1
“Raine!” Kitt's eyes were wide as she stormed into the kitchen where her stepmother, in a sagging blouse, was shamelessly sucking on sticky sweets. A copious amount of cleavage surged from the top of Raine's shirt, and when she licked the chocolate from her fingers, her lips made an unnecessarily loud smacking noise. “Raine, have you seen my slippers?”
“Thank goodness you don't call me Mama anymore, girl.” Raine ran a finger under her eye, presumably to smooth a tiny wrinkle. “I'm only ten years older than you, you know. When you used to call me Mama, it was awkward.” The age gap was more like fifteen years, but Raine had a tendency to round down.
“I haven't called you that in ages,” Kitt pointed out. “And I don't think I'd call you that again. Ever.” Her nose wrinkled as she repeated, “Have you seen my slippers?” Kitt checked herself in the looking glass as she waited for her stepmother's reply—which was delayed by more sweets stuffed into the woman's flabby cheeks. She readjusted her gray newsboy cap, loosened the collar of her tie, and tugged on her shirt ever-so-slightly. For a barmaid, she thought she looked rather posh.
When she finished chewing, Raine kicked up her feet on the table, as if flaunting the fact that she was wearing her stepdaughter's missing footwear. “They're right here on my own two feet. As you can see.”
“Well, I need them!” When Kitt tried to grab Raine's foot, her stepmother tucked her feet under the table, out of view. “I have to be at work in less than ten minutes!”
“That's too bad for you, dear. These are mine now. I've commandeered them.”
“That's not funny.”
“I'm not trying to be funny, Kitty!” Raine threw back her head and laughed, as loudly and snidely as possible. “I'm quite serious. I needed some shoes, so I took yours.”
“Well, can I have them back?”
“Can you have them back?” Raine leaned forward, resting her elbows against the table as she lit a long cigar. Her tight black ringlets, recently freed from their curlers, bounced as she shook her head. “Aren't you listening? I took them. They're mine. Mine. Don't be so selfish.”
“Selfish?” Kitt shrieked. “How am I being selfish? They're my slippers!” And they weren't even fancy. They were simple and gray, with a tiny hole over the little toe.
“And since we're discussing the topic of your selfishness, you've been avoiding a particular issue.” Raine took a drag from her cigar before jabbing it in Kitt's direction. “You're nearly twenty, girl. You should think about getting married soon. Or do you intend to be a burden on your poor, dear papa for the rest of your life?”
“Ha!” At first, the only answer Kitt could manage was shocked laughter. After taking a moment to gather her thoughts, she replied, “Of course I don't want to burden my father! But couldn't you also say I'm only twenty, so there's no need to rush?”
“I wasn't much older than you when I married your father, you know.” Raine dragged a hand through her curl-covered head. She looked exhausted, as if she couldn't believe the nerve of the girl. “By the time you are five and twenty, your options will be fewer... and as more time passes, fewer and fewer still. No man wants a wife who's approaching thirty when he could have a young lady of eighteen. It's something to consider.” She tapped her cigar against an old copper ash tray as she spoke. “Listen to me. Five years will pass very quickly, and suddenly you'll be a less than desirable option.”
“W-well...” Kitt hesitated. She was almost afraid to broach the topic. “What if I have no desire to marry? Ever.”
“And there it is!” Raine suddenly clapped her hands together. “There's that selfishness I spoke of! I swear, girl, it's as if you have no consideration for anyone but yourself!”
“You are the one who stole my shoes!”
“Get out of my sight.” Raine tried to wave her stepdaughter away with a flick of her hand. “I don't care to see your face right now... not when my head is throbbing like it is!”
“Hangover again?” As she asked the question, Kitt could practically feel the smug smile spreading across her face. It was hard to have pity for a woman who treated her so reprehensibly. “Well, I guess I'll go to work barefoot then.”
“Ah, now there's an idea! And it's the first good idea you've had all day.” Raine heckled Kitt as she left the house. “Perhaps it will teach you some damned humility!”
Barefoot and fuming, Kitt slammed the door behind her. As she strolled the dirty streets of Lundun, she swore she could feel the filth seeping into her skin with every step she took. The smog in the sky from all the steam engines was bad enough; now the bottoms of her feet were turning black. Tears glowed in Kitt's eyes as she approached the softly-burning street lamp where she was supposed to meet Tobias. He was already waiting for her, which was no surprise. No matter how punctual she tried to be, Tobias was always the one waiting for her.
“There you are!” exclaimed Tobias, as if he had been standing there for ages. When his gaze dropped from her eyes to her feet, Kitt suppressed a groan. “Wait... where are your slippers?”
“Stolen.” When she heard the sharp warning whistle from a nearby steam train, she grabbed Tobias' arm and pulled him in the direction of the station. The whistle was to let them know there was little time to board. Maybe she was later than she realized? “They were stolen by my stepmother, no less.”
“Why?” Tobias' brow furrowed as he sprinted to keep up with her. For someone rather short, his friend could move quickly. “No offense, but your slippers were hardly... quality.”
“Every time someone starts a sentence with no offense, how do they always end up saying something offensive?” Kitt simultaneously rolled her eyes and sighed.
“But I didn't mean anything by it, Kitt! I sw-swear I didn't! It's not like either of us has got fancy things!” As if to prove his point, Tobias tugged on his tattered red necktie, from which there dangled a tarnished silver pocket watch. “So why did your stepmum steal your shoes?”
“I don't know. Why does Raine do anything she does? Probably to make my life miserable.” As they climbed aboard the train, she caught two people glancing dubiously in the direction of her feet. “Now she thinks I should get married soon.”
“R-r-r-really?” His stammer was intensified by shock. When Tobias sat across from her on the train, his face was flushed. He hoped he wouldn't regret what he was going to say next. “Well... you could always marry m-m-me.”
“Oh, Tobias!” Kitt dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. “You're my best friend! Don't be ridiculous! Wouldn't it be too odd for us to marry? Besides, I'm sure my stepmother plans to marry me off to some rich old man... or... as rich as you can get when you're basically living in the slums.” Kitt flexed her dirty toes, which helped to remind her of her dire situation. Her family really was the poorest of the poor. “At least, I hope he'll be rich. I need to get out of this squalor.”
“Well, if you ever change your m-m-mind, you know I'm always here for you.” Tobias didn't dare to confess he was actually hoping to be her husband one day, not when she was so firmly against the idea.
Kitt studied Tobias's face across the table. She could think of worse fates than being married to her best friend. He was cute, at least, even if he was a bit younger than her—by a little over a year. His curly blonde mane was fluffy and wild, and a bit longer than her pixie cut. His face was still very boyish, and consumed by countless freckles. Kitt thought he looked too young and cherubic to be anyone's husband, let alone hers.
“Y-you marry me,” Tobias continued. “And we can work at Lucky's forever.”
“Yeah. That sounds like the happily ever after of my dreams!” Kitt briefly picked up a newspaper, ignoring the headline in large, bold letters: NOTORIOUS SKY PIRATE EMPLOYED BY ROYAL FAMILY. She leafed through the pages and, finding nothing to catch her interest, she quickly tossed it aside. “I wish you wouldn't even make jokes like that.”
“But it's not really a joke.” Tobias's shoulders popped into a shrug as he spoke. “Right now, I can't see myself anywhere but Lucky's... not because I love it, but because I don't have a lot of other options.”
“But there's got to be something better than this life...” Kitt responded quietly, peering through the smudged window as the steam train howled to life. “There's got to be.”