Queen of the Sea and Sky 5

She woke up after a particularly late night out with Red, feeling bleary. The time- oh no, she needed to run to make it to breakfast. Brianna wrestled her way into clothes before she was totally conscious and almost walked out in her socks.

There was a letter under the door.

'That's a first. She can write? What would she write?'

Brianna's heart didn't know what to do with that information. It was fluttering way up in her throat where it didn't usually live.

She bent to pick the envelope up- ah. She looked at the front, and laughed at herself a little. It was from Imile. Of course it was.

'I didn't know that I was such an optimist. Red doesn't even know what language she speaks. She definitely can't write.'

Brianna sat on the bed and unfolded the paper. It was short and to the point, but handwritten rather than typed. That was a nice bit of personalization, considering how busy Imile had to be.

It was an invitation, requesting that Brianna meet Imile in her office if she was interested in helping on a business trip. She tilted her head and considered it. Was it supposed to be today, instead of rehearsal work? Her two days off were right after that, so she was reluctant to do anything that would keep her away from the Lady for three days running. The thought of Red waiting for her... it made Brianna feel a little sick. Maybe if she'd had a chance to tell Red about it before, but just not showing up? That wasn't fair.

But the offer was interesting, and more than a bit flattering. Why would Imile want Brianna to come with her? And anyways, if Imile was gone, practice would probably just be cancelled. You can't rehearse without a director. So she wouldn't have an opportunity to meet with Red anyway. She might as well go.

When Brianna realized there wasn't an option that involved her getting to her liaison, that simplified her thinking. There wasn't any strong reason to not go. And she was really curious about why Imile wanted her to come along, other than the fact that Imile knew for certain that she was free.

It could really only be two things- professional or personal. Either Imile wanted Brianna there for some reason involving a perspective that Brianna could provide, or she just wanted company and she liked Brianna's.

'She has been friendlier lately. I think.' 

She pulled on ankle-length heeled boots, brushed her hair out, and took the letter with her to breakfast to think it over. She kept looking at it, looking at Imile's handwriting. That was a personal touch, and she thrilled just a little bit. Imile was cool as all hell, and it made her feel warm and smug that Imile would want to spend time with her in particular.

'I'm going,' Brianna decided. She folded the letter and tucked it into the long pocket of her dress. 'It would be dumb to pass on the opportunity to bond with my boss.'

She had to ask directions, but it didn't take too long to find Imile's office not too far from reception and the entrance. It was way nicer than any office she'd been in before. She tried not to gawk at the fish tank separating the waiting area from the next room. It was enormous. The bottom was piled with what sure looked like precious stones. There was a series of model sunken ships, mermaids, and a glittering underwater volcano. The school of silver fish was almost superfluous.

The receptionist gave her a look of amused pity over his computer screen.

Brianna tried a little harder to seem unimpressed, because clearly she hadn't been doing it well enough.

“You can go in.”

The door opened easily. Imile's actual office looked pretty normal, which was kind of a relief. It wasn't overwhelming, at least, what with the off-white walls and completely standard grey-blue carpet. It had a few bookshelves, a pale wood desk, and two comfortable chairs. The only weird thing was another door in the room, but it was closed.

Imile looked up with a smile. She stood from her desk and brushed her hair back. “I'm glad that you could make it.” She looked especially prim in a plain black suit, as though she'd been stuck in meetings all day.

Brianna felt her tension relaxing, just a bit. The weird thing was that Imile actually did seem pleased.

“I'm interested in what you have in mind,” she admitted. She let the door to the receptionist close behind her. “Where are we going? Is it just the two of us?”

“It is only us,” Imile confirmed. She cast a glance towards the wall separating them from the outer office. Her volume dropped, but her tone remained factual. "This trip is not, strictly speaking, for only work purposes.” 

She felt her eyebrows shoot up. "I see." Brianna laced her fingers behind her back. She thought about it for a moment. "You must be stir crazy. You've been up here way longer than I have, and there's probably not many places where the boss can relax on the premises."

Imile blinked at her. "That's... yes, you're right." She cracked a faint, genuine smile. "Which is why I would like to head out the metaphorical back door, and have a nice evening out. I know that you have also been working long hours, and unable to socialize at usual times. I thought that you might like to join me." She took a step back and opened the mysterious door. It swung open to show mint green walls and dark wood shelves. 

'I'm pretty sure that literally is a backdoor. Where is the metaphor?' 

Luckily, Imile didn't seem to know how dopey Brianna's mental commentary was. “The trip is not wholly pretense. I do have an engagement to attend an auction tonight in hopes of acquiring an interesting piece I have been watching for a while. But I would send someone to go on my behalf, if I did not enjoy going.” She took a step onto the wooden floor and gestured for Brianna to walk around the desk to follow. "This way, if you don't mind."

“That seems reasonable to me.” Brianna couldn't help but steal peeks at the photos on Imile's desk as she passed. There was some kind of grand opening with a lot of people in suits, Imile in a gown next to her tuxedo-clad brother, and Imile posing with some people in khakis in front of a lion cage. Imile was wearing red high heels and a white pants suit. Why was that woman so powerful? What possible occasion landed those four people in the same place with that big cat and such disparate sartorial choices?

'It's good to have a new mystery. The one with the apparently metaphorical door was resolved way too quickly.'

The room she followed Imile into had to be part of Imile's private suite, Brianna realized. Imile stored at least part of her wardrobe in the room directly accessible from her office, which made some sense. There was a changing area behind curtains, displays of accessories, and a vanity table. One wall was decorated with mirrors.

“Have you ever been to an auction?” Imile waited to close the door behind them.

“Um.” Brianna thought about it. She strongly suspected that this was not a lot like auctions for tractor parts, out in the dusty sun. “No,” she decided. But she could always say she was wrong, if they went to the auction and found some Methodists selling bars in a church basement while the fire department offered hot dogs and access to a bathroom to all the farmers.

Imile made a polite sound of comprehension. “I hope that you'll enjoy it, then. I'll try to share what I enjoy about the experience.”

'Why is she telling me this? Is this a friendship? I feel like I would have noticed if we were friends.'

"I'm sorry that I didn't give you enough notice to plan properly." Imile clicked her way in front of the biggest mirror and ran her fingers over a drawer.  "It didn't seem especially prudent to write down details in a letter that I did not personally watch only you receive. As a rule, I try not to write down anything at all that could be used to paint me as irresponsible or playing favorites." She glanced at Brianna with a sideways look and a little commiserating shrug. "Telling you to fetch an outfit from your personal storage unit would have been unnecessarily ostentatious, I believe. The employee lounge is always occupied and it is just best not to provide gossip."

Apparently they were friends.

“But again, that was my decision and I am sorry that I did not give you enough notice and information.” Imile gestured to the section of the walk-in closet she had apparently stocked for the occasion. “Please, choose anything that you like from my things.” Imile plucked the hanger from the end, which had a pink and white ensemble. “I'll duck back into my office to change. Please, use the dressing room.”

The door shut behind Imile quietly. Brianna turned her attention to the closet and stepped in close enough to start examining clothes. She felt awkward about even touching them. She didn't know enough about fashion to identify what the fabrics were, but she could tell they were high-quality.

'That's not the point. I just don't want to make Imile wait for me. We probably have a schedule to keep. I'll just pick anything, it doesn't matter.'

Okay, easy enough. A dress, a skirt, or slacks? She pushed three outfits to the side based on the colors. She could never tell if she was rocking a red shade or if it made her look sick, so it was just best not to even try. And she didn't want to look sickeningly matchy-matchy in white and pink with Imile. After that, eliminating outfits was harder.

She had to pull her hands back and just breathe calmly.

Brianna felt like she should be keeping her hands in her pockets. It made her feel like when she'd gone to buy outfits for performances or interviews- when she bee-lined to find the cheapest possible item that suited the occasion. Like feeling hideous and embarrassed just to be there surrounded by nice things. Feeling out of place.

Life was just shit, okay? Even thinking too much about it made her stomach sick with shame. Shopping was so awful. She had to save and borrow and do degrading shit like selling her plasma and she had to walk past people casually browsing through the racks. She had gone literal fucking years without buying clothes before, because who the hell could justify clothes when they couldn't eat? Maybe no one else knew she didn't belong when she went to a store, but she thought they did. If for no other reason, than because of her weird, miserable skulking behavior. She was jealous and resentful that other people could just go and buy things, she was unhappy but proud because she was doing her fucking best, she suspected that everyone around her was just inherently better and more worthwhile than her and she was always going to look like garbage in ill-fit, dirty clothes that had never been in fashion because no one gave a shit about her.

'Get your shit together,' Brianna told herself. She gritted her jaw and tried not to hate herself too much. 'You're not a kid. You're not dirty. This is normal. A friend is lending me clothes so that we can go to an event together. I wear clothes that I didn't buy all the time. It's just another costume. Like what I wear everyday. My boss is giving me an outfit that is appropriate for the situation she wants to me attend. Don't be such a freak.'

Looking at the pristine array of things she would never own or deserve just made her feel sad and low. It felt like she was being pitied, or bought. And it was nothing to Imile! She was just lending an outfit.

...That didn't really make her feel any better.

'I read a story in junior high school, I think.' 

Brianna pulled a purple dress off the bar and chose not to agonize any more about options. It didn't matter. She laid it on the chair and shut the curtain. She contorted to unbutton her top. 

'A woman borrowed jewelry from her friend, lost it, and then worked herself to the bone the rest of her miserable life to pay it back. And then when she was old she found out that the necklace was just costume jewelry and basically meant nothing to the other woman. I'm pretty sure that it was a necklace, anyway. It could have been a ring or a bracelet.'

Huh. She let her outfit slide to the floor and put a hand on the necklace she wore everyday. Then she shook herself and took the purple dress off the hanger. She set it on the chair.

Was now a good time to wear that necklace? She was supposed to wear it, like, all the time. But that probably didn't apply on her break times. And this wasn't work. Therefore, it was a break. She bent to gather up her still-warm clothes and put them on the empty hanger.

For a long moment, Brianna stood in her underwear and considered the heavy dress she'd taken off. It did look better when she wore it with the statement necklace. She played with the fastener at the back of her neck. Did it suit the purple dress? It was a lot more modern, and nicer material.

...Fuck it. She slung the jewelry around the hanger with her daywear and tried to think about other things to climb out of the sadness spiral before she saw Imile again. Her mind settled on the odd picture of glam Imile with the big cat in a cage- what was that about?

'Maybe she's a recreational hunter. That's a thing rich people do, right?'

That didn't seem like Imile's style, but she didn't really know the other woman. Brianna put her left hand on her hip and used her right to push the zipper up her mid-back. Then she bent her arm down backwards to pull the zipper up the last stretch towards her neck.

She grabbed the full hanger and stepped back into the open closet. Imile was already there, using a mirror and side table to put on earrings. Imile's blonde head moved slightly when she walked in, so she definitely noticed Brianna coming back in. She held her head high and pretended not to realize she was being watched as she put the hanger back up. She didn't know what to do next.

Imile got the second earring in and turned around. She pursed her lips in consideration. “You're a size 7.5 shoe, yes? I wear an 8. The fit won't be nice, but I have a pair of heels that should match that dress. They're in the second drawer over there. Next to the cashmere scarf- the green one- yes, that's it.”

Against her will, Brianna found that she was gradually relaxing. Imile was just so factual about getting ready and leaving that it began to feel okay again. Instead of leaving through the office, she followed Imile through a hallway that lead out of Imile's suite near the elevators. And- fun fact, apparently there were service elevators. That made sense, it was just...

Brianna stole a glance at Imile, dressed as prettily as any doll, kicking one kitten heel back against a bare metal elevator.

'Actually, never mind. This looks like a photo shoot making some kind of point that I'm not edgy enough to understand.'

“What?” Imile looked mischievous. “No one expects me to be here. This is usually used to transport the recycling and bring up deliveries.”

“I bet that they don't,” Brianna agreed. She cracked a smile. “You like to avoid the questions?”

Imile nodded. “Of course.” She let out a pretty little huff and it was by far the least graceful thing Brianna had ever seen her do. “It is difficult to do everyday things within a business that you own. It's better just to not let them see you being human.”

Brianna laughed. The elevator jerked and made a horrible humming sound as it worked them down, down, down. It pushed a sick feeling into her stomach, but- "I'm glad we aren't using the guest elevators," she admitted. "The glass view is enough to give me nightmares."

Imile hummed. "It is tacky." She leaned against the wall. "Raising the ship was a financially sound decision, believe it or not, despite the technical challenges. Buying a large enough plot in a developed city would have been a nightmare, and the isolated location serves as both advertising and a significant reasoning for curious guests to choose to stay in our hotel for convenience." She sighed. Her voice went flat. "But looking out is a stress that I do not need. I try not to think about the suspension system too much." 

That didn't imply that Imile really liked thinking about the risks, but she couldn't help it-

"Isn't it kind of strange that the sky location has reintroduced the same risks that got everyone killed in the sinkings?" Brianna frowned. "I mean. How would we evacuate if something actually went wrong? We aren't going to freeze in water if we jump overboard, sure, but the trade-off risk is not favorable." Splat.

Imile snorted and pushed her hair back. She had three piercings in that ear, two of which Brianna had never noticed before just now. 

Brianna stared. 

"You're completely correct." Imile didn't seem to notice her stare. "I pay very fine engineers more than my brother appreciates so that we hopefully never have to deal with that. I suppose that in the worst situation, I'd be too deceased to have any lawsuits brought against me, so at least that brings me comfort."

She had to laugh at the dry tone Imile used. "The captain goes down with the ship?"

"Oh, absolutely," Imile agreed instantly. She cleared her throat with a head shake. "If I die here, I'll have plenty of ghostly company. That sounds quite nice, doesn't it?"

Wait, what? Brianna felt her forehead crease. 

Well. Imile certainly knew that if the ship fell to the city below it would be dashed against buildings and fall apart and therefore she would not get to enjoy eternity on a cruise ship. It was just a joke.

When they made it down to the ground level, Imile led them even further down into the parking garage. Brianna knew next to nothing about cars, but the one Imile unlocked was a sleek dark blue car with a white interior. It was nice, if a bit dusty. Imile wrinkled her nose when they got in and chose to drive with the windows down. "Let's do dinner first, if you don't mind?" She leaned forward a bit to check visibility before she pulled out onto the street. "I know that it is a little early-"

"It's fine," Brianna said. She watched traffic and held onto the door tightly. There was just a lot going on and it made her feel a little ill to look at it after so long without the constant stimulus of hundreds of flashing lights and cars and bikes and pedestrians. 

Imile wasn't a conversational driver. Which was good, because she didn't feel up to much more than closing her eyes and trying to enjoy the sunshine on her skin. She took them to a restaurant that Brianna had never heard of and gave her keys to a young woman waiting outside with an apron and a smile.

The restaurant looked fancy, but not fancy-fancy, Brianna decided. A place that was actually fancy probably wouldn't be trying so hard. She and Imile took up a table for four. Imile put her purse on the free chair beside her. Brianna folded her hands on her lap and eyed the light fixtures. They were a bit excessive in number and sparkly dangle-bits. 

'I think the interior designer needs to calm down just a bit. But you can definitely see that they tried hard. They tried real hard. It's good to care about your appearance, I guess.'

The waiter sort of hovered, trying to hand over a menu. The glossy gold shade was a match for the lower halves of the walls.

Imile waived him off. "We'll start with garlic bread, Caesar salad, and I'd like an iced tea. Im driving but Brianna, a drink?"

"Ah." She blinked through a quick assessment of what she wanted. Well. "Yes, red wine."

The waiter nodded and tucked the menu against the side of his black slacks. "As for the main course, shall I leave a menu with you?"

"No, thank you." Imile gave him a cool smile. "That's not necessary."

"Alright then." He whisked away. Brianna watched him go for a moment, long strides eating up the red carpet. 

Imile seemed to confirm that they were unobserved before she relaxed enough to put her arms on the table. She had long, delicate fingers with joints that protruded slightly and unpainted nails. Total piano hands.

"What do you think?" There was a smile hidden under her voice.

Brianna made a point of looking around slowly, pursing her lips. "Do they have enough mirrors?" She frowned. "It just needs... something. Hard to say what."

"Perhaps a fountain." Imile tapped the table. "The decor flirts with the danger of subtlety."

"That would be terrible," Brianna agreed, wondering why Imile had picked this place. Maybe it was better that she hadn't seen the menu because the food here was definitely going to be absurdly priced. 

'Ah. Maybe that's why Imile didn't want a menu at the table.'

She resolved not to think too much about it and ordered Imile's recommendation for her entree when the waiter returned with their drinks and appetizers. Salad is as salad does, but the garlic bread- Brianna tried not to get too teary-eyed about it. Fresh, hot bread with a thin ring of crispy edge and a mile of soft, buttery center... She ate it way too quickly and looked up in time to see Imile move to delicately lick her fingers. Her eyes widened when she realized she'd been caught. Imile paused, and then wiped her fingers on her napkin as though that had always been the plan.

Brianna decided not to comment. It didn't need explanation: garlic bread, man. Garlic bread. 

"May I ask you something?" Imile laid the napkin down, smoothing out any wrinkles. She glanced back at Brianna through her eyelashes.

"Of course." Brianna crossed her ankles under her seat. "What are you thinking about?"

Imile took her time. "You often linger in the museum after hours." Her tone was neutral, but Brianna still felt her body tense. "I don't mind it, of course. I have often enjoyed doing something similar. But I was wondering about your motivations." Her eyes were sharp and intent and it felt like she was seeing way too much.

She curled her toes in until the tension became uncomfortable. She swallowed. What was there to say? She didn't want to lie, but she also did not want Imile to think that she was unhinged.

'I feel sick.'

"I like it at night." Brianna bit her lower lip and felt so, so weird about how intensely Imile was watching her. "It's always pretty, but I like it better at night. In the day, there's all the guests coming through and it kinda breaks my suspension of disbelief?" No, that wasn't exactly right. "I don't like the juxtaposition of all the modern-looking people coming through gawking," she decided. "I know it's a museum, but it feels more peaceful and correct when the only people around are the dead kind. I don't have anything against the living, but they're dissonant."

Imile blinked, and the spell was broken. She let out a startled laugh. "You- you prefer the ghosts to the people?"

It sounded weird, but Imile seemed more disbelievingly delighted than offended. Brianna gave a shrug and looked at Imile sideways, smiling just a bit. "I think they're cool," she said. "Some of them are really interesting. I kind of wish I understood them better."

"Really." Imile's eyebrows shot up. "You don't find them- depressing, or unnerving?"

Brianna shook her head, and then she had to brush her hair back over her shoulders. "Not really. They're just people. Everybody dies. It doesn't seem like they're suffering or anything. If eternity is just walking around reliving your last few days, I think there are much worse places to spend it than on a luxury ship."

"I would have to agree." Imile's spine straightened, which was how Brianna knew someone else was nearby. 

She glanced over to see a different waiter seating a party of three. They weren't close enough to hear, so she dismissed them from her thoughts. 

"You say that some of them are very interesting." Imile sipped at her tea. Ice clinked. "Are there some in particular of which you are fond?"

"The one you showed me on the first day. The Red Lady," Brianna admitted. That wasn't a weird thing to say, even. "She's glamorous, isn't she?"

"She is one of my favorites as well." Imile's forehead creased. She set her drink down. "But she's a little elusive."

Brianna had to blink a few times. "What?" She tilted her head. "No, I see her almost every night."

Imile's attention laser-focused. "What?" Her tone was of polite disbelief. "I- Are you quite certain?" She looked baffled. She shook her head slightly. "I thought that things were going well with her some time ago- she has not actually been visible for a very long time," Imile explained as an aside. She leaned back in her seat. "I only began seeing her a month or so before you came, in fact." Imile frowned. "I had theorized... I assumed that the haunting hadn't taken and the spirit wasn't truly anchored here."

"Wow," Brianna said. She shook her head and fiddled with her salad fork. "No, she's definitely anchored. Here to stay." 

'Is she only able to be visible a certain amount of time? And she's spending it all with me now.'

Feeling a little guilty, Brianna managed a queasy smile. "I actually- part of the reason I like to stay late is that she comes almost every night."

A muscle moved in Imile's neck. She took a moment to speak. "I see." Her brows were drawn nearly together. "Every night- what time?"

"The time changes," Brianna said, because there was no reason to lie. "But it doesn't usually take very long after we finish for the night. Within ten minutes to half an hour. If it's longer than that, then I know she isn't coming."

"I see." Imile was very, very still. Then she rubbed at her forehead. "How very odd. I haven't heard of a ghost changing her patterns like that." She took in a deep breath and then managed a smile. "Thank you for telling me. That is fascinating. I wish I knew why that was happening. I told you, at first, that she was a dancer? Have you seen this?"

Brianna shook her head. "I've never seen any signs of that. Except that she's graceful." She shrugged again, feeling awkward. "And she is really pretty. It makes sense."

Imile didn't respond. When Brianna looked up, her expression was intense.

"What?"

"You can see ghosts in enough detail to make out their facial features?" She sounded fascinated.

"Um." Brianna wrung her fingers under the table. "Is that unusual?"

"Oh, yes," Imile agreed quickly. She tilted her head to the right and pursed her lips. "You must be..."

"I don't think it has anything to do with me," Brianna rejected. She cleared her throat. "I, uh. I can only see the Red Lady that well." She fidgeted. "It's probably just because I see her so often. Or maybe it's because there's something unusual or special about her."

"I... I see." Imile slid her hands under the table. "I..." She seemed to think it over. "That wouldn't surprise me," she decided. Her blue eyes were sparkling, and it was impossible not to smile when she made eye contact again. "That's fascinating. She does seem special, doesn't she?" There was an almost proud quality to Imile's voice.

Brianna smiled down at her hands, feeling shy. "She is special." It was hard to explain why. It wasn't about her being a ghost- although Red was obviously different from the other ghosts. There was just something about her that made her so nice to spend time with. She was calm and quick and even though she never said a word, it felt like she was sharing something just by spending time together.

"You already knew that, didn't you." Imile's lips weren't quite touching. She was leaning across the table to carry her voice without speaking up.

Well. Brianna nodded in the hush. "It's like... she's more present than the other ghosts," she said. Admitting it was a relief. "The Lady- she sees me." And Imile's eyes widened but she nodded, as though she wasn't surprised. Brianna felt her pace pick up. "I stay late because I like to spend time with her." She swallowed. "It sounds-"

"I know what you mean." Imile twisted a lock of hair around her fingers, gaze just a bit distant. "I- I had some interesting interactions with her before." She glanced at Brianna, and it felt like she was testing the waters just the same as Brianna. "Did she ever talk-"

"Not exactly." Brianna shook her head. "She interacts, and she can clearly understand me. But I can't hear her voice."

"That's amazing." Imile let out a little huff. "I wouldn't have guessed- I told you that she only appeared recently?" She barely waited for Brianna to nod. "I thought that it was connected to a curiosity- a token that I bought on impulse at an auction like the one we will go to tonight. It was nothing special except for the age- a pair of antique dance shoes in surprisingly good condition. That's rare because of course they usually got used until they were ruined and discarded."

"Oh," Brianna breathed. "That- that does make some sense."

Imile laughed. "It doesn't," she cheerfully disagreed. "I begin to despair that I will ever be able to put a name to the Red Lady. It was initially quite exciting, but there is no chance that these shoes were salvaged from either shipwreck. They would not have survived to the present day. So if the Red Lady was a passenger on this ship, she would have certainly not have been attached to those shoes and her appearance was a coincidence. But the timing really did indicate it was the dance shoes- as did the fact that as far as I believed, she stopped appearing after the shoes were donated to a museum. So I believed that she was tied to the shoes, that they had been hers in life." She lifted a hand to gesture to Brianna. "And then you tell me this."