Chapter Ten
After breakfast, I wash my face in the basin and rake my hands through my messy hair, frowning at the circles under my eyes. When someone knocks on the door, I call apprehensively, “Yes?”
A maid enters. I presume it’s Hana again when I catch the red hair, but when she faces me, I recognize the other maid, from the day I snuck in and stole the shoes. They have to be sisters. Clothes are laid across her thin arms, a pair of new boots on top.
“Good morning, Miss. My name is Jinny,” she says, unaware I already knew that. “You can get out of that dirty chemise now. I have some new dresses for you.”
I wait. Am I supposed to say thank you? I was kidnapped in my underwear. I’d love a bath, but I don’t ask for that luxury. Would he even allow it? I move from the washbasin and mirror, watching her. “You are Hana’s sister, aren’t you?”
“Cousin, actually.” She hangs up three dresses in the wardrobe, plus a white nightgown and a pale blue dressing gown with matching slippers.
On the shelf inside, she sets down undergarments and the boots.
Then she shuts the door of the wardrobe and turns to me, bright smile stretched across her freckled face. “Anything else?”
“Yes,” I say. “I was told he was gone for the day. What time will I see him?”
“I’m not sure, Miss. He’s off on business matters, I presume.”
It’s not that I’m looking forward to it. But the sooner I see him, the sooner I can convince him to help me save my sister. “Will he return before supper or after?”
“I don’t know, Miss,” she answers apologetically. “I am still learning his habits.”
“Well, can I have some books while I wait? There’s nothing to do here.” I can’t help the whine in my voice.
“I’ll see what I can do, Miss.” She bobs into a quick curtsey.
“Do you know you work for a demon?” I test her too.
Nothing. Not even a hint of understanding.
Then she leaves me alone.
Lunch, supper, come and go. I use the time to practice in my bare feet. If I’m going to dance my way into the demon’s good side, I’ll need to be at my best. Although I fear even with the red shoes, my best will not be good enough.
Just as the sky outside lights with the setting sun, the door opens and the butler enters, uninvited.
“You could knock, at least,” I mutter, throwing him a scathing look.
He ignores that, saying, “He’s ready to see you.”
“Now?” I can’t help the crack in my voice as it rises. I remind myself: this is what you wanted.
“Now. Let’s go.”
“Can I at least put one of the dresses on?” I gesture to my crumpled chemise.
I haven’t changed out of it yet, in protest, but now I’m rethinking that plan.
I don’t want to see him like this again, so rumpled.
I will go perform with my head held high, and a clean outfit, if nothing else.
A woman on my own terms, or at least close enough.
Even if my filthy state didn’t already make me regret not asking for a bath earlier, I’d give anything now to have done so.
To show up looking pristine. As if to prove how unbothered I am by all of this.
The butler shrugs, turns, folds his arms.
“Get out.” I bare my teeth. “I’ll just be a moment.”
He leaves with an exaggerated sigh and closes the door most of the way. I kick it the rest of the way shut. There’s a chuckle on the other side.
I open the wardrobe and really look at the dresses. Although exquisitely made, they’re just dresses, nothing like my Red Clover costumes. Still, there’s a beauty to them in their simplicity I can’t help but admire. I move my eyes from one dress to the next, black, cream, green.
It doesn’t matter what I wear. If the demon wanted me to be dolled up, he would have provided costumes for me.
I grab the black dress, as it is the least embellished.
Black with tight sleeves and lace at the cuffs.
Black like my mood. Black like his eyes.
I clear my head of the disturbing image and shrug off my dirty chemise.
I pull on a pair of drawers from the wardrobe and manage to get myself inside the corset provided, sliding the clean undergarments over my dirty skin.
Then I put on a small bustle pad, forgoing the fussiness of a crinolette, and finally the dress.
It fits perfectly and has been shortened, just like the others—I presume to function more like a dancing costume.
At least they’re thoughtful, whoever had a hand in this. Was it him?
As for the rest of me, there’s not much I can do with my wild hair and pallid complexion, but I swish lukewarm water in my mouth to rinse out the sour taste.
I paste a smile on my face and try to look obedient.
Instead, peering in the mirror above the dressing table, I only appear crazed and desperate.
How I wish I had some rouge, at least. I would feel more confident going into this plan if I didn’t look so unkempt.
I drop the smile, walk to the door, and yank it open with a satisfying violence. I say to the butler, “Fine. I’m ready. Did you take the letter to my sister?”
“Yes.”
“Really?” I can’t help sounding doubtful. He had no reason to do me a favor and every reason not to. “Why would he let you?”
As he motions for me to walk, he lets out an annoyed huff. “Perhaps to shut you up.” At my look, he sighs again. “I had it delivered. She got it.”
“Did she seem alright? Is she worried?”
“I didn’t ask.”
“Of course not.”
“No thank you?”
I offer him a begrudging smile. “Thank you. I really do thank you.”
At least she knows I’m okay. If he’s telling the truth—though, why would he lie?
As I move forward, I remember what is about to happen. I’m going to dance for a demon. Worse yet, I have to act like I don’t mind because I can’t make him angry. More than one life depends on it. Act like a lady. Act like a lady.
I make my descent from the third floor, down the second-floor hall, then sweep down the grand staircase, which is in the process of repair since I last walked it.
If I thought it was impressive with broken rails and a splintered banister, it’s magnificent now—and only a small percentage has been transformed!
That must have been the hammering I heard while I was locked upstairs.
I can only imagine how wonderful it will look in another week or two.
We step through the sparkling foyer, which, although still empty, houses a chandelier that I didn’t really notice last time—new since the day I broke into the mansion.
Dozens of candles shimmer in the reflection of the shining marble floor as we continue on our way.
At last, the butler stops in front of a wide set of paneled doors. He gestures me in.
“How fitting,” I say under my breath. It’s the empty ballroom where I first met the beast. Of course, I should have known this would be where I would dance for him.
With hesitation, I walk in, readying myself to meet the demon again, face to face.
Ready to start working my plan, though what precisely it is, I have yet to figure out.
However, the enormous room is empty, apart from the piano in the back and a single upholstered chair up at the front—the same one he stalked around yesterday, though there’s no sign of the one I’d hidden behind.
In front of his chair, the rug, and on it, the slippers.
I try not to rush to them, to see them, to run a finger along the gleaming satin, hold them against my chest like a lover, though I can’t help but walk faster, unable to hold back my eagerness to put them on again.
I still crave what they give me, even though I’ve begun to recognize what they take from me.
Not just that they’ve become addictive—consuming—but because when I am wearing them, I don’t want to take them off.
Off on the long side of the room, the tall, sparkling-clean windows lined up in a row are now framed by new thick blue curtains that puddle elegantly to the polished floor.
They certainly have been busy in the last day and a half.
Through the windows, the sunset is visible—impossibly bright, orange and periwinkle spread across the sky like oil colors, something Sélie would love to capture if she were here.
The thought of her is a pang in my heart.
But she got my letter. I’m grateful for that.
I grab the shoes but don’t sit in the large chair to put them on. The idea of taking a seat in his spot is distasteful. Instead, I move to the floor and tie the red ribbons neatly up my ankles, reveling in the familiarity of the task. I can do this. I can dance for the demon.
“How long do I have?” I call to the butler. “I need to prepare.”
“Be quick about it.”
I roll my eyes but don’t waste any more time, making sure my muscles are warm enough to prevent injury. Still, it’s just barely enough before the doors open, and the demon comes striding in.