Chapter 6
RHI
Aurelia and Mira silently lead me through the remainder of the stardust entryway to a massive marble staircase.
After the first six steps, the staircase parts on either side, and the two soundless women steer me left.
The scintillating decor fades at the top of the stairs, giving way to a limestone corridor with open, arched windows.
Once again, ocean waves sing their soothing tune, but before I have a chance to glimpse the sea from this vantage point, I’m whisked up another stairway yet again.
My two ladies’ maids still don’t utter a single word, and I get the sense that even if I prompted either with a question, I wouldn’t get a response.
Mira stops in front of a wooden door set back into a smaller archway than I’d seen upon entering the castle.
I step inside once she opens it, Aurelia close on my heels.
I barely have time to take in what I assume is my sleeping quarters before the two usher me toward a stunning cherry wood vanity and sit me upon a plush, red velvet seat.
“You guys just get right to the point, don’t you?
” I stare at the two, still-silent women through the vanity’s tri fold mirror as Aurelia runs a comb through my hair and Mira rifles through miscellaneous bottles on the vanity.
She picks up a small tub of what looks like blush from this angle, huffing while she pats the concoction on my cheeks.
“We were instructed to attend to you and nothing more.”
“What wonderful hospitality,” I answer dryly.
A smile almost touches Aurelia’s lips. She starts plaiting my hair, sweeping most of it from my neck.
“Please leave some of it down,” I tell her. If I want to jog Nick’s memory quickly, I want him to see me as he always has, and I rarely wear my hair up.
Mira scowls but Aurelia nods, leaving the bottom half of my hair resting against my back. She pulls half of it up and away from my face, twisting and turning until a portion of it is fashioned into an elegant bun at the crown of my head.
“I suppose you want to wear the dress you arrived in as well?” Mira says vehemently.
“What’s wrong with it?” I answer just as viciously.
In the mirror’s reflection, she gives a blatant perusal of my dress, her lip curling with displeasure. Now I’m definitely wearing the fucking dress.
Swatting her hand away from my face, I grab a white cloth resting upon the vanity and give her a deadpan stare as I wipe the excessive rouge from my cheeks.
A career in professional makeup is not in this girl’s future.
Cheeks aflame, Mira practically stomps her foot before turning on her heel. “I’ll be outside.” A violent slam of the door lets me know she’s gone, and a relieved exhale escapes me.
“Do you like your hair?” Aurelia quietly asks, not meeting my eyes in the mirror.
I smile as wide as I can and answer exuberantly, “I love it. Thank you.”
When her gaze finds mine, she responds with her own genuine smile. “Please forgive Mira,” she implores. “She was under the impression she would be attending the future queen.”
My heart nearly stills at those words. “The future queen?”
Aurelia nods. “Isadora, the King’s betrothed.”
I can’t stop the acid swirling in my stomach threatening to emerge, yet I swallow it down. No one said anything about Nick being fucking engaged.
“How—” I pause, attempting to control my erratic breathing. “How long have they been engaged?”
“A few months now.” Aurelia continues to comb my hair, completely oblivious to the heartbreak in my voice.
“How nice.” I choke down a sob.
“It is! It’s been so long since we’ve had a royal wedding. The King’s father never had a queen, only several mistresses.” She pauses. “And, of course, our King’s mother, but no one here knows who she is.”
Victoria, my broken brain supplies.
Blissfully ignorant, Aurelia presses on, patting rouge on my lips. “But King Raphael has not taken a mistress, so he must be smitten with his betrothed.”
I swallow roughly, each word that leaves Aurelia’s lips a sledgehammer to my chest. My heart caves bit by bit with the gut wrenching mantra my brain is torturing me with.
Not taken a mistress.
Smitten with his betrothed.
King Raphael.
So that’s the name he goes by here.
I fucking despise it.
Aurelia finally shuts up and gestures for me to stand. Another genuine smile graces her lips as she admires her handiwork. “You are very beautiful,” she says shyly.
Aurelia raises her palm toward another mirror, finally allowing me a glimpse of the bedroom.
Navy silk sheets lie upon a silver-crafted four poster bed frame, large enough to fit five people comfortably.
Fire roars within a cream colored mantle across from the bed, and I finally bring my attention to the shimmering, floor-length mirror beside it boasting the same silver as the bedframe.
Not a stitch falls out of place on my dress, despite my crawling across Hades’ floor and waking up on the ground of a macabre forest. Though Mira was heavy on the blush, she applied just the right amount of kohl to my eyelids, brightening the blue, while the rouge on my lips enhances the green. Aurelia is right. I look beautiful.
Beauty has always been something I’d been aware I possessed.
I was never one of those girls who didn’t know they were attractive.
But being beautiful will only get me so far.
As King, I’m sure Nick has had his fair share of beautiful women throwing themselves at his feet.
I don’t want him to recognize my beauty.
I want him to recognize me.
“Thank you, Aurelia.” I nod in gratitude, smoothing my palms down my sides.
“Oh! I almost forgot.” She rushes over to a small dresser next to the vanity and approaches me with satin onyx gloves. Upon narrowing my eyes in confusion, she clarifies, “All the women wear them to the balls here. It is custom.”
Rather than argue, I allow her to fit the gloves on my hand. They reach my elbow, so tight upon my skin, it appears as though I’ve dipped my forearms in tar.
Aurelia steps back and clasps her hands in delight. “There!” The pleased smile on her face again reminds me of Scar. Despite their obvious physical differences, her gentle, warm demeanor almost makes me feel like I have my friend here with me, and that draws a small smile on my own face.
Mira’s dark eyes widen when we step out of the room, the scowl on her face disappearing briefly as she assesses my appearance. Without saying a word, she turns on her heel, silently demanding we follow.
I’m led down the stairs and back into the familiar limestone corridor.
The suns have set, and night blankets the sky.
Firelit sconces create a somber glow, making the corridor feel intimate and serene with the waves providing background music.
Aurelia walks by my side with Mira still leading the way.
Though it was empty when I arrived an hour ago, party-goers now roam the hall, all heading in the same direction.
The women are dressed similarly, in elaborate ball gowns of various bright hues.
The men wear black breeches with white shirts and brocade-embroidered jackets.
We continue down the hall, the accompanying attendees beginning to notice the stranger in their midst. They eye me with intrigue and an underlying hostility. I’m curious as to how they recognize I’m not one of them.
“It’s your eyes,” Aurelia whispers.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You look confused as to why they regard you warily. Your eyes give you away.” She gestures toward her own lovely face. “Everyone in Hell has black eyes. Only the King and his uncles differ, each having gold. And now you.”
I chuckle. “So what do they think I am?”
“It doesn’t matter. They just know you aren’t like them. You are something different.”
Something different. Haven’t I always been? Something different from a human. Something different from a monster. I should get that on my tombstone: Here lies Rhi Cervallos. She was something different.
I freeze, causing Aurelia to misstep and stumble into Mira, who turns to us with—you guess it—a scowl.
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” Aurelia says, fiddling with her fingers.
“You didn’t,” I assure her. “I just…thought of something.”
Yeah, the fact that my brain gifted me Nick’s last name.
And I loved the sound of it.
Shaking off the lingering daydream, I focus my attention on the massive door behind my two ladies’ maids. Unlike the other wooden doors of the castle, this one appears to be made entirely of gold with an intricate scene embedded on the surface that looks suspiciously like the temptation of Eve.
“This is where we leave you,” Mira says, gesturing toward the gilded entrance.
“You aren’t coming?”
Aurelia shakes her head. “Ladies’ maids are not allowed at such events.”
Mira’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “Surely, you do not bring your servants with you to balls at Lord Hades’ Court?”
Shit. I’d forgotten I am supposed to be someone of noble birth. I draw my shoulders back and meet her stare. “Of course not. But I had to be sure, considering you’ve been up my ass since I arrived.”
With that, I push past a stunned, fuming Mira and a giggling Aurelia and open the doors to the ballroom.
The top of a gleaming marble staircase greets me, as well as hundreds of pairs of black, narrowed eyes.
Swallowing roughly, I raise my chin and descend the stairs the way Persephone instructed: my right hand brushes against the banister, not quite touching the polished surface.
My stride is elegant and purposeful as I place one heeled foot in front of the other, staring back at the crowd of demons with equal displeasure.
Before I take my final step on the smooth, glimmering floor, I’m greeted by Baal, his features alight with mischief and something else I can’t quite place as his eyes devour every inch of me.