Chapter Forty-Nine
Analleia
I stared at the sparkling skirt, trying to figure out how I would hide the bow inside. It broke down into three pieces, but its bulkiness would bring attention to the fact something was hidden beneath the fabric. I racked my brain, trying to come up with a solution.
Acquiring the dress had been no small task.
I’d had to stake out one of the dress shops, sneak in through the back without being noticed, and go through the racks, looking for a suitable dress close to my size.
After memorizing the name on the dress, I left the shop only to storm back in the front door and demand that my mistress needed the dress immediately and her maids would finish up anything unfinished.
The flustered dressmaker argued that she could have it finished within the day, but I didn’t back down until she surrendered the dress. I did my best not to smile on the way out, letting go of the anxiety that had gripped me.
I’d sewn five arrows into the seams of the skirt.
The upper shaft was held in place by two ribbons that I attached to the lining, and the arrowhead was nestled in a little pocket I had created by cutting out one of the inner layers of fabric.
The skirt was wide enough that I could move easily with the arrows, but sitting down would be tricky—possibly out of the question.
I’d risk breaking one of the shafts. I might have to stand during the carriage ride to the palace.
My invitation to the finale had already been secured. I’d sneaked into the room of the woman the dress was intended for, lacing her tea with a poison just strong enough to bring on a fever, and took the invitation from her dresser side table.
She’d have no need of it now.
I stared at the pieces of the bow before me.
I would wear my black leggings beneath the gown, but had to wear only the dress for the top.
The cream-colored dress was overlaid with a shimmering gold tulle.
I used a section of that fabric to create a veil that would cover the lower half of my face, leaving only my eyes exposed.
I looked in the mirror, examining my distinguishable blue eyes.
I’d applied special dye to my face, but it was only enough to change my skin tone to a warm honey color.
It helped disguise my pale skin, but only so much that it appeared I’d spent an entire summer lying in the sun.
My blond hair was concealed beneath a wig of dark tresses.
I willed my eyes to turn brown, to hide my identity, but they remained the same as ever.
They would see me for what I was—a fraud. I would have to keep my head down.
I returned to the bow, picking up its pieces in my hands, testing the weight. Even if I strapped them to my legs, they would be an obstruction and anyone with any amount of eyesight would be able to tell I was concealing something within my skirts. Which would warrant a search.
I needed another way to get them into the ball. My eyes drifted out the window to the meat shop where skinned animals hung upside down. An idea birthed in the back of my mind, and a wicked smile tilted my mouth up.