintings, calligraphy, poetic verse, and hand framed sheets of music for several instruments, all of which Naama played. Her bed was covered in a bright woven coverlet boarded in hand made lace, produced over the course of a year on one of the three looms that belonged to the Sisters of the Inner Courtyard. Small swatches of colorful cloth made into a collage also hung in a frame which had been taken from the hem of the borrowed dresses she'd worn to dances and singing recitals, an honor given to only the girls who'd acquitted themselves the best in each demonstration. Other items that characterized her talent and interests rested on surfaces throughout the room, bringing her a sense of familiarity and home coming each time she returned here.
"I heard you were the most talented girl ever in the domestic arts, but I didn't really understand," Emerald said as she moved towards a painting of one of the courtyard's gardens bathed in the blushing pinks and oranges of sunset. She moved to another painting. "Is this the seaside? Is that really how it looks?" she asked without taking her eyes from the painting of the back of a girl seated alone at the water's edge, the rolling tip of a wave at the very end of it's journey inland just touching the toes of one foot before being pulled backwards again. "Is that you?" With this question Emerald turned to look with awe at Naama.
Naama laughed. "Oh it was meant to be I suppose. I don't know what the seaside really looks like, I just read a lot and over time that was the impression that formed in my head. It probably looks nothing like that. It's just what I was in my imagination."
"I read a lot too," the girl said bashfully as she moved on to look at a poem composed by Naama and written in beautiful calligraphy in royal blue upon parchment paper. An exercise from class her instructor had been effusive about in his praise.
"Which of the domestic arts are your favorites?" Naama asked trying to put the girl at ease. Truth be told she wasn't exactly sure how to start the conversation the girl was here for.
"I guess I like all of them at different times. It just depends on the mood I'm in. Right now it's embroidery and music," Emerald replied matter -of -factly, without seeming ego.
"What instrument do you play?"
"The Kitharis," she replied. The kitharis was a stringed instrument believed to be modeled on the ancient Greek lyre. It was the most demanding of instruments and thus only a scarce handful of girls ever took it up. "You do as well, don't you?" She turned to Namma with a look she could only describe as needful hope.
"This girl craves a friend, someone to confide in, to trust. She's probably puts the other girls off with her versatility,"
Naama thought, something to which she was unfortunately familiar. She thought of how lonely she had been growing up when the other girls had invited each other to their rooms when allowed, leaving Naama out. "
That is why the High Priestess has sent her to me. She doesn't want her to go through what I have."
Then and there Naama committed herself to helping the girl however she could and if it meant sharing her most personal, most intimate of experiences and thoughts she would do so.
"Yes," Naama replied. "I heard another girl play when I was first brought here and it was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard. I pledged someday I'd be able to play it, as well. It's also said to be a favorite of patrons. The vibrations are said to be. . . invigorating." Naama thought to turn the conversation to the topic in question. Emerald lowered her eyes, a flush stealing across her cheeks. "How very much like me," Naama thought.
"Why don't we sit." Naama gestured to the tiny sitting area by the fireplace, a luxury only a few of the girls enjoyed based on the luck of the draw as far as empty rooms available when a girl arrived. They were almost never lit as firewood was exceptionally hard to come by and what was able to be had usually went to the High Priestess and Lower Priestesses. Yet today the High Priestess had given Naama a few pieces of wood, perhaps to warm the room and make the words flow easier. She knelt and lit the kindling beneath the logs, then returned to her chair where she sat wondering how to start the conversation. She needn't have worried for before she could come up with an opening, Emerald asked in a soft voice, "Does it ever get any easier? The choosing?"
Naama took a moment before answering. "I think it's different for each of us, especially the first choosing. At least it was for me. The other girls didn't seem to have a problem. But for me. . ."
Emerald looked at her expectantly. Naama took a deep breath, let it out and began to talk. She told Emerald all that lead up to that day with the High Priestess and moved forward in time.
"Seeing the outer courtyard at night was far different from how it appeared during the day. At first I was frightened because there was no great market that I could hide my hesitancy within. But then as I carefully gazed around I noticed hardly anyone was still out and those that were seemed already paired. The relief I felt was palpable. That is what probably let me relax enough to open myself up to him when he came along." Here Naama paused and got up to make tea. When it was done and each had their cup, she took a sip and continued.
"He wasn't handsome as such, more boyish with straight blond hair and blue eyes the color of cobalt. I had stopped to rest on the stone wall that circles the great middle garden just as the moon first appeared. Suddenly I heard a male voice say,
"You know, some believe if you wish on the first star you see at night, the wish will come true."
