Three Pretty Princesses

Chapter 5- Evalyn

Evalyn wondered why she had to be so sad in such a beautiful place. She gazed up upon the ceiling of her quarters. The Fable of the Gods was intricately painted on, using luscious shades of lavender, rose, and white. She recalled the Fable that her mother had hushed her to sleep with almost every night when she was younger.

Once upon a time the gods use to walk the world. Some scholars today maintain that these "gods" were really just powerful people, but the concept of gods is much more appealing to fable-writers.

All the gods were powerful, but none more so than Pektar the God of Bravery, Lozmus the God of Wisdom, and Typtris the God of Secrets. However, the mortals, upset with their ill treatment, rose against the gods, and ripped them from their glory. All except Typtris, who managed to survive with his cunning and deception. That is why the world is devoid of bravery and wisdom, yet filled with manipulation and secrets. The mural was truly the most lovely thing that she had ever seen in her life.

Evalyn kept on getting lost in the beauty of her surroundings.

Sometimes she would get lost in the rose-gold frame of the masterpiece above her bed that she would forget that her father was likely dead, and if he wasn't she still would never get to see him again. A wave of sorrow hit her, making her body tense up and her eyes shut tight for fear of crying in front of the others again. She would never again smell the inviting aroma of her mother's turnip and rosemary soup. She would never again discuss with Jet her theories about their favourite books, or hold her little tortoise shell kitten again. It was the little realisations that hurt the most.

"I think we're almost done," the pretty maid said.

Evalyn sat up, managing to fight against the weight of her soaking wet hair. Her previously submerged ears readjusted to the sounds above water, and the sound of Pauline and Ava's rather flat conversation became clearer.Both of the girls turned to Evalyn, their jaws dropping open.

"By the Gods," Ava gasped, "You look like me."
The maid laughed as she began running a comb through Evalyn's hair, and said, "We're not even close to finished yet. A little strategically-placed powder on the face, and you'll fool even the most observant courtesans."

Evalyn clutched a small portion of her hair from behind her, and pulled it in front. It was a gold platinum, and it reflected light in ways that she didn't even know were possible. How a mixture of egg, belladonna, walnut shells, and white wine transformed her hair so vividly was a mystery to her.

The sixteen year old was lead to the vanity, upon which a large mirror allowed herself to see her full look. Evalyn didn't look unpleasant per say, but she just looked wrong. She had spent her entire life with her dark chocolate hair. As with most people, it had become part of her identity. She had always been the clever brunette. Changing it made Evalyn feel as if she had been stripped of her previous self. Which of course, is exactly what they wanted.

The good news was that the hair-dye wasn't permanent. With one wash, it would leave, returned Evalyn to the person she used to be. Appearance-wise, of course.

"Is there anything I should know before tonight?" she inquired with Ava, who was lounging on the arm-chair next to Pauline.

Much to Evalyn's fright, she let out a cackle. "Not really. Mother has been lecturing me for my entire life about what I should know, and it all goes through one ear and out the other. The best you can do is fail."
The statement should have reassured Evalyn, but only made her uneasiness grow. She knew that every person at the dinner who knew of the deception would be judging her every move. Would she clasp her glass the same way Ava did? Would she favour the correct foods on the dinner table? Looking like someone was easy, being someone wasn't.

As her makeup was being applied, Evalyn shifted her eyes to the right to examine Ava. The ways she had kicked her legs up on the armrest to achieve the perfect reading position exuded aloof confidence. She was reading, "A Brief History of Frostvale" and was surprisingly engrossed for a girl of her years. The Princess was intelligent- that much was clear from the very moment they were introduced.

Pauline had a stronger presence in the room. Despite having engaged in small talk with the other girls, her pale cheeks were still flushed with anger. Her outburst with Queen Gwendoline was bound to have serious repercussions for her. Did Evalyn agree with Pauline? Of course. Her father had perhaps been mortally injured for the sake of this obscure destined-for-failure scheme.

But Pauline was from an orphanage, and in her seclusion from society she had perhaps missed the well-known understanding that the Court of Dulcinea was a game. If she was to survive, she would have to learn that quickly.

An hour later, all the girls were ready for the engagement. The dressmakers had yet to design the newcomers' clothes, so Evalyn had been stuck with one of Ava's summer gowns. The only problem was that Ava was quite a bit taller than Evalyn, and the dress, which had been stunning on the former's figure, covered the latter's hands and served as a dangerous tripping hazard.

Both Pauline and Ava had been done-up in less time than Evalyn. Both in lighter, more carefree gowns. At events where all three would be present, the two ladies would wear hoods or masks that partially obscured their face, just in case they sat next to each other and someone noticed the similarities.

The palace was large. They were lead through hall after hall, all with the same gold and blue furnishing. Evalyn tried to memorise the outline of the level, yet even if she momentarily closed her eyes to visualise the map, it was all muddled and fuzzy. So, the landmarked the passageways the only way she knew how- through the people. Namely, the portraits.

Directly across from Evalyn and Pauline's bedroom was a painting of a dark-haired, weary woman with an awkward yet endearing pout. Next to the entrance to the library hung three academic-looking men, all painted by the same artist. Starting from the left, there was the arrogant man, the fierce man, and the bored man. The dining hall was marked by the portrait of a woman who smiled like she knew who you fancied.

As soon as they entered the hall, the Queen pushed out of her seat and raced towards the girls. Her stiff scuttle caused by her impractical attire was similar to gawky walk of a cow. However, Queen Gwendoline did not look like a cow. She was perhaps a little on the plump side, but this flattered her face, giving her a soft, feminine look about her. Evalyn correctly guessed that the Ava got her more angular features from her father, whom Evalyn had never seen.

"Ah there you are darling," the Queen sang out.

Without needing a cue, Evalyn stepped forward from the group of three. Suddenly, the scary stakes of her task occurred to her. It would take only one or two slip-ups to completely ruin the deception, and once the deception was ruined, it could never be put in place again. Pauline and Evalyn would be out of the job, most likely executed for their knowledge. This was a dangerous game.
"Good day, mother," she greeted, trying to say the word 'mother' as nonchalantly as possible. The word still came off as unnatural in this setting, like a tropical palm tree on a frosty mountain.

Queen Gwendoline beckoned for a man to come over. "This is Ambassador Thomas of Amakoifadhdfjkl."

Ambassador Benjamin was a heavy, stout man with a perversely rectangular face and a scruffy beard. From his yellowing nails and wobbly walk, Evalyn guessed that he was an alcoholic, probably hung over from last night's drinking. She also observed that the Ambassador was rolling his wedding ring up and down his finger. While Evalyn had seen women do this with fashion rings, she'd never noticed it being done with a wedding ring nor by a man. She wondered if Ambassador Benjamin was adulterous, which might explain the impermanence of the ring.

To test this theory, Evalyn addressed him with a velvety, "Pleasure to meet you," and dipped into a low curtsey that deliberately exposed her breasts. All the while she had her eyes trained solely on the Ambassador's, and just as she had expected, a lecherous gaze fell on her chest.

Evalyn smirked. The Fairfax Court was a dangerous game, but she had unknowingly been training for it her whole life.