A Court Bright and Broken (Age of Fae #1)

12. Fancier

Chapter 12

Fancier

R aewyn

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was the gleam of gold.

The next was my two giggling sisters, perched on the edge of my sleeping pad.

“Wake up Raewyn,” Tindra urged. “It’s the day of the ball!”

She could hardly contain her excitement.

Turi got up and began dancing across the floor in her bare feet, singing, “Ball day, ball day, ball day… sweets!”

Lifting the invitation and reading it once again, I had to admit I felt a glimmer of excitement myself. There was something very alluring about the elegant writing and the exotic golden ink.

It seemed to almost call to me, in spite of my nerves over what might happen once I got to the event.

Ready or not, the wait was almost over.

For the past two weeks, I’d attempted to put the impending ball—and the mysterious Fae man—out of my mind. I had things to do, and daydreaming wasn’t going to help me get them done.

But it hadn’t been entirely possible to avoid thinking about it, considering our new circumstances.

Sorcha had come through with her end of the bargain.

An abundant garden had sprung up in our yard nearly overnight. A deer, apparently tempted by the beautiful vegetables, had attempted to jump over the garden fence—and had been caught in it, strangling itself.

As horrifying as the sight had been, the sizable animal had provided my family with a bounty of meat.

Thanks to her own improved diet, our goat Daisy was producing double the quantity of milk, which meant more butter and cheese as well.

The girls were filling out by the day and had healthy color in their cheeks and a new shine to their hair and eyes.

Though we had no mirror, I could tell I was growing more robust as well, just by the drape of my clothes, which now fit properly again after sagging for so long.

And my father’s health had vastly improved. He still couldn’t see of course, but he moved much more freely now, and he swore he had no more pain, which lifted a heavy weight from my heart.

Feeling so much more comfortable, Papa was able to be a more involved father with the girls. He’d also been able to take in far more work, bringing in more money than I could ever remember having in our household stores.

As hesitant as I’d been initially about making the deal with the Earthwife, I had no doubt I’d done the right thing.

Now it was time to pay up.

Kissing the girls and Papa goodbye, I left our cottage that afternoon and walked to Sorcha’s. As usual, she’d anticipated my arrival with uncanny accuracy.

“Welcome.”

She pulled the door wide and beckoned me inside.

“You’re looking well,” she said. “Enjoying your new garden?”

“Yes. We all are. Thank you. I believe you saved our lives,” I said.

She didn’t acknowledge my thanks, seeming absorbed in her perusal of my face and figure.

Nodding slowly, she continued her thought. “Very well indeed. I won’t have quite as much work to do as I’d anticipated.”

Sorcha snapped out of her deep concentration and walked quickly to a wardrobe on the other side of the room. It was tall and wide, made of polished burled wood and featuring two doors that met in the middle.

“Still, much to do, much to do. Come here, girl.”

When I reached her, she pulled open the wardrobe doors and stepped back, gesturing toward what was inside.

“What do you think?”

For a moment, I couldn’t manage speech. Once I’d regained my breath, I answered her.

“It’s… magnificent. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life.”

Hanging inside the wardrobe, barely contained by it in fact, was the most beautiful gown I could have ever imagined. Actually, my imagination, active as it was, wouldn’t have been capable of conjuring something this splendid.

The dress was sleeveless, turquoise blue, a rare color. Creating a dye of that shade was near impossible. Naturally, it was the color of House Randalin, worn by all the crown’s soldiers.

The tight bodice was made of satin with a sweetheart neckline, and the hoop skirts were overlaid with a sparkling sheer material that made me think of starlight.

“Are you sure it’ll fit me?” I asked. Obviously I hadn’t visited whichever seamstress had crafted it.

“It’ll fit,” the Earthwife assured.

Then she sent me to the back room to change into a new set of undergarments consisting of frilly drawers and a white linen shift—shockingly soft and silky compared to my own rough one made of hemp.

This one was so light and delicate I feared tearing it as I slipped it over my head and tugged it down over my body.

When I had it on, Sorcha entered the room and helped me put on the dress.

It was much heavier than my usual garb and seemed to have endless fastenings along the back.

When she was done, Sorcha returned to the wardrobe–which I could have sworn was empty now–and pulled out a pair of shoes.

They looked more like art objects than actual footwear. Decorated in sparkling crystals and what appeared to be pearls, the turquoise satin dancing slippers had flat soles but pointed toes, which I’d never worn. Ankle ribbons served to keep them snugly on my feet when I walked.

Like the dress, they were just my size.

No one in our village—or any village I’d ever visited—made such fine apparel and footwear. It seemed almost impossible, in fact, that anyone had managed to create this ensemble.

“Where did you get…” I started to ask, but Sorcha gave me a chilling glance that shushed me.

“You wouldn’t believe me, even if I told you,” she said. “And now for the finishing touches.”

Urging me to sit in a chair beside the hearth, she stood behind me and curled my hair with tongs heated in the fireplace until it hung in shining coils that felt like warm, heavy silk on my bare back and shoulders.

Then she moved me to the kitchen where she took several small pots and bottles down from the shelves. After applying something to my lips and eyelashes, she rubbed a cream into my cheeks and forehead then proclaimed me “almost done.”

“Almost? What could be left to do?” I asked with a laugh. “I believe there is no part of my body left unadorned.”

She grinned. “There’s still one small detail to take care of. You still look human.”

“But how will you–”

The cottage door opened, and a woman I’d never seen walked inside. She had hair the same color as Sorcha’s but hers was unbound, hanging down to her waist and her skin was a deep brown. She looked like she might have been a bit younger, but it was hard to guess her exact age.

Like our village mother, she wore a long, red gown with a silver chain at her waist.

“Hello, Caitriona,” Sorcha said without a hint of surprise. “This is Raewyn. Raewyn, meet my sister. She’s come from Hill Town to help.”

Help how?

“Hello,” I said, starting to rise from my chair.

“Keep your seat, love,” Caitriona said. “I’ll come to you.”

Crossing the room to us, Sorcha’s sister placed her hands on my shoulders.

“This won’t take long.”

Our village’s Earthwife stood behind me and rested her hands on my head, wrapping her fingers around the crown. The two sisters began to hum in the way Sorcha had the day we’d made our bargain and she’d somehow known about the invitation to the royal ball.

Caitriona’s eyes were closed. I could guess that Sorcha’s were as well. Their hums combined and grew louder, and my shoulders and scalp beneath their hands grew warm.

Unnaturally warm, as if I were sitting directly beside the fireplace instead of all the way across the room from it.

After a minute the rest of me became warm—uncomfortably so. And I felt strange in other ways… tingly, sore, a little nauseous.

“I think you might need to stop,” I said to the sisters. “I think I might be getting sick.”

“Close your eyes, child, and go to sleep,” Sorcha ordered.

“But I’m not slee—”

The next thing I knew, Caitriona was at the door, waving goodbye.

I blinked several times, trying to understand what had happened. Had I actually fallen asleep and missed… whatever it was they’d been doing?

The door closed behind Caitriona, and Sorcha stepped around in front of me, grinning widely as she studied my appearance.

“My sister is brilliant, and so am I,” she said, more to herself than to me. “You are ready.”

“Am I? What happened?”

I rose from my chair, feeling a bit unsteady.

“We made sure you’ll fit in with the others at the ball,” Sorcha explained. “Take a look.”

Guiding me back to the wardrobe, she once again opened its doors. There was a large mirror lining its back wall.

I gasped at what I saw there then literally turned around to make sure the woman I saw reflected in the glass was not standing behind me.

There was no one in the cottage but Sorcha and me.

My head whipped back to face the mirror, and my eyes roamed over my reflection in disbelief. And it was my reflection.

Its hands moved when mine did. Its head turned to one side then the other in tandem with my own actions. It wore an expression of astonishment that represented the exact feeling I had inside.

But that was where the similarities ended. The woman in the mirror was flawless.

Her cheeks bore a rosy glow. Her perfectly coiffed hair gleamed. Her shoulders and arms, exposed in the magnificent gown, were graceful and smooth.

I brought my hands up in front of my face to study them. They looked like they’d never done a day of work, which could not have been farther from the truth. The nails were smooth and tapered, the skin unscarred.

And was I… taller?

Having inherited my mother’s height, I’d always been taller than my peers, even many of the boys I’d grown up with. Some of them had never surpassed me, even after they’d reached full maturity.

Though I’d always enjoyed my height, my ganglyness compared to my friends’ petite forms hadn’t exactly improved my chances of marrying a village man.

Now it seemed I was even taller somehow.

Yes, when the Earthwife approached me, I was looking down at her at an even greater angle than before. How bizarre.

“You look Elven,” she informed me as if that explained everything. “Not quite as tall as the average she-Elf, but close enough. There’s only so much a spell can do.”

She handed me a beautiful beaded evening bag that matched my dress and shoes. I opened it to find it empty.

“To carry your invitation. You wouldn’t want to lose it,” the Earthwife said. “Have fun, enjoy the ball, and at the right time, I shall let you know what your task is. Come, your carriage is about to arrive.”

“But how will you let me know?” I asked, tucking my golden ticket into the small bag as I followed her to the door.

Was she planning to attend the ball as well? And if Sorcha was going, why did she need me there to complete this mysterious task?

Once again, my nerves buzzed a warning as if an angry bumble bee was trapped beneath my skin.

Too late now.

“You really ask that after all you’ve seen today?” Sorcha laughed. “Have some faith, child. When you need to know, you’ll know. Now the carriage is waiting outside, so be on your way.”

I walked down the path from her cottage to the main road, stopping in my tracks when I spotted the carriage.

I’d expected a hired hackney coach. I’d seen a few of those in my life, basic black boxes on rickety wheels that jolted over the ruts in the roads and probably conveyed their occupants to their destinations in worse shape than when they’d set off.

This was more like a palace on wheels.

The coach was an ornate white-painted structure with a roof and large windows, through which I could see cushioned seats. It was exceedingly clean and looked brand new, as if this was its maiden voyage.

A finely dressed coachman sat on the raised seat in front of the coach, holding the reins of a pair of resplendent white horses.

Many of the villagers had gathered to gawk at the spectacle, including my little sisters. When the two of them saw me approaching, they squealed with delight.

“A princess,” Turi exclaimed, clearly not recognizing me.

“That’s Raewyn, silly,” Tindra scolded. “Just fancier.”

She turned to me. “I knew the carriage was for you—it’s here to take you to the ball isn’t it?”

Turi was still looking at me like she barely knew me, which made me a little sad.

“You look like a princess,” she said in an awed and somewhat intimidated tone.

I bent down, farther down than before, to look her in the eye and tapped her lightly on the nose.

“And you look like a girl who’s going to be eating sweets tomorrow.”

Her expression of uncertainty shifted into joy. She hopped up and down on her tiptoes, and her face broke into a brilliant grin.

“Thank you thank you thank you, Raewyn.”

“That’s Raewyn Fennessey?” I heard one of my neighbors ask.

Murmurs spread through the gathered crowd.

“What has happened to her?”

“Where is she going?”

“Did she make a deal with the witch?”

“Have a wonderful time,” Tindra said. “Will you wake me up when you get home and tell me all about the ball?”

“No, but I’ll tell you all about it in the morning,” I vowed.

“Remember everything ,” she said gravely. “Every detail.”

“I’ll try.”

Then I boarded the carriage with the assistance of a footman and set off for what was certain to be the most memorable—and possibly most terrifying—experience of my life.