Rose

Ch.19

      Baila was a miracle with hair. She had my hair curled with metal rod she heated with her magic. My hair was framing my face with a braid circling the crown of my head. It hang loosely in weaving length that now reached the back of my knees. She had put darling white flowers into the braid and ran some rose and cinnamon oil through my curls to loosen their coil slightly.

     I was dressed in a chiffon sheer sand colored dress. It was rounded at the neck and was almost sitting off the shoulder, it had long sheer sleeves that cinched at the crease of my arms and split open nearing my wrists. There were beads and gems of white and gold sewn randomly around the sheer fabric giving it a glimmering look. The bottom layer of fabric was an ivory color that made the sand color stand out even more. The waist had a bejeweled belt and the bodice was intricately beaded to accentuate a feminine body.

      The skirt was much the same except for the double slits that neared my hip on either side leaving me feeling rather exposed. Baila, however, offered me to wear stockings that were sheer black toned, giving my skin a polished and seductive appearance. She was smiling happily as she stood behind me in the mirror. I , however, looked vastly uncomfortable.

   "Is this truly the style, or are you just having fun with me like a doll?" I ask nervously as I fidget with my thumbs in front of my waist. Baila shook her head and gently placed her hand on one of mine and pushed it down to my side. She stood closer behind me and used her finger to lift my chin so I would look at myself in the mirror.

    "I make you look like a woman. No more innocent, child. You are woman, you must be proud of this fact." She says firmly as her eyes gleamed with pride and admiration of her work. I smile back at her and finally look myself in the eyes. I did feel more mature, I honestly felt sexy, dressed like this.

    "Back home it was not deemed appropriate for a lady to show so much skin around those who were not a maid, doctor, or her husband. But, I did ask you to make me look like a native Yahlen." I speak my train of thought as glide my hand down my bodice to my thighs.

    "Well, here, it is not considered rude to show skin. Showing skin can show others your past victories. Be it: illness, battle, or an attack. Any imperfections should be worn with pride, it shows you won the battle over whatever Ailed you." Baila was slow and gentle as she spoke. She was honest and did not seem to think my own worries were an offense of her culture. She took it in stride, she explained, and she made me understand their land better.

"I like that." I whisper as I look at her before gazing down at my feet. With a large intake of air I exhaled it quickly.

"Let's get this over with." I started, "Baila, lead me to the Queen." I finish with my voice wavering from the anxiousness I felt.

The anxiety and fear I had felt from being kidnapped, but the confusion added from how they treated me so kindly; was a potion for a slowly boiling pot that my overflow of not watched.

Baila bows her head and leads the way from my room and out into the sandstone corridors. She guides me through the snaking paths of mixing hallways. I was already swimming in my head from the confusion of it all. She nods and speaks greetings in a language, I don't quite understand, to the other maids and some guards. She seems well liked by many, as they all smile and excitedly respond to her.

"You are very loved here, baila." I whisper from behind her looking to the windows we were passing to be discreet. She glanced at me briefly before returning her stare straight ahead.

"I help those who need it. Some of us here struggle to make friends with native Yahlens. Many who work in the castle are refugees. We tend to stick together. The natives aren't rude but they are wary. It makes it hard to break the wall of self preservation." She informs me. I let that soak in as I nod along to her words.

Eventually we make it to intricately carved doors that are of a dark stain of Black. The carvings are of roses, stars, and gardens in a scene together. I glance at baila, but she was standing by the guard and she motions with her eyes for me to go ahead. I hold my breath and step forward so the guard would know to open the door.

    When the door opens I'm greeted by the smell of spun sugar and lilac. The room is bright and open with ceilings so high I bet they could host a flock of geese in the rafters of sandstone. Large columns were spaced evenly on either side of the room and at the opposite end of the room were large bookshelves with a rolling ladder nearly touching the heavenly height ceilings. A woman with long caramel hair was working diligently on paperwork, her back to me, as I approached. My footsteps clicking satisfyingly in the expansive quiet.

    "Hello Darling. I'll be a just a moment, Mi Rosa Elle." She spoke in a voice that was elegant and familiar. It gave me pause. For an odd reason I was experiencing Deja vu. But it fell away when she turned and, with rosy cheeks and a dimpled smile, spoke again.

    "My little Angel, how I've missed you."