Chapter 12 The Bratzian Twins
Dressed in the finest gown she had ever worn, Celise accompanied the rest of the Dhastel family from the Moongazer Tower to the banquet hall. The sun was just beginning its descent across the horizon. Golden light filled the Hallowsin sky as breezy pink clouds trailed behind the mountains.
Celise’s heart fluttered in her chest like a bird trapped in a cage.
Her corset was laced tight, and her small breasts hiked up to an unimaginable height.
She could barely breathe through the stays that held the whole ensemble together.
A crinoline cage boosted up her skirts into a majestic bell shape.
The evening gown cascaded to the ground in a sweep of dove-gray silk.
Her waist looked sleek and narrow. A low, square neckline trimmed with white lace framed her décolletage.
Around her neck, she wore a simple black velvet choker, unadorned with any jewels or pendants.
Even without the glamorous tiaras, bejeweled necklaces and brooches worn by the other women, she felt like a glowing diamond.
Celise found herself staggering into a corridor of mirrors, a preamble to Gravenmere’s banquet hall.
Gold-framed mirrors of different shapes and sizes, each one polished to perfection, lined the hallway leading to the feast. She caught sight of her reflection.
Gone were her dusty coveralls, her tweed cap, her messy hair and twiggy frame.
She didn’t recognize the girl who gazed back at her.
She didn’t look like a boy at all. In the mirror’s reflection, a dainty doll with piles of raspberry-colored tresses stood with her hands bunched in her gray skirts, looking uncertain of herself.
She clutched the silk folds tightly. Dasha’s makeup had transformed her face from a plain oval to an angular beauty with high cheekbones and a pointed chin.
Her eyebrows were carefully sculpted, her lips painted a deep red, and her skin glassy smooth from layers of powder.
The transformation seemed like a miracle.
“Come along, girls,” Marcella snipped, floating past the wall of mirrors on the arm of Lord Dhastel.
Marcella’s cold, dark eyes drifted above Celise’s reflection without looking directly at her.
Still, Celise knew the reprimand was meant for her.
“It’s unladylike to gaze at yourself in public.
You’ll look vain and stupid. Keep walking, please. ”
Katrina and Heather passed by Celise with their arms locked together, their heads leaned close, giggling over some private joke.
Katrina wore a ruby red dress of shocking jewel tones, while Heather wore a soft teal green ensemble.
Neither had spoken to Celise since seeing her emerge from the Moongazer Tower.
The sight of her gray dress and simple velvet choker seemed to offend them, though Celise wasn’t sure why.
“It’s because you look so lovely,” Dasha had reassured her with a wink. “Keep your chin up. Go enjoy the ball!” Then the helpful maid had pushed Celise out the door, into the cool evening air.
With Dasha’s words still at the front of her mind, Celise picked up her skirts and hurried after her two half-sisters, staggering only slightly under the weight of the crinoline.
With labored breath, she followed the Dhastel family through the open doors into the banquet hall.
Their names were announced by a servant as they entered the room.
The long chamber was already filled to the brim with hungry guests.
Hit with a wave of anxiety, Celise paused to take in the sight.
Thick wooden beams bolstered the high ceiling of the cavernous room.
Portraits of the Blackwood family dotted the emerald green wallpaper that covered the walls.
A gleaming shield hung above a roaring stone fireplace with the Blackwood coat-of-arms prominently displayed: a green dragonfly floating on a field of black.
Dozens of round tables, each seating about ten guests, were laid throughout the room.
At the very front of the room was a long rectangular table where the Blackwood family sat with a few close acquaintances.
Celise’s eyes, which were used to counting horses on the range, quickly estimated about three hundred guests in attendance.
The rich smell of roasted venison stew and spices filled the room to the rafters.
Servants walked around with trays full of cured meats, fruits and cheeses.
Others carted around vats of rich creamy soup and baskets of fluffy bread, roasted vegetables, and delicate greens.
A servant with a cart full of meat pies skirted around their party, heading for the tables, and Celise’s mouth began to water.
She had never seen such a gourmet affair in her life!
She hadn’t eaten since the day before, and her stomach was groaning.
Then her eyes returned to the front of the room, where the Blackwood family sat at a long, rectangular table.
Her hands became clammy and moist inside her white silk gloves.
She saw the grayish-lavender hair of Meister Barbaros, and seated between the Bratzian guildmaster and Lady Estoria Blackwood was a man wearing a black mask.
A knot of cold dread tightened in her stomach.
As she watched, the Mad Dog took a pitcher of wine from a passing servant and insisted on filling his mother’s glass. Estoria looked pleased. It was hard to imagine a grumpy military man like Elias Blackwood filling his mother’s chalice with wine.
Oh well. What did she know about the ways of a duke?
At that moment, two female servants approached the Dhastel family. With a bow, the first one asked, “Will the lord and lady follow me? We have your seats assigned.”
“I’ll escort the young ladies to their table,” the second servant offered.
“Lovely!” Katrina gushed, gripping Heather’s hand in excitement.
Marcella nodded her approval.
As the servant led the three young women away through the crowded room, Celise was a bit surprised.
It seemed the tables were arranged by age and rank.
She supposed it made sense. That way, the young adults could socialize while their parents engaged in less riveting talk about matters of the kingdom.
She was relieved that she wouldn’t be seated under Marcella’s judgmental eye.
She still didn’t know which fork to use for her salad.
Then her heart sank.
The servant was leading them to the front of the room—toward the duke’s table.
Oh no.
Celise followed behind her two half-sisters with her shoulders slightly hunched. Would Elias recognize her in a fine dress with so much makeup?
It seemed their table was just next to the Blackwood table—not close enough for conversation, but close enough for Elias to get an eyeful of his potential brides.
Celise recognized the same group of young ladies from the tea party: Bernadette Goodweather, the Bratzian twins and .
. . Ambrosia Verabon. She groaned inwardly.
Why would Estoria Blackwood seat Katrina and Ambrosia next to each other?
Katrina was already bristling. She hoped another fencing match didn’t break out in the middle of the banquet.
“Stop slinking about like a hungry dog, Celise,” Katrina scowled at her as they approached the ladies’ table. “Don’t forget to apologize for your rudeness yesterday. You caused quite a stir, wandering off like you did.”
“Yes, I will apologize,” Celise said softly, ducking her head like a servant. She winced and caught herself. She felt like she was talking to Marcella in miniature.
The servant helped the three ladies into their chairs and filled their chalices with wine.
Ambrosia Verabon, dressed in a stunning violet evening gown with lavender and blue accents, sat across from Katrina at the table.
A towering bouquet of flowers blocked them from a clear view of each other—thankfully.
The Bratzian twins were seated on Celise’s right, and beyond them, she saw Bernadette Goodweather and a row of other faces she partially recognized. The young ladies all nodded to Katrina and Heather as they sat down.
“I see you are doing well,” one of the Bratzian twins said to Celise in a thick accent. “You disappeared yesterday before the tournament. They said you were ill. Are you feeling better?”
Celise didn’t expect the kindness in the girl’s voice. “I am feeling much better,” she replied softly. “I went for a walk and got lost. I didn’t mean to worry everyone.”
“The grounds are expansive. It would be easy to get lost!” Bernadette Goodweather agreed.
“I’m afraid to walk through the gardens without an escort,” another girl chimed in. Was her name Lavender Dupont? Celise couldn’t remember. “It’s a little scary how large this place is. Even with the signage on the garden paths, it’s easy to get turned around.”
The other girls all nodded, and the Bratzian twins smiled at her.
Celise smiled back.
The only girl not smiling was Katrina.
As Celise looked around the table, she got the distinct impression that only Katrina was upset by her behavior the day before. The other girls seemed more concerned about her well-being than offended by her absence.
Of course Katrina would be offended, Celise thought, because I embarrassed her.
But the other ladies were not like Katrina or Marcella.
Celise felt some of her tension ease. Perhaps she didn’t seem as out-of-place at the table as she felt.
The servants began filling their plates with a small portion from each menu item. With a slight flush in her cheeks, Celise asked for two of the meat pies. She received a sharp look from Katrina, but the other girls didn’t seem to mind. One of the Bratzian twins followed her example.