Mirror Majesty

20: Mirror Misfits

From the open door charged a host of fancily dressed ladies and gents. Their posh suits and sparkling dresses flooded the space around me in a cacophony of gasps and awes. Divide attempting to hold back the invading hoard found herself pinned against the wall. The crowd pulled me off the table. My leg surprisingly did not hurt as my feet landed on the floor.

"My my," said one frilly laced gentleman peering at me closely through his monocle. He ran his fingers through my hair. "Dry, split, frizzed. Ugh. This hair will certainly not do." He whipped out a comb and began forcefully ripping it through my hair undoing everything Divide had already done. My screams of pain were drowned out by other voices judging my sorry state.

"Dearie, dear," gasped a lady with an overabundance of white makeup and an extravagant wig. "This blue dress they picked out for her will not do. It will clash with her skin. Bring the wardrobe!" Two men carrying a large wooden crate over their heads arrived by her side. The lady opened it and began sorting through stacks of folded dresses. "No, not this one," she cried, throwing the dress across the room and on top of other people attending to me. "Definitely not this one."

"You must bite your nails," said another woman rubbing her thumbs over my fingers. "Disgusting habit. This will not do." She unlocked a kit attached to her hip and began pressing on colorful nails.

Every time I tried to speak my discontent another voice would interrupt me.

"What are y--" I stuttered.

"Someone cover those bandages on her legs!" yelped one voice. "Stockings! Get the stockings!"

"Hey uh--" I called.

"Lace more lace!" gripped another.

"Can you not--" I pleaded.

"Blush! She needs more blush!"

At long last I managed to get a sentence out.

"Excuse me!" I cried pushing two women off me. "Stop it, please!" Everyone halted and looked at me. "What are you people doing here?"

"Why we are here for you," said a lady carrying a giant perfume bottle. "We are the royal dressing party. The king's advisors sent us to make you presentable."

"Did they now," I said sarcastically.

"Someone get me the enchanted comb," demanded the man with the monocle. "Her hair needs some serious dousing." I reached behind and grabbed the man's arm before he could do one more painful tug on my hair.

"I don't need all this pampering," I said. "I will appear before the king looking like myself."

"Nonsense, Mirrorbender," said the lady with heavy makeup. "You can't appear before court and king looking so trifled, so common, so black clover."

"Court and king?" I said confusingly. "I thought I was speaking with just the king." Everyone began to laugh.

"Such a ridiculous notion," chuckled a lady with a stuffed parrot in her hair.

"How utterly amusing," laughed a man in a high collared vest.

"Purely outsider ignorance," joked another. I didn't find my comments at all funny, but before I could get another word out, the makeup lady wacked my face with a cloud of foul smelling powder. I coughed.

"My dear, Mirrrobender," cried the voice of the woman with the large wig. She motioned to two other women as they shoved a poofy yellow dress over my head. "No one speaks to the king without going through The Court of High Heels. Fail to gain their favor, and you will be thrown out like last year's prince. It's why we were sent. To dress you like a goddess and make you turn heads. Fashion is everything to the court."