Chapter 19
Jessamine had forgotten what it felt like to have a home.
In all that they had done, all that she had suffered, the memories of having a safe place to rest her head had simply filtered out of her mind.
She’d been so confident that she’d never forget her past, but somehow…
she had. In one moment, she was sure she hadn’t changed that much, and then she was reminded in an instant that she had.
Safety in these walls meant she could fully relax.
She didn’t have to sleep with one ear listening or try to pay attention to the meaning of the stillness of silence.
Her sleep here was more restful than she had felt in ages.
Her head had hit the pillow, and she hadn’t even remembered falling asleep.
She just woke up again feeling more like herself.
The room Elric had created for the two of them was far cozier and less spooky than the rest of the house.
The wallpaper was a lovely maroon color with bits of gold flecks sprinkled throughout, and the ceiling was wallpapered with the same pattern.
She stared up at it, trying to trace imagined shapes as Elric woke.
His warm arm snaked around her waist, tugging her a little closer to him as he rested his head on her shoulder. “You’re awake too early, nightmare.”
“I’m always awake before you.”
“And I don’t know how you do it,” he murmured, snuggling a little harder against her side. “The morning is not meant for being awake like this. The morning is for lazing about in your bed until someone tells you it’s time to get up.”
“Spoken like a veritable god who has been worshipped his entire life.” She tilted her head to look at him, grinning as he cracked only one eye open to glare at her.
“Were you not a princess in another life?” he muttered. “You must have lazed about in bed far more than I did.”
“Elric, I promise you, there wasn’t a day in my life that I lazed about. Besides, there’s a lot to do today.”
“Why?”
“We’re preparing for the dinner party tonight, remember? The one where we’re supposed to trap Fortuna and get more information on how to stop Leon from completely taking over my kingdom until all hope is lost?”
He blew out a long breath that stirred her hair. “Oh, that’s what you’re all worried about. We’ll be fine. Go back to sleep.”
That was… not helpful. Besides, she really needed to get out of bed if she wanted to prepare herself.
Untangling their limbs, she pecked him on the forehead before leaving him strewn out on her bed, his arm halfway off the mattress and a pillow over his head. The man really couldn’t be more dramatic if he tried, but she’d learned a long time ago that the Deathless One was not a morning person.
Padding down the halls of her new home, Jessamine let herself soak in all that had changed.
They could remain here after dealing with Fortuna.
Agnes would take over anyway, which meant the coven itself would run the Pleasure District.
Let Leon bring all the foreign dignitaries here and see how much they liked her kingdom when they were met with witchcraft.
Perhaps then Leon would realize that she would not give up without a fight.
Of course, she wasn’t all that certain he knew she was still alive. Rumors weren’t facts. A king like him wouldn’t take rumors from peasants seriously; he’d need to see for himself that she was the one behind all this.
“Your Highness?” The raspy voice stopped her in her tracks.
“Agnes?” She turned with a soft smile on her face for the once-elderly woman. “What are you doing up this early?”
“I rarely sleep. Even before the Deathless One gave me these powers, I was not one to spend my precious time on dreams.”
“You look well.” Agnes had been a beauty in her day, and now looked almost identical to the women Jessamine had seen painted on her walls.
Long blond hair, strong features, and a powerful build that suggested if she wanted to, Agnes could have been stronger than the average man.
And yet she held herself with the grace and confidence befitting a woman of her station.
Even her gowns suggested that. Silk, velvet, hand-stitched golden threads on the edges…
Jessamine would have looked twice at those gowns in the parties at the palace, and there were an infinite number of rich people at those parties.
“If you wouldn’t mind coming with me?” Agnes asked.
Jessamine didn’t think she had a choice.
She followed the old witch all the way to her room, noting that Elric had done an impressive job with this one as well.
It reminded her of old money, of castle rooms that had been in the same style for ages and yet were still far more functional than any of the new ones.
Rosewood warmed half of the walls, and the other half was painted a lovely deep violet.
Hand-painted stars decorated the ceiling, and all the furniture was made of the same kind of wood as the walls, creating a harmonious impression.
The thick carpets on the floor certainly helped as well. Jessamine couldn’t even hear their footsteps as they made their way across the room, and Agnes pointed for her to sit on the small chaise lounge at the foot of the bed.
“You are going into Fortuna’s domain,” Agnes started, her face wrinkled with worry. “I fear that none of you know who she is now. From what Sybil has told me, you knew Fortuna when you were children, yes?”
“She is my cousin. We grew up together when she visited the castle with her parents, but obviously they were nowhere near as well-off as we were. My mother was the queen, and Fortuna’s mother was my mother’s cousin.
Disgraced from the royal family for marrying one of the tavern owners in the Pleasure District after she’d fallen in love with him.
” Jessamine curled her fingers in her lap.
“I always thought it was a romantic story, but I know Fortuna felt differently.”
“I’m sure she felt as though her mother had blighted her chances at gaining a throne herself. So she made herself one.” Agnes tsked before walking over to the wardrobe. “I took the liberty of ordering your outfits for tonight. It’s very important that you look as though you fit in.”
“I doubt fashion has changed so much in the six months since I’ve been dead.”
Agnes gave her an unimpressed look. “My dear, you underestimate Fortuna already. The moment there were rumors the princess wasn’t dead, Fortuna began her plan to make sure that you would be found out quickly and without hesitation.”
“What does that even mean?”
“She changed what we consider to be beautiful. All the gowns have changed. All the accessories are different. Anyone who doesn’t know what is now considered fashionable becomes the laughingstock of any room she is in.
She ensured you would be spotted out by all of those who saw you, and even in a crowd, you would stand out.
” Agnes arched her brow. “Or did you think you were blending in?”
She had thought they were doing a fine job of it, but clearly she’d been wrong. Wrinkling her nose, she looked down at her bedclothes before looking back at Agnes. “Then what has changed?”
“Getting you ready for this party is going to be an all-day ordeal, my darling. But we’re all ready for the fight that this will be.”
“Fight?” Jessamine shook her head. “We?”
At that, the door opened, and Sybil and Elissa walked in with their arms laden.
Tools, implements, makeup, hair appliances, everything that she hadn’t seen in months were suddenly carted into the room.
Elissa shot her a bright grin before leaving once more, and Sybil stuck her tongue out at Jessamine.
“Why didn’t I realize you were going to be so much work?” Sybil asked as she started back toward the door, too.
“Where are you going?”
“There are more boxes.”
Jessamine’s jaw fell open, and then she looked to Agnes for confirmation. “More boxes?”
“I told you. This will be an all-day event, and don’t think that you are going to get out of this.
Elric is a man. All he has to do is wear a dark suit and exude confidence and control, which he already does.
You, on the other hand, have to be the flower that hangs on his arm.
You must be the beauty that all who see him envy.
And if you are not? You will expose the both of you.
Now. First things first.” Agnes grabbed Jessamine by the arm and carted her over to the window. “We’re going to fix that hair.”
“My hair?” Jessamine touched the dark locks, wondering what was so wrong with it.
It had changed after her death, of course. There weren’t a lot of brushes when one was living in an abandoned home, and even then, it wasn’t easy for her to take the time to get the tangles out. She did what she could with her hands, and she’d thought she’d done a fine job of it.
“This looks like a bird’s nest on the best of days, and on the worst…” Agnes winced. “When you walked into my home, I was certain we were handing out charity to someone who had never been inside a house before, my dear.”
Well, that certainly put it into perspective.
Jessamine remained where she was while Agnes rummaged through the boxes that Sybil and Elissa were carting in. She returned with handfuls of brushes, two of which she handed to Sybil and Elissa, and all three women hovered behind her.
“This isn’t going to be pleasant, I fear,” Agnes said, brandishing the brush like it was a sword. “But it must be done.”
Jessamine tried her best not to complain, but she had a lot of hair.
They started at the ends, which were nearly to her waist now and continued upward.
Every single snarl, tangle, and knot fought them.
It was like her hair had taken on a life of its own, and it wanted to be the most difficult beast any of them had ever dealt with.
She wasn’t sure how long it took, but by the time they were done, Agnes was complaining about the state of her wrists.
“Elissa, dear,” Agnes said dramatically as she sat down on the edge of the bed. “You’re perfectly capable of curling it, I imagine?”
Oh, lovely. They brought out an implement that Sybil warmed with a spell, and off they went again. The room was soon filled with the scent of burning hair, and still they would not slow down. Once all of her locks had been appropriately curled, Agnes set out to complete her makeup.
“You have a lovely bone structure,” she claimed, tilting Jessamine’s face back and forth. “But we’ll have to hide all that we can. Look at the scars on you, my girl. No one in the nobility would ever dare publicly bare their scars like you do.”
“It’s not like I have a choice.”
“Perfection is what we’re going for,” Agnes said. “And one cannot be perfect with a mark across your throat like someone murdered you.”
Jessamine ground her teeth together. “Someone did.”
Agnes ignored that as she began to apply Jessamine’s makeup.
Heavy rouge made her lips look like they were dripping blood.
Blush, fake freckles, and ringed kohl around her eyes made the darkness in them seem even more dark.
She was shocked to look at herself in the mirror when Agnes finally finished.
“You weren’t kidding when you said things have changed.” She leaned forward and touched her fingers to her face, trying to see herself in the reflection of the mirror. “This is… This doesn’t even look like me! Just a few months ago, everyone was trying to look as natural as possible. And now this?”
“Most of us aren’t happy with it.” Agnes tilted her head to the side, surveying Jessamine in the mirror as though she noticed something was still off. “I suppose it is pretty on you. I hadn’t expected you to look quite so different, my dear.”
Neither had she. But with all her dark hair piled on top of her head in complicated coils and the makeup on her face, Jessamine wasn’t even sure she would recognize herself.
“Now, the last piece is the gown.” Agnes walked over to the wardrobe and yanked it open.
“I spoke with a dear friend of mine who was certain this would look absolutely lovely on you. I told her you were rather waiflike. I think she heard wight-like, but that’s also appropriate given your… bone structure.”
The black dress was made out of the finest silk.
It swayed as Agnes brought it out, the gown rustling on the ground as it moved.
It was long and would cling to her like a second skin.
The top was little more than a braided pattern and would show significantly more skin than she ever thought she would.
Jessamine stripped down and stepped into the skirt portion. The other women immediately twined the braids around her torso, making sure the braids were laying over the most important bits. But really, only her nipples were covered, and everything else was still rather revealing.
Her arms, shoulders, and back were nearly bare. Her stomach was only mildly covered by the complicated braids. But then Agnes brought out an additional piece of twisted silver from the wardrobe.
“Now, this is the part that will make sure no one questions you in the slightest.” She held it up, and Jessamine held her breath in shock.
It was a metal rib cage. Worn with tarnished edges, the silver had turned black at the curves of each rib. It opened along the sternum, sealing itself around her in a hug far tighter than any corset she’d ever worn in her life.
When she looked at her reflection now, all she could see was a woman half in life and half in death. A skeletal creature who looked both terrifying and beautiful.
“Oh,” she whispered. “How lovely.”
“It goes perfectly with the mask.” Agnes walked up behind her and settled the mask on top of her face. It looked like a skull, but with intricate carvings all around it. Butterflies, birds, tiny lizards, everything that was life itself crawling all over the skull that stopped just below her nose.
The other three witches seemed to hold their breath as she looked at their final work, and then Jessamine slowly smiled. The bloodred lips were a garish streak across her face as she whispered, “What a haunting visage.”
“And what a perfect last sight for Fortuna,” Agnes replied.