CHAPTER FOURTEEN #2
At one point, I’d hated mirrors. I’d covered every last one in my house.
It had taken me a long time to reach a tentative truce with my body.
This body? It wasn’t me, so I had no self-love for it.
I’d never even liked Duchess Hedri before I’d been forced into such great intimacy with her, which made it even harder.
The cold blue eyes staring at me in the mirror reminded me of the duchess casually ordering my death.
My back and knees hurt, all the more when I’d been stuffed into strange fancy outfits.
I couldn’t get used to the height. The body didn’t move how I was accustomed to and kept bumping into things. It was fat.
Years ago, late one evening after leaning over the toilet retching, I’d noticed that my teeth had signs of decay and my hair had gotten thinner.
My knuckle had a callus from sticking it down my throat so many times.
I’d tortured my body trying to make it look like I wanted it to and ended up hating myself even more.
Then and there, I had decided to stop letting the word “fat” have power over me. It hadn’t worked so easily, of course. I’d faked it until I made it. (Mostly made it.)
Now I’d been thrown off my equilibrium. I lurked uneasily inside this strange, heavy body.
It felt unfair that I’d somehow gained weight without doing anything except being body-swapped.
Irrational, I knew. That was hardly the most unfair thing about this situation.
I’d been trying to stop caring about weight at all.
But it bothered me the most. I felt torn between desperately trying to shed the extra pounds with another round of gorging myself on food and throwing up because it was a lost cause.
I knew how easy it would be for me to slip back into doing both.
“I look awful,” I whispered.
Araceli removed a pin between her lips to speak. “You look great.”
I glanced down at my feet, away from that horrible mirror. “I didn’t mean to insult your handiwork. You’ve done the best you could with the materials you had available.”
“I’m not flattering you. Or myself. I mean it.”
“Uh-huh,” I mumbled, wanting to change the topic.
“Just look at you.” Araceli swept a hand down my dress.
“Magnificent, every inch. You’ve got eyes like a pair of diamonds.
They perfectly suit that sharp chin. Such soft, voluminous hair.
I was always jealous of the duchess’s hair, to be honest. Mine is so thin.
Your bosom … hmm, I’d probably better stop before I sound crude, but suffice it to say the dress complements it.
The heels make you look even taller and more imposing.
The real duchess rarely wore high heels, so I’m glad you let me put you in them, because they match the style you have going.
Between the spiky metal on your dress and the crown, you look like a battle goddess ready to burn this city down if it doesn’t bow before you. ”
“When you say imposing, you mean fat, right? All the rubies in the bodice only make me look even thicker around the middle. The skirt is huge, and I hate it!” The words poured out of me like a torrent.
“Some people like big women,” Araceli said.
“Not everyone, of course. Court fashion says a woman shouldn’t be tall.
I say bullshit. Anyone who isn’t into giant, big-boned women won’t be your target audience.
So what? Rather than trying to make yourself smaller to suit other people, why not play up your strengths?
Go ahead and show off those long legs with some heels.
Adorn a gemstone on every acre of flesh.
Let the ample bosom have freedom. You look magnificent. ”
The passion in her voice moved me. I gazed at my reflection again.
This time, I also took in Araceli standing next to me, holding my shoulders.
She had such sincerity in her gaze that I couldn’t help but believe she meant every word.
When I looked at her eyes, then back at my reflection, I could start to see what she saw.
The duchess did look intimidating, confident, and dangerous.
“Uh, thank you.” I tugged at a bit of lace on my sleeve, blushing again, unable to meet Araceli’s eyes except in the mirror. “Soooooo, do you like big women?” Sweet Sun God, I hadn’t meant to ask that, it had just slipped out.
“Of course I do. What do you think that speech was about?” Araceli winked at me. “You don’t seem comfortable in this body—did you used to be skinny?”
“No, actually, I, uh … I wasn’t comfortable in my original body, either.” I looked away. “Not all of the time, at least. Sometimes. I’d gotten better about it.”
“I bet you were adorable, just like you are right now.” Araceli seemed about to say something, then she stopped herself. “Not that it’s any of my business. I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable.”
“No, not at all! You made me feel much better. Thank you. You did a wonderful job on the outfit—no backhanded compliment this time, just a sincere one.”
“You’re welcome.” Araceli patted my cheek. “You’re a goddess, and if she doesn’t see it, that’s her problem.” A note of wistfulness entered her voice.
Araceli left while I was still trying to puzzle out who “she” was. I supposed the dwarven ambassador must be female?
A page poked his head in the door. “Um. I’ve been given a message from Countess Donya. She said the dwarven delegation has arrived. She promised to stall them as long as possible while you make it to the throne room.”
I had no time for further pondering. It was showtime.