Descendants of the Kings (Book 2)

Ch 55: House Llyr

"How long am I meant to hold this?"

Ella sat crosslegged before a mirror, pressing two cold silver spoons against her eyes. Behind her, Katram knitted the top section of her hair into intricate braids.

"As long as it takes to get those dark circles to be gone, Miss," Katram muttered through the silver pin she held between her teeth. "You should have told me you couldn't sleep. I would have made you my special tea."

Ella removed the spoons from her eyes and gave Katram an apologetic look through the mirror.

When she'd seen her this morning, Katram had almost had a fit. With good reason, too. Ella's skin was waxy, and her eyes were puffy and red, lined with deep shadows. Not sleeping for the better part of a week tended to have that effect.

"I'm sorry. I've just been a little worried about the ball and all the preparations for my debut," she lied.

Katram patted her shoulders and squeezed affectionately. "You will do wonderfully, Miss. Everyone will adore you. What's not to love?"

Plenty, Ella though. But she painted on a smile and nodded, leaning back into Katram's hug momentarily. "Thank you, Kat."

"Now, don't worry about your eyes. I know just the thing. When I am done with you, you shall look as fresh as a rose."

She'd have to work a miracle, but Ella trusted Katram could manage it. Through sheer stubbornness, as usual.

Katram finished pinning the braids in place with diamond-topped silver pins, letting the rest of her hair fall in sleek waves. Then, she had Ella turn around and began to apply her embellishments.

Rosewater to cleanse her skin, creams to make it soft and dewy. Shimmery silver-white powder on her lids and the high points of her cheekbones. Crushed rose petals on her cheeks to bring colour, and two coatings of paint to darken and lengthen her curled lashes.

"May I do my lips myself?" Ella asked, blinking her eyes open.

"Of course," Katram passed her the tiny pot of paint. It was a glossy carmine, made of beeswax and crushed petals.

Ella turned and peered into the mirror. She stared at her reflection in awe. Katram had applied all manner of paints on her face, but she'd somehow managed to make it look subtle and natural. An artform, if there ever was one.

Her skin looked soft and plump, her cheeks rosy, no trace of the previous puffiness. Her eyes, despite her lack of sleep, look bright and alert. One would never have guessed that Ella had been miserable the past few days.

She leaned forward and delicately traced the outline of her lips with the thin brush. Her heart-shaped cupid's bow and the slightly plumper bottom lip.

It was the one part of getting ready Ella liked the most. It reminded her of when she was little and her mother would let Ella sit on her lap whilst she got ready for events. When she was done, she would spray perfume on Ella and dab a little rouge on her lips. It always made her feel beautiful and mature.

Ella used a handkerchief to dab the excess paint from her lips, swallowing a lump in her throat. Today, she missed her mother a little more than usual.

"You look beautiful, Miss," Katram beamed, squeezing her shoulders.

"All thanks to you," Ella smiled softly, pushing past her musings to focus on the present.

"Nonsense. I've merely emphasised your natural beauty," she waved her off. "Now come, let's get you into your dress."

The dress was a grand affair, one that even Ella couldn't help but be a little excited about. It was a dress pulled from the castle vaults, belonging to her late grandmother. With permission from Callan, a modiste had altered it to fit Ella, giving it a few touches here and there.