VELVETEEN PRESENTS THE PRINCESS vs. Public Relations #4
“Oh, corporate security.” The Princess smiled.
It was not a pleasant expression. “They’ll make sure he understands that while becoming a supervillain is a personal choice, it is a choice that comes with consequences.
And sometimes those consequences will include being blacklisted from all the products and services provided by a large, multi-national corporation that doesn’t appreciate people being disruptive during their official press conferences.
He didn’t technically break any laws, since the use of superpowers is approved in this courtyard and no one was hurt, so we don’t need to involve the authorities.
I just hope he doesn’t have any children. ”
Nervous laughter followed her last statement. Many of the reporters did have children, and were all too aware of how miserable their lives would be if they were suddenly cut off from the Princess’s parent corporation. She looked expectantly around the group.
“All right,” she said. “Who’s next?”
* * *
The press conference had devolved into predictable blandness after that.
Anyone who might have been considering a question that was a little bit daring or boundary-pushing or, God forbid, interesting had decided to hold it back after seeing their supervillainous colleague carted off by the birds.
And dull as it was, it had still managed to drag on for another two hours before her handlers had come in and rescued her for the afternoon parade.
Finally, another two hours after that, the Princess sat at her vanity and stared at her reflection, willing herself to find the energy to start removing her mascara.
If she didn’t, she was going to fall asleep with it still on, and no amount of childhood faith and trust could keep her face from sticking to the pillow while she slept. It just couldn’t be done.
“You survived,” she informed herself sternly. “You don’t have to do this for another six months. Now be a big girl, and wash your makeup off while you still have a chance.”
It didn’t help. She was still exhausted, and her face was still a sea of cosmetics.
She could have called the raccoons to come and wipe it off, she knew, but they always used too much makeup remover, and they weren’t good about keeping it out of her eyes. It was almost better to risk sticking to the pillow.
Someone knocked on the doorframe. The Princess brightened immediately, turning her chair around and leveling an accusing finger at the figure standing there.
“You are late,” she said, sounding almost triumphant about it.
“The press conference ended ages ago. You missed an honest-to-goodness supervillain. The birds carried him off. Now what do you have to say for yourself?”
“I got hung up at the North Pole,” said the woman in the doorway.
She was plump and pretty, with pale skin that glittered slightly when she moved, like all that glitter that the Princess had been slinging around earlier had somehow become a part of her.
Her hair was white, but not just white, no: it held all the hidden colors of the aurora, sprinkled through it like secrets.
Her cheeks were rosy, and her lips were faintly pursed, like she was fighting not to smile.
She looked tired. “I’m sorry. I would have been here sooner if I could have.
” She stopped then, looking at the Princess hopefully, like she was expecting something.
“Aw, honey, I’m sorry,” said the Princess, rising from her stool and pulling her robe a little tighter around her waist. “I shouldn’t pick at you, I know that.
I just was really hoping you’d make it. What with Vel gone and everything, I feel like you and me should stick together as tight as we can.
Do you need some cocoa? I know mirror travel takes a lot out of you, I don’t understand why your daddy doesn’t set you up with some flying reindeer of your own… ”
Jacqueline’s face fell. “Santa Claus is a very busy man,” she said, in the sort of tone that managed to imply problems at home and beg for understanding at the same time.
It was a nice trick. She’d clearly had a great deal of practice.
“I’m fine with using the Snow Queen’s mirror if that’s what’s easiest for everyone.
” She looked at the Princess carefully. “Is that…is that all you wanted to ask me about?”
The Princess frowned. “I don’t know what else I could have needed, sugar.
I wanted you to be here, but it’s all right that you weren’t.
I’ll tell you what. Help me get this makeup off, and we can go spend the afternoon slumming around the park, playing tourist. You know you get to skip lines when you’re with me. ”
Jacqueline Claus, daughter of Santa Claus, heir to the North Pole, did her best to force herself to smile.
It felt weak and insincere to her, but the other woman didn’t seem to notice.
The Princess was already digging for makeup remover and a clean washcloth, chattering a mile a minute about the press conference and all the fun that they were going to have at the park.
It should have been reassuring. It should have felt like normalcy, and home.
But this wasn’t normal, and this place wasn’t her home, and no one seemed to notice that anything had changed.
The world had been sliced open and had healed around her, substituting her for another girl, one with skin like a winter sky and hair like a blizzard in the process of forming.
She didn’t belong here. She had no idea how she was going to find the way home.
“Jack? Honey, you still with me?”
Jacqueline turned toward the Princess, forcing herself to smile. It was easier than it should have been. This woman looked so like her own Carrabelle, and she was so lonely. “Sorry. I was just thinking. Come over here, and let me get that makeup off of you.”
The two women sat together, the one helping the other to restore her sense of normalcy, even though her own normal was something far away and half-forbidden, and everything was peaceful, for a time.