The seamstress squints at her, taking measurements of her figure to make her dress for the debutante ball. She shrinks under the older woman's gaze, judgment scalding her skin.
"Stand up straight," the seamstress said. "I can't get your measurements if you slouch."
"I'm sorry," she mumbles. She stands still, anxiously waiting for the older woman to be done with her work.
Over the past half hour, she had been subjected to the snide remarks of the seamstress, all of which were beginning to get under her skin. Lillian hadn't been able to stand her, disappearing from her head altogether, leaving Nicole to deal with the seamstress's "helpful tips." The grumpy old woman had suggested that she cut back on sweets, which hadn't been so bad until she made a show of letting out the loudest gasp Nicole had ever heard when she took her hip measurements. From then on, the seamstress had told her to starve herself repeatedly so that not only would she slim down and lose all resemblance to a pig, but her blemishes would also fade by "some miracle of God."
To say that her feelings were hurt was an understatement. Even in her former home dimension, she had trouble meeting society's beauty standards.
"You should aspire to be like a fragile lily," the seamstress continued. "Delicate and pale. And might I recommend some nightshade for your eyes? It would make them look brighter."
The older woman's words were like hot oil pouring down her ears. She balls her hands into fists, resisting the urge to cry. She had been so busy serving Lillian when she first arrived at the Charis Realm and distracted by the ensuing events that she had forgotten how insecure she was about her body. She stares in the mirror, watching her reflection distort into a hideous version of herself.
You've tolerated literal torture. So why does this hurt so much?
"I don't see anything wrong with the lady," Cedric interrupted, entering the room. "In fact, I think that she's got the brightest eyes I've ever seen."
She blushes, flattered by the Lord's compliment. But her smile falls from her face just as quickly as it appears. "Pretty eyes" was the compliment given to unattractive women. After all, who would have the gall to say someone was born with ugly eyes?
"My Lord," the seamstress said, quickly crumpling into a curtsy. "How kind of you to visit us. While the lady's eyes are certainly the most manageable part of her appearance, you can't expect her to attract a bevy of suitors looking as she does now."
"While I appreciate your assistance with the lady's appearance," Cedric said, struggling to keep the malice out of his voice, "you're only paid to make the dress."
"But my Lord-"
He gives her a withering glare. "Or shall I find myself another seamstress?"
The older woman gulps. "No, my Lord. I'll take my leave now that I've finished with the lady's measurements." She scurries out of the room, eager to escape her embarrassment.
"You didn't have to do that," Nicole said, still facing the mirror. Cedric walks up to her, confused.
"Why shouldn't I? I'm paying that woman to make you look good."
"You don't understand," she said. "That woman was right. I'm not pretty enough. Even if I did starve myself or give up sweets, the moment I walk into that ballroom, no man will look at me."
And even you don't look at me like a woman, she thought. I'm just a sister to you and we aren't even related!
"That seamstress is a bitter, old spinster. She doesn't know what she's talking about."
YOU ARE READING
Hand of the Goddess ✔️
FantasíaIf you had the choice to escape your life, would you? That was what Nicole was offered one night when a mysterious woman named Lillian appears in her room. Lillian gives her a deal: kill a demon and she would cure her cat's cancer and make her life...
