Mortal Fantasy

✴｜chapter sixteen

She suddenly cinches the back of the corset, and my head seems to float up to the clouds.

"Does it have to be..." I twist back a little, catching a corner of my distraught expression in the mirror. "That  tight?"

"This is how it's supposed to be worn," Adlyn responds brightly. I catch a few tendrils of her bouncy red hair bobbing over my shoulder from our reflections. "You have a wonderful figure, though. It shouldn't be too hard, right?"

"Too... hard," I manage in a hiccuping whisper. "I am now doubly sure that I won't survive this night."

The young maid's head dips as she fastens another strap on the dress. "We're all fated to do something." Straightening, she perches her chin on my bare shoulder. "And you're fated to face the king and queen."

I shiver involuntarily. "I don't want to."

"One does many things that one does not want to do," Adlyn observes ruefully. Her mouth creases in a small frown. "But the prince will be with you. Won't he protect you?"

"The prince." I half want to laugh. On the one hand, I know that Stephen must give the impression that I really am his concubine, and he has been treating me as such. On the other hand, I feel myself clinging to his promises, of keeping me safe and treading within his limits. My chest only sinks to realize what a situation I must be in to have a prince save me from my peril.

And while I wish I could blame him, I have to remember that none of this is his doing.

"Finished!" The maid bounces on her toes and peeks over my shoulder. "It's not too bad, is it?"

I examine the fiery red gown in the mirror. It is much more sophisticated than I could have conceived; elaborate golden clasps line the front bodice. The blood-red fabric clings to my shape all the way down to the knee, where it furls down and outward into a dozen petal-like pieces. It is bare-shouldered but features a collar-like garment that adjoins the bodice and keeps it from falling. While I am confident that it will hold, it seems easily tearable, as if only a firm pull would rip the fabric apart.

Adlyn had earlier pulled up my hair to expose my neck, a long white column in my reflection. She is young, but the versatility of her fingers seems to outdo her years. I won't confess it out loud, but a part of me thinks that the dress... suits me.

"No, it's not bad," I murmur distantly, touching the bodice. "You really are talented, Adlyn."

I can imagine her blush from behind me as she dips down again, likely under the pretense of fastening a strap. "Every maid here is trained in tailoring. I'm nothing special."

I catch the diffidence in her voice and smile. "You are," I insist, beginning to turn back, but then she hooks onto my elbow and tugs at me.

"We're only done with the dress," she singsongs, pulling me towards the opposite side of the room. The skirt is so long that I nearly trip stumbling after her. She sits me down in front of the dresser, and then begins fumbling with a number of ornaments on the counter that I have never seen before.

"What—what are those?" I stammer, watching in confusion as she opens a flat silver disc. Inside is an almost liquid rouge, whose texture reminds me of pastel.

"Maquillage," Adlyn says, taking a brush from the dresser and swirling it in the rouge. "It's what all the nobility uses. Your beauty doesn't need it, but it's for a special occasion."

"Oh," is all I can say as she urges me to part my lips, and begins drawing the brush over them. I watch as my lips darken into a merlot red, as if I have been downing wine instead of suffering at the mercy of tight corsets. Once Adlyn finishes, she lays the brush down on the dresser and takes up something else, a brush with wide-set, fluffy bristles.

"Close your eyes," she instructs me, and I do so to feel the soft brush against my eyelids, fluttering like butterfly wings.

I squirm in my seat, unable to stop laughing. "Stop... stop that!"

"You must endure," Adlyn says in mock seriousness. "Only then will you be equipped with your full, lethal beauty."

I carefully compose myself, only to feel Adlyn lift the brush from my eyelids. When I open them, I peer into the mirror, touching my face. The rouge makes my small lips look like a parted cherry, and whatever Adlyn had brushed onto my eyes looks like stardust. The additions are small, but they feel otherworldly. And I really look... beautiful.

"...you already have amazing bone structure and complexion, and such long, dark lashes... you really don't need anything else," Adlyn finishes.

"Oh." I clear my throat as if I have been listening. "Thank you."

She smiles, her bright hazel eyes playful. "I'm sure you've received plenty of compliments before."

"No, no," I say quickly, "for applying..."

"Oh!" She seems happily flustered. "Of course. It's my pleasure."

At that moment a sharp rapping comes upon the door. I scramble to my feet as Adlyn's fingers automatically flutter over my hair and the dress, checking for any last-minute errors. I can't find an explanation as to why, but my stomach swirls as if with a dozen winged creatures.

Adlyn rushes to attend to the door. When she opens it, she sinks into a deep curtsy, squeaking, "Your Highness." I can't see the door from here—I wring my hands nervously. Do I go to meet the prince, or does he come inside? How am I supposed to react? Why am I fretting over this, when we have met plenty of times before?

"You may rise," I hear his voice. In an instant, my heartbeat has climbed into my throat, and I slap my hands over my cheeks to break me from my restlessness.

"May I ask where your lady is?" Stephen asks, sounding perfectly composed. I envision Adlyn frantically searching for words.

"Oh, Miss Ithena," she warbles. "She'll—she'll be out in a moment—"

"Your Highness!" I burst, picking up my skirts and running towards the door. When our eyes meet over Adlyn's small figure, I see Stephen's aureate eyes blink open wide. In a flurry of  ragged breaths, I drop into a lopsided curtsy. "Sorry, I was just—getting ready. Or I was already ready, I just didn't—"

"It's alright," Stephen cuts me off. I glance up from beneath my curtsy, and one gloved hand is across his mouth, presumably to keep him from laughing out loud. I see his shoulders shake a bit in mirth, and he says, "Ithena, if you're like this in front of me, I'm not sure you'll pull it off in front of an entire court."

I snap up, a breath locked in my throat, partly from embarrassment and partly because breathing has become slightly more difficult. Stephen seems to favor blue—his suit is a deep sapphire, studded with pocket chains and a row of gleaming pins. The darkness only accents his pale bronze skin, I notice without wanting to, and when I have had my fair share of staring, Adlyn finally breaks the awkward silence.

"Um." She coughs and drops into another curtsy. "Please enjoy, Your Highness."

Stephen acknowledges her with a slight inclination of his head, though he keeps his eyes on me. His gaze seems unusually intent. "The banquet should go on till no later than midnight." He extends an arm for me, and I have the startling impression of a common girl being swept away by a prince to a ball. It is a childish fantasy, but it feels real. "You're prepared?"

I know that taking his arm means that I will have to set foot in one of the most terrifying places in all of Atellyn. Even so, I slip my slender, bare arm through his, and I catch his slight blink, as if he wasn't expecting it.

"Yes." I swallow. "I'm ready."

A/N

I lied, things are going to happen NEXT chapter, not this one... lol.

I really was planning to have them attend the banquet this chapter, but I got caught up in the preparations... That being said, the drama comes next chapter, which will be considerably long. 

I'm planning to have it out as soon as possible (4-6 days) so hang on!

Until the next chapter,

Icelynn :3