In Love with the Ringleader

Cirque de Magnifique - Chapter Four

The bath water was lukewarm. Cass had her knees pulled toward her chest, the tin-made tub being far too small for her to stretch them out. She slowly cupped some of the tepid water and splashed it on her skin, but it was a slow and repulsing process.

Never, in Cass’s seventeen-year life, had she seen water this filthy.

It had always been drawn from the pipe, hot and steamy, the color as clear as glass. She had always had someone there to help her wash her hair, and hand her a white towel when she got out. But this, this was disgusting. The water smelled and looked like a murky pond, and Cass was positive that sitting in this dinky tub was only making her more dirty than she was before.

How many grimy naked men, caked in dirt and God knows what, had seen the likes of this tub? She thought morbidly, lifting her right foot up to inspect her toes. There was dirt in between them. Ugh.

Kennie had directed her here, and after another plea for her not to be late, he had scurried off once again. Maybe Kennie was used to bathing in grime? She asked herself. That’s a strange notion; his skin is as clean as an obtuse man’s plate after supper.

It didn’t matter if Kennie bathed in this water, because Cass knew she would not.

Standing up in the tub, she reached for the stained rag Kennie had handed her on his way out. Rivulets of brown water absconded down her skin, and as she stood, she could feel the grains of sand and dirt that’d collected at the bottom of the basin.

Cass made quick work of drying her body. She rubbed her skin red trying to rid herself of that grubby feeling. She had promised Kennie she would be as quick as possible, but now, facing the infernal dirt water, she knew that was impossible.

While—thankfully—most of her hair wasn’t wet, the parts that were stuck to her bare skin; Cass didn’t have a brush to tend to her mane, and so it hung, tangled, over her back. There is no mirror, her thoughts were undeniably sullen, there is no clean water, and there is no powder. My life has come to an end.

Cass, anxious to get out of the wash room, grabbed up the clothes Nina had lent her. As she made out what was actually in her hands, her eyes widened and her mouth hung agape. Were these Nina’s clothes or her brother’s? Cass held up a pair of loose looking trousers and a shapeless cotton shirt. The last few items fell from her hands and onto the floor. Was that a corset? 

Cass bent to pick it up, surprised by the weight of the article. Oh blessed femininity, she despaired, bid me farewell!

Cass went to put the trousers on first. She stuffed her legs inside each hole, grimacing as she went, then, lifting the blouse she slipped it over her head. It hung over her torso like it was a bed sheet. Cass was scowling and mumbling a mouthful of expletives underneath her breath as she picked up the heavy corset.

“How do I lace this?” Her exclamation was frantic but Cass did not take another second to glare at the outdated item. Instead, she wrapped it around her waist, making sure her bosom was secure and covered, while staring confusedly at the strings running down the front of her stomach. I’ve never done this before…

Clumsily crossing one side of laces over the other, Cass somehow managed to tighten the thing up to where it hugged her properly. Wait, she regarded her handiwork with a sinking feeling, was that supposed to go on underneath the blouse?

Cass wanted to scream, but fortunately, someone already did that for her. Outside of the washroom, a chorus of howls and hoots came from the Big Top. She looked excitedly toward the exit, grabbing a hold of the worn pair of leather boots—the one’s Kennie had gratefully handed over to her—and rushed out the room.