Chapter 28: Dancing

Maggie's final words hung in the air like a death knell. "Get out," she growled, her voice low and dangerous. "You've got until tomorrow morning to come up with something worth my time. If not, you'll be back on the streets where you belong. Now go."

Feeling as though the floor had dropped out from beneath her, Elara stumbled towards the door. Her mind was a whirlwind of shock, shame, and mounting panic. As her trembling hand grasped the handle and pulled, she was startled by a sudden yelp and flurry of movement.

Nell, who had evidently been pressed against the door in an attempt to eavesdrop, nearly toppled forward into the room. The younger woman caught herself at the last moment, her face a picture of wide-eyed surprise quickly masked by a poorly feigned air of nonchalance.

"Whoops! Bit of a slippery floor out here, innit?" Nell chirped, hastily grabbing Elara's arm and all but dragging her out of the room. The heavy door slammed shut behind them with a finality that made Elara flinch.

Nell didn't slow her pace until they were well away from Maggie's quarters, finally ducking into an alcove off one of the winding corridors. Only then did she release her vice-like grip on Elara's arm, turning to face her with an expression of burning curiosity.

"Alright then, spill it," Nell demanded, her eyes darting over Elara's ashen face. "What happened in there? You look like you've seen a ghost - and trust me, we've got plenty of those skulking about down here."

Elara leaned heavily against the wall, feeling suddenly drained. In halting tones, she recounted her disastrous meeting with Maggie - her ill-fated suggestions, the Matranker's furious response, and the ultimatum she now faced.

"Oh, duck," Nell breathed as Elara finished her tale. "You really stepped in it, didn't you? Trying to teach Maggie Doyle about the ways of the world... that's like trying to teach a shark how to swim."

Elara felt her eyes begin to sting with unshed tears of frustration and fear. "What am I going to do, Nell? I have until morning to prove my worth, or I'm out on the streets. And we both know I wouldn't last a day out there on my own."

To Elara's surprise, Nell's face split into a wide grin. "Hold up now, birdie. Did you say Maggie kissed you? Like, proper grabbed you in them beefy arms of hers?"

Confused by this apparent non sequitur, Elara nodded. "Yes, but what does that have to do with-"

Nell let out a whoop of laughter, clapping her hands together in delight. "Oh, you daft duck! Don't you see? If Maggie kissed you, you're golden! She only does that when she's welcoming someone into the family."

Elara blinked, struggling to process this information. "But... she was furious with me. She told me to get out, to come back with something worthwhile or leave for good."

"That's just Maggie's way," Nell said, waving a dismissive hand. "She likes to put the fear of God into newcomers, see what they're made of. But that hug? That means she sees something in you, even if she won't admit it yet."

Hope began to flicker in Elara's chest, but she remained cautious. "Are you certain? It seemed more like a threat than a welcome."

Nell's eyes softened, and she placed a comforting hand on Elara's shoulder. "Listen, birdie. I've been under Maggie's wing for years now. I know her ways better than most. That hug means you've got potential. She wouldn't waste her time otherwise."

Elara felt some of the tension leave her body, replaced by a cautious optimism. "So what do I do now?"

"Now," Nell said with a mischievous glint in her eye, "we figure out how to make you indispensable. Maggie's given you a challenge, and trust me, you don't want to disappoint her. But don't worry - we still have time to think of some ideas.

"Right then, me duck," Nell chirped, her eyes glinting with mischievous energy. "Let's get them noggin cogs a-turnin'. What sort of fancy doings can you muster up from that posh upbringin' of yours?"

Elara took a deep breath, forcing herself to think beyond the confines of her recent humiliation. "Well, as the heir to a noble family, I received extensive education in various subjects. I'm fluent in several languages - French, Latin, and a bit of Greek. I've studied literature, history, and philosophy extensively."

"Blimey," Nell interjected, scratching her head. "Sounds right proper, but I reckon our regulars ain't much for debatin' Plato over their grog, eh?"

Elara pressed on, determined to find something of value. "I'm also well-versed in etiquette and social graces. I can play the pianoforte and sing. I've been trained in proper deportment and dance."

"Ooh, now we're gettin' somewhere!" Nell exclaimed. "Might be some use in them nimble tootsies of yours. What else you got rattlin' 'round in that fancy cranium?"

"Let's see... I'm skilled in needlework and embroidery. I can read and write beautifully, and I'm quite good with numbers and basic accounting." Elara paused, thinking hard. "Oh, and I know a fair bit about heraldry and genealogy."

Nell's face scrunched up in thought. "Heraldry, eh? That's them fancy shields and whatnot, innit? Might be some use in that... lots of folk down here like to pretend they've got grand lineages."

As Elara continued listing her skills, Nell's eyes suddenly lit up. "Hold up, birdie! You said you can sing, right? And play music?"

Elara nodded, uncertain where this was going. "Yes, though I'm not sure how that would be useful in a tavern like the Anchor."

Nell let out a cackling laugh. "Oh, you daft duck! Don't you know music's the lifeblood of any proper boozer? Our current entertainer's about as melodious as a strangled cat, but the punters put up with him 'cause there ain't no one better."

Excitement building, Nell grabbed Elara's hands. "Picture this: you, all dolled up proper like, singin' sweet melodies and ticklin' them ivories. It'd class up the joint something fierce! Might even draw in a better class of customer, if you catch my drift."

Elara felt a glimmer of hope. "You really think Maggie would go for that?"

"It's a start, innit?" Nell grinned. "But let's not put all our eggs in one basket. What else you got? Any secret talents hidin' away in that noble noggin of yours?"

As they continued brainstorming, bouncing ideas off each other with growing enthusiasm, Elara felt her spirits lifting. Maybe, just maybe, she could find a way to belong in this strange new world after all.

"Listen here, me fine feathered friend," Nell said, her voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "We've got till the rooster crows to turn you from a faltered duchess into the Anchor's crown jewel. So let's get them peekies unbatted and that noodle of yours stewin' up a right proper plan to knock Maggie's socks off!"

With Nell's colourful encouragement spurring her on, Elara threw herself into the task of reimagining her skills for life in the Anchor. As the night wore on, their schemes grew increasingly elaborate, punctuated by Nell's raucous laughter and Elara's tentative smiles.

For the first time since her world had been turned upside down, Elara felt a spark of genuine hope. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but at least now she had a fighting chance - and an unexpectedly loyal ally in the irrepressible Nell.

As the day wore on, Nell and Elara continued to rack their brains for ideas, but their initial burst of creativity seemed to have run dry. The shadows lengthened across the dingy corridors of the Anchor, and still, they found themselves circling back to their original plan.

"Well, duck," Nell sighed, running a hand through her tousled hair, "seems like we've squeezed our noggins drier than a miser's purse. Might be best to focus on what we know for sure - that silver voice and those fancy feet of yours."

Elara nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and trepidation. "I suppose you're right. But Nell, I'm not sure my style of performance will be... appreciated here."

Nell's face split into a mischievous grin. "Only one way to find out, ain't there? Come on, let's give them tootsies a whirl!"

With that, she grabbed Elara's hand and practically dragged her through the winding passages of the Anchor. They finally arrived at a small, cluttered room that Elara assumed must be Nell's private quarters.

"Right then," Nell declared, pushing aside a precarious stack of what looked like stolen silverware to clear a small space. "Let's see what you've got, me fine feathered friend. Give us a dance, the fanciest one you know!"

Feeling somewhat foolish, Elara took a deep breath and assumed the starting position for a minute. As she began to move through the intricate steps, she couldn't help but feel out of place in the cramped, musty room. Her muscle memory carried her through the familiar patterns, but without music or a partner, the dance felt stilted and awkward.