Chapter 47
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
MORGANA
I ’d studied the morning away alone. Erynna had given me three books thicker than my leg to read up on—again, all about Avendatis’ customs. They were loose with societal expectations but stern with literature. Most of the working class did not know how to read, and those that did were old enough to remember the war. Libraries didn’t exist. Knowledge was transferred by word of mouth, most of which stemmed from the crown itself.
It sounded absolutely terrible.
But the minutes were unbearable. By the time the early evening rolled around, I was ready to throw the books out the back of the train and pretend they’d vanished. Fortunately, Erynna broke through the door with two gowns, the finishings, and a handful of servants with so many supplies to do my face and hair. I feared what I faced.
“Are you finished?” she said with a sharp bite to her tone. My eyebrows lifted, and I nodded slowly. “Good.”
I watched her grab the books, shadow misting over them, and when the darkness vanished, so did the books. She snapped at the servants, one of which twisted my chair so I wasn’t tucked beneath a table, and the other pulled my hair from my face. I gasped, holding onto the chair to steady myself.
“When we arrive to Avendatis, there will be a festival in the streets celebrating their freedom.”
“But the treaty wasn’t signed?—”
“Yes, I know that. But the average person in Avendatis does not.” Erynna sat in the loveseat and crossed her legs at the ankle, observing every careful twist and pull of my hair. She corrected them a few times, and within minutes, my hair was pulled out of my face, braided and littered with pearls. “They likely chose today to celebrate because it distances them from the actual history. Avendatis wants to spread the knowledge they see fit. Well, they can’t kill off the remaining generations that survived the war. So instead they forced them into submission and stripped their children from them so they could be raised at academies in the mountains.”
I thinned my lips into a line, unsure how to respond, but a servant ushered me to stand as another one propped up a folding screen. “Undress, miss.”
I breathed out, shaking my head quickly. “I can dress myself.”
“Unfortunately, the corset cannot be tied by your hands alone. So, please, undress.”
Every bone in my body turned cold. My eyes flicked to the other two women, their eyes unrelenting on me as they waited. I closed my eyes, sucking in a breath before I removed my blouse. The air was so thick, so quiet, I wasn’t sure if time was moving or if it’d been frozen in place. Not a second later, they untied my undergarments, replaced it with a high-end, cotton corset with bone cordings that lined my abdomen and side. I’d heard their breaths hitch when they saw the state of my back, but none of them made note of it further.
They didn’t need to. My mind had already gone numb, eyelids heavy and stuck on the ground ahead of me.
The layers of the gown were suffocating, but the woman had not lied. There was no way I’d dress myself in a piece like this. They’d spared me from a cage that added unsightly roundness to the backside of my dress, but everything else was layered to perfection. The corset was far too tight, but the gown was of this rich, midnight-black velvet with red plated layers of the skirt. The delicate embroidery shaped roses across my side, and the sheer sleeves ended at an elongated point that swayed with my movements. The neckline was cut deep, but not deep enough to turn heads.
I’d never worn anything like it.
One of the ladies removed the folding screen, and Erynna jumped to her feet to circle me. When she came to face me again, her features softened for the first time since she’d walked into the room. Her eyes glistened with something unspoken, and I offered a small smile. “So, do I fit the part?”
Erynna nodded once. She left me to grab some compacts of powdered blush and lipstick, returning to the spot in front of me. After dismissing the women, she rubbed the pink powder into the pads of her finger before working it into my cheeks.
“You look divine, dear,” she said quietly. “You must act the part too. Remember. Lady Evelyn Tillington.”
I smiled softly, parting my lips when she shifted to the darker rouge that would cover my lips.
“When we arrive, we will not have the luxury to slip away into the festivities. We must continue to the palace. They are likely expecting us, but we are not welcomed guests, by any means. Aster will try to get information directly out of the king and queen, but we have to assume that does not work. I will distract the princes, perhaps get whatever information I can out of them, but it is you who needs to do the digging. The keen observation I know you already do so well. Do you understand?”
“I do,” I whispered. I had to admit, the confidence on my tongue did not resonate with the nerves within my chest. I was terrified. But last night had awoken this newfound vigor. I valued the uncertainty behind risk, at least for the day, so I’d hold onto it and let it guide me to answers.
Erynna smiled softly, but it didn’t reach the eyes. There was something ailing her.
“What is the matter?” I asked.
That mischief I’d grown accustomed to had faded today, and I could only wonder if it had to do with last night. I mean, I by no means was quiet. Not that I didn’t try. She slipped a hand into her pocket and pulled out a vial of amber liquid, handing it to me and ignoring my question.
“What is this?”
“To prevent an unnecessary predicament,” she said in a hushed tone, that ghost of a smile gone. There was only disappointment that remained.
Blush swept over my cheeks and I turned away from the princess, walking to the jewelry they’d laid out on the table. I didn’t challenge her, nor did I question what would happen. I merely glanced at the potion and uncorked it, throwing my head back to drink it in one go.
After wincing, I put in the ruby earrings, the matching necklace, and then a bracelet to finish it off. When I caught sight of myself in the mirror, I stopped in my tracks.
This was not the same woman who had been sneaking across rooftops in search of answers.
No, there was far too much glow. Her eyes were brighter, and she looked less tired.
This Morgana was happy. Happy enough, at least.