Persephone

9. In Celebration

"The ball to celebrate your arrival!" Martha trilled happily, completely missing how dumbstruck Persephone was.

Leaning down she scooped up her fork and wiped it on the napkin provided, before placing it down again, suddenly unable to take another bite. Unease clenched Persephone's stomach. Why would they hold a ball for her? Why is was she here?

Seeing the look of distress on Persephone's face, Martha hurried, "I can not tell you exactly what it is for, those are not my details to tell. But I promise it will be explained to you tonight. Now, are you done your breakfast?"

Persephone looked forlornly at the barely nibble at plate of food. It was truly delicious, but with this sudden news, she wasn't sure if her stomach could handle anything else besides her anxiety and unease.

Taking that as a yes, Martha gently pulled her from her seat and into the ensuite bathroom.

The room was ornate and twice the size of any regular bathroom. The decor was all of a brassy gold and a crisp white. Standing in the corner was a gigantic claw foot bathtub, which, after leaving Persephone to stand in the doorway, Martha bustled over to and began to draw a bath.

Although to most people the news of a ball being thrown for them would render them ecstatic, but for Persephone, it only made her realize she knew absolutely nothing of her situation. She, first of all, had been kidnapped, by a man referred to as 'Alistair.' A man she assumed was quite powerful indeed considering the accommodations she had been given, a room fit for royalty and a maid nonetheless. She didn't know where she was or how she got there but she assumed she was quite far away from home because of how elaborate everything was and the fact a ball was being held here, which one would presume would happen in a place of great size. But she couldn't remember there being anything resembling a mansion anywhere near the small town she lived in. And what could a man with such power want with her? This may have been what frightened Persephone the most. This Alistair had gone out of his way to get her specifically, and she knew she mattered greatly to him in the very least because of this ball.

A thought struck her. If she was far enough away to be in a mansion of some sort, how long had she been gone?

"Martha?"

The older woman turned from the cabinet in the corner of the room where a variety of soaps and washes seemed to be held, "Yes, my dear?"

Persephone wrapped her arms around her small figure, feeling as though if she held onto herself physically, that she would be able to keep herself from falling apart, "H-how," she stopped, licking her suddenly chapped lips, "How long have I been here?"

Martha frowned, think for a second, "Well, everyone was notified of your arrival yesterday evening, so the preparations for the ball could be started. So, I assume Alistair brought you in only a little while before that."

"Oh," was all she could say, just because she had been here since yesterday didn't mean she had been gone for only a day.

The rest of the day went by in a blur for Persephone, hair products and brushes thrust into her hair, and different types of make up smeared onto her face, which she always wore bare. Soon she was slipping into the beautiful blue dress Martha had held up that morning, it fitting snugly in all the right places, almost as if it was made for her.

Standing in front of a floor length mirror, Persephone surveyed the work Martha put into her. She was almost unrecognizable, almost unreal. Persephone wondered how much of an impression she needed to make if this much work was put into her for just the night.

"I am so good," Martha murmured to herself just as a light knock sounded at the door.

Without waiting for it to be answered, the door swung open to reveal the breath-taking man from earlier.

"Show time, my love."