by A C Wilds
“Azra, Azra? Did you hear anything I said? Where did you go?”
“I’m good. I just zoned out for a second.”That’s it, smooth one, Az. I walk Red through the course counting steps and adjusting how I want to approach each hurdle. When I am done, I get back up on Red and trot him around the course before I set myself up. Rounding the first obstacle, I count my strides until we approach the jump. My heart rate picks up, my breath comes a bit quick, and I began to feel a little nervous that I forgot how to do this. With my back rod-straight and my heels down, I give Red the command to jump. My body leans forward in a 45-degree angle as his front legs come up. It is a glorious feeling. As he arches the jump, I keep my position and his back legs clear the rest of the obstacle. We hit the ground with a soft thud and pick up the pace to get ready for the next jump. Red is unreal. It is the most joy I have felt in the last two years. I yip a loud whoop with a mini fist pump as we clear the final obstacle. I lean in and give Red a friendly pat on his neck and a huge hug.
“Good boy! That was amazing. You’re some horse. Thank you for riding with me today,” I tell Red, with so much affection. I am getting a little teary-eyed coming down from the adrenaline rush. I don’t want Cass to see my release, so I walk Red around the course until we are able to both cool off a bit.
“You did a fine job on that course. Our times were only 30 seconds apart. Of course, I won, but it was still a good first try,” Cass says, all smug. His face has that cocky look again. I want to punch him in the throat and then bite it at the same time.
“I’ll take that as a compliment and not as the backhanded comment you meant it to be,” I say, sliding down off Red. I flip the reins over his head and began to lead him back into the stables. He needs a good brushing after all that work. Maybe I can get my hands on some carrots and apples from the kitchen and bring them to him later.
We walk together in companionable silence. I look over at Cass through the corner of my eye and relish his beauty. He is such a handsome, stoic male specimen. It’s too bad he acts like an arrogant asshole. Do I know how pick them or what? When we got back to the stalls, I start taking off all of Red’s tack. I have him stripped and on cross ties when Cass speaks up.
“You don’t have to do that you know,” he says, with a tone of consideration. He knows I want to, but I don’t think the prince in him understands. He still has Storm tacked and is standing off to the side. You can tell the horse doesn’t want to be suited up anymore, but it seems like Cass is waiting for someone.
“I know, but after the ride we just had, it would be rude of me not to. You should probably get that tack off Storm too. He looks tired and could use a rub down,” I say over my shoulder, while I continue to brush Red down. His coat is still sweaty, so I scrub him with the curry comb while he returns to his normal temperature. You can tell he is enjoying himself. He is drifting into me with every stroke. Cass finally takes off Storm’s saddle and bridle and hooks him up to the cross ties opposite me. He takes a dandy brush, which is a soft bristle brush and starts on Storms side.
“You really should use a curry comb or a sweat scraper. He’s too sweaty for a dandy brush,” I say. I wonder if he ever has groomed a horse before? His Highness in the muck and dirt, cleaning a dirty horse. This brings a chuckle to my lips, and I smile over at Cass. He catches me and gives me a bit of a saucy wink like he knows exactly what I am thinking. It takes about 30 minutes to finish up. I am sweaty and grimy, smelling like a horse. I revel in it, but I need a shower and a change. The sun is high in the sky when we step out of the stables. We must have been in there most of the morning. It is a beautiful day. The clouds are big and fluffy, and the breeze feels good on my skin. I’ve had an excellent morning, but I am worried about what is to come.
“Cass, when are we having that meeting with your father? Not that I am looking forward to it, but I need some answers.”
“He wants to meet after dinner. You can have the rest of the day to yourself, and we will meet with him in the drawing room when dinner is over.”
“You mean I get to be alone for a bit? I thought you were supposed to be keeping an eye on me?”
“As much as I’d love to keep my eyes glued to you all day, I have some matters that need attending. Your tailor will be in your room, ready for you to be fitted for your wardrobe. You’ll be plenty occupied without me.”
“Oh…sure, that sounds fun.” I roll my eyes at him. Nothing about having another Fae measure me for clothes that I am going to hate sounds fun to me.
“You seem disappointed, Azra? I thought you didn’t like my company?”
“Cass, I want to believe you are the good person I saw today, but how can I, when you so blatantly mistreat humans. I am a human, or I was, up until a couple of days ago. Don’t you see how much that hurts me?” He looks at me then, but this time really looks at me. like this thought never occurred to him. I guess there was never anyone to change his mind or help him realize all this was horrible.
“I have never been talked to so directly. I understand growing up you didn’t have all this, but Azra, this is always how it’s been and probably always will be. To speak about it so openly will only lead to trouble. ”
“I can’t accept that. I can’t accept a world where humans are being used and not compensated for the work they do. I also can’t accept that they don’t have the choice to leave this place. It’s not something that I could ever be ok with.” I walk away from him then. As much as it pains me to leave his company, I can’t be around him right now. He’s made himself clear several times now that he doesn’t see a problem with all this. I can’t get close to someone like that. I just can’t. Sean was a prick to the highest level, but his morals were intact. He valued human life and gave back whenever he could. It was one of the reasons why I fell in love with him.
I remember how to get to my room from my previous trip to the barn. Walking through my door, I notice there is a large trifold mirror in the middle of the room. A sort of dais is set up in front of it, and my maids are busy talking to a very tall, very handsome male who is impeccably dressed in a three-piece maroon brocade suit. They notice me walk in and all turn around at the same time. Megan scrunches up her nose in disgust. I imagine she could smell me from here. Dorothy just looks pleased and ready to go. The male, however, speaks up.
“Good Afternoon! My name is Miniel, and I am the royal tailor. I will fit you today for your wardrobe. We have lots to do, so why don’t you go clean up. I have put a light dressing gown in the room that you can use instead of being naked. I’ve heard that humans don’t like to be nude in front of others,” he says. He has a good point, however I don’t know how it is going to work with me wearing a robe. Then I notice a small screen off to the side, which I imagine will be where I will change.
I quickly shower and brush through my wet hair before putting it into a braid. I put on the robe and step out to meet the trio again. Miniel has a fantastic red dress draped over his arm. There is a rack behind him with similar style dresses and a table set up with different tops and pants. He even has a cart filled with shoes and accessories. He is like a traveling Nordstroms.
“I want you to try this dress first. You need something for dinner tonight, and if I have to have one of my tailors make alterations, I’d like to get it started,” he says, stepping up beside me. I accept the dress he hands over to me and go behind the screen. Looking at it stretched out in front of me, it seems too fancy for dinner. It has an off the shoulder sweetheart neckline with cuffs on the upper arms for sleeves. It is very form fitting and has just a dusting of black beading on the hem. It is mid-calf length, so it balances out the open top, but I still think it is too much. Putting it on, I quickly realize the luxury of the material. It feels light and comfortable. I don’t need a bra, as there are built in cups, so I only have to put on the underwear that is laying out on the side table. I step out to show everyone the dress and Miniel’s face lights up into a huge smile.
“That looks amazzzzinng on you!” he pract
ically squeals. “Come here! I need to look at you in front of the mirror.”
I walk over to him. Stepping up on the dais, I do a little twirl to show off the back of the dress. I know, twirl…insert eye roll, but I am a girl and like girly things. He seems to have picked out the right style — something I would wear. “I love this. Did you pick it out?” I ask.
“Yes, I took one look at your complexion and immediately came up with a color palette for you. What is your normal dress size? I’m guessing a 12 or 14?”
“I’m usually a 14 in dresses because I don’t like them too tight. The 12 is always good for tops though, since I don’t have a lot up here,” I say, pointing to my chest. They are a B cup, but not very full. I’ve always been self-conscious about them. They seem to sag just a bit and don’t look very attractive out of a bra in my opinion.
“Don’t worry, that’s what a good push up is for.” He brushes it off like it doesn’t matter. He then gets to work, measuring and pinning as he goes. I don’t think the dress needs anything, but then I see where he nips and tucks, and it makes all the difference. It transforms the dress from beautiful to otherworldly. We work through my whole wardrobe, and by the time we are done, it is already dusk. The sun is making its way under the horizon, and the sky is turning a mix of oranges and reds. From the window, all I can see is the pretend forest and the gardens below. I hadn’t realized how pretty everything would look from up here. It is indeed a gorgeous view.
“Alright, Azra,” Miniel says, pulling me back into the room. “We are all finished here. I will send Dorothy back later with the altered dress and someone to do your hair and makeup. Your first official royal dinner is special, so we want to make sure you make an impression.”
“What do you mean, official dinner? Isn’t it just going to be the same people I had breakfast with?”
“No, you will be eating with the high council and the royal family. The King called this dinner so that everyone can meet the Changer. You are so important after all,” Megan says, with a nastiness only she could muster. I swear if this woman were allowed to, I think she’d claw my eyes out. I wonder why she is so mad?
“Great, so I have to show off in front of all these Fae that I don’t know. No pressure. Are they all as arrogant and horrible as your King?” I say, with no filter. The look of horror on all three faces tell me I’ve made a huge mistake. I swallow, and I swear it can be heard in the bathroom.
“Never, under any circumstances speak ill of the king. Changer or not, you could lose your head,” Miniel says in a hushed voice. “There are eyes and ears everywhere in the palace, Azra. Mind your tongue, and be careful who you trust. Of course, we won’t say anything, but I can’t speak for the rest of the staff.” Looking at Megan I know that isn’t true. Given a chance, this bitch would throw me so far under the bus there would be nobody to see on the other side.
They leave then in a flurry of lace and tulle. My cage goes back to the way it looked before. I walk into the closet and find comfy pajamas made of soft cotton. I slip them on and lay in bed. I want to take a little nap before I have to face all those Fae tonight. To relax my mind, I began thinking the day through. My morning with Cass was incredible. I can picture myself spending a lot of time with him, but I wish he didn’t have such biased views. I can also imagine him naked and underneath me, if I’m being honest with myself. He is one fine specimen of a man. I wonder what he looks like without his shirt on? Before things can get too steamy, I drift off into a light sleep.
Sometime later, there is a gentle knock on the door. Reluctantly, I sit up in bed and call out, “Come in.” Dorothy walks through with the dress draped over her forearm. A slender, petite Fae walks in behind her. I can tell she is Fae because she has a tint of green to her skin. Her chin is pointed, as are her ears. She has bright green hair pulled up into a ponytail that oddly matches her skin tone.
“This is Sophie. She’s the makeup artist,” says Dorothy. “I’ll leave you guys to it and come back in an hour to bring you down to dinner.” With that, she exits the room leaving me alone with the strange Fae.
“Hi. I’m Azra,” I say to the Fae woman, extending my hand. She looks at it but doesn’t take it. Her hands are nervous balls of tension at her side, and her jaw is clenched. She is dressed in skinny black pants and a three button vest with nothing underneath it. Her boots are tall and are the only thing of color on her. They are a deep purple like her eyes. This woman is beautiful in an otherworldly sort of way. I wonder what has her so nervous?
“I know,” she whispers, then clears her throat. “Where would you like me to set up?” she asks, with a bit more confidence in her voice.
“Anywhere you're comfortable. The window over there gives some good natural lighting.” She nods, and starts walking over to one of the chairs near the window. Her big rollout case comes to a halt next to the chair. She begins to unbuckle the clasps and unlock tiny drawers. It all seems to unfold from one spot and my eyes go wide. There is every kind of makeup product you could ever want in there. So much color! So much glitter! So much of everything! I gasp as she pulls out these unique looking shadow palettes. They look like seashells, but when open have individual eyeshadow colors in a circle around the shell. The colors are intense. I wonder what they look like on? I must have spoken out loud because her head turns in my direction, and she looks at me with a question.
“Your collection is amazing! Those shadows are so pigmented. Where did you get them?” I ask her, a little awe-struck. Makeup is my passion. It was one of the things that bonded Noli and I. I wish she were here with me to see this. She’d die!
“Thank you,” she says quizzically. “I didn’t think you’d be into this stuff. Normally the Sidhe want me to just get it over with. It’s nice to have someone appreciate it all.”
“Well, you’ve come to the right place if you're looking for a girl who wants to gush over beautiful pretties,” I say to her, with a wink and a smile. She seems to loosen up then. I wonder if she thought I was like all the others. Maybe this prejudice thing isn’t only for the humans?
“I’m glad,” she says, in a release of breath. “Ok let's get you situated over here so I can start. We only have a little while, and I have to get to your hair also.”
I sit down obediently and watch her work. She uses so many different brushes and products. Her hands expertly paint it all onto my face. After she is satisfied with her work, she turns to my hair. She takes out the braid and begins to weave a more intricate design onto my head. She braids one side and gathers the rest of the hair over with these little clear pins. They look like bobby pins, but in the right light, it’s like they disappear. My dark inky curls run over my left shoulder. I can see that she has teased them a bit to create a fuller look. The mirror is set up behind me, and I am vibrating with such excitement. I need to turn around and see.
“Just give me one more sec,” Sophie says, with a bit of a laugh. “You're like a two-year-old.”
“Am not,” I reply, but I am, because I’m dying to see what she created. Getting dressed up has always been one of my favorite things to do. I loved playing dress up when I was a little girl. Imagination was one of my best playmates since I had very few real ones. I used to dream up magical places that held balls for princes and princesses to attend. I would use bed sheets for trains and tablecloths for skirts, and by the end of it I would fall in love with my prince and live happily ever after. How I wish things could be that simple again. Now, I’m going to a ball with princes, but I am no princess.
“Go get changed in the closet, and then you can have a look,” Sophie says.
“No fair! I want to see what I look like first.”
“No, you can see when you have your dress on. I want you to see the full effect. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”
“Fine,” I huff, marching into the closet. It’s a big enough closet that there is a chaise lounge in the center and a side table next to it with tons of room left over. My dress is hung from one of the m
any hooks on the ceiling which is a peculiar place for them, but whatever. I open up the garment bag and see the beautiful creation again. It indeed is a stunning dress. I take off the pajamas I am wearing and put them on the chaise. There is no zipper on the dress, so I step into it and shimmy it up against my body. Not having to wear a bra is going to be like heaven. Bras suck! The material is just as I remember it, soft and luxurious. I can’t wait to see what I look like. Stepping out of the closet, I head back over to Sophie. Her eyes go wide, and it tells me all I need to know.
“Azra, you look stunning. Miniel picked out the perfect dress,” Sophie says with a megawatt smile, just as I am approaching the mirror. I look at myself for the first time and almost don’t recognize the person staring back. It’s the same face and the same hair, but I look different. I look like I’m glowing, literally. My hair is all on the left side falling in waves down to my breasts. My eyes have just enough smoke in them to be seductive, but not enough to say trampy. I have on a lipstick that matches the dress to a tee. It all comes together so nicely.
“Sophie, what did you do to me?” I ask her, because surely she is the one who knows why I look like I just stepped out of a magazine.
“I didn’t do anything unusual. You were glowing like that when I came in. I just did a little bit of a smokey eye and a low side pony. You already had most of what you see here,” she says calmly, like glowing people are what she is used to seeing every day. No big deal.
“What?! That isn’t true. I don’t glow. I’m not a glowing sort of person,” I say in disbelief, because really, who glows? She shrugs and starts packing up her things. I don’t want her to think I don’t like her work, because I do. She did a fantastic job. I need to make sure she knows she is appreciated.
“Sophie, thank you for helping me. You are an excellent makeup artist and hairstylist. I am lucky to have you,” I say, with as much sincerity as I can muster. I want this girl to know we aren’t all alike. Wait, when did I start considering myself part of them?