I opened my mouth. Meredith loathed Lilith. Why would she agree with her, and of all times, during a makeup argument?
“Lilith, you can sit around knitting blankets, clinging to your family’s rotting tree, while I’m going to go get some actual work done. Promotion is mine, darling. Game. On.” Meredith pivoted on her heel and marched toward one of the hallways attached to the circular lobby. Lilith smirked at me one more time. I did the mature thing and avoided sticking out my tongue. I couldn’t resist a parting line, though. I pointed at her blanket and said, “Your stitches are sloppy.”
So maybe I’d have to check the manual and see if there was a section on better insults. Regardless, I held my chin high as I hurried past the tiara wall to where Meredith waited on a velvet bench. She patted the spot next to her.
“Sorry I lost my cool. That woman gets under my skin.”
“Yeah, well, her skin has scales underneath it.”
Meredith snickered. Where was that line when I’d said the stupid stitches thing?
“What was that all about anyway?” I asked. “I know Lilith is vicious, but you two seemed like you were out for blood.”
“Ever since the news broke that Genevieve might be retiring, the whole agency has been on edge. When the Head of Council leaves, everything is restructured. Someone from the court will become the new head. That court member must then be replaced, so all the agents and coordinators of various divisions start vying for the seat on court. And when you start dangling promotions in front of a very ambitious group of employees, most who have MP, well…Façade will be unstable for a while.”
“Wait, so…divisions. Are there six, one for each member of the court?”
“There are dozens of divisions that I know of, more probably that I don’t. The court members are assigned two or three each, and Genevieve manages the main branches, like Central Command, Specter, and our subbing branch, which is actually called Glimmer.”
“I’ve never heard our division called that.”
“I avoid the word myself. Too sparkly. There’s also Bubble Maintenance, Mirage, Glamourification, Historical Preservation, Human Resources…I can’t list them all.”
“I don’t know about of half of those. Tell me about them! This is so cool.”
“Not now. Genevieve is the only one who knows how far-reaching the agency goes, and that’s because she’s the only one who needs to know. All you need to worry about right now is your own job. So hush about it. She’ll be here soon.”
“Who? Genevieve?”
Meredith ignored me, pulling out her remote and punching random buttons. Of course I had a million more questions to ask, but I could tell Meredith was already worked up.
She would have to be to call the agency “unstable.” Looking around at the stone walls, I had never seen anything more solid in my life.
A few minutes passed before Genevieve rounded the corner. I had known she was important before, but now that Meredith told me how important, the sight of her caused me to sit up straighter. Genevieve’s rainbow hair was perfectly curled, and her wizened brown eyes crinkled when she smiled. She looked like a modern-day Mrs. Claus in her red business suit. Mrs. Claus, if she ditched Santa, dyed her hair, and took on the most powerful job in the world.
She held out her arms. “Thank you for waiting. So sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”
Meredith stood and air kissed Genevieve. Next, Genevieve turned to me and gave me a delicate hug, her vanilla-and-cinnamon scent clinging to me long after she’d let go. “Desi. Welcome back. Did you have a nice break? Anything exciting in…is it Montana?”
“Idaho.” I glanced at Meredith to make sure it was all right to correct someone so much higher up. “And I just started school a few weeks back.”
“Oh, how fun! I always loved my adolescent studies. Although, BEST proved to be as essential. And since you’re here, you’ve obviously completed your tasks for your next client, yes?”
I nodded.
“Then that will allow us to focus on you today and what your skills are as a sub.”
“Oh, so you’re doing the initiation today? I’m…I’m honored.”
“I take all our Level Twos to Dorshire Hall,” Genevieve said. “It’s one of my favorite traditions at Façade.”
“Thank you. Are you sure you’re not too busy?”
“Time. Pish.” Genevieve patted my hand. “You forget, we have all the time in the world. Little company perk. The Law of Duplicity means we don’t age as quickly.”
The Law of Duplicity was Façade’s version of time travel. I didn’t understand the science (or magic) behind the law, but Façade was able to magically manipulate time so that my home life practically stood still while I was away subbing. When I came home, time played out like I had been in two places at once. Sometimes my return was a second or two off, but otherwise…Blows my mind. “So the bubble traveling makes you age slower?”
“Seemingly, yes. The right skin creams also help.”
“Well, I’ll be going, then,” Meredith said. “You’re in for an absolute treat, Desi. Dorshire Hall is one of a kind. Meet me over in the Glamourification Studio when you’re done—it’s across from Central Command.”
Genevieve looped her arm through mine and led me up a small staircase as Meredith hurried in another direction. “Now, Dorshire privileges are extended to high-level agents and council members, but we make a special exception for our subs when they start a new level. I like to get to know my girls. A thank-you for working so hard at Façade.”
Two French doors opened when we reached the top of the staircase. A graying man shaped like a sideways football bowed and cleared his throat. “Your table is ready, Madame Genevieve.” He then turned to me and appraised my still-damp shakespeare rocketh shirt and jeans. “I see your guest will need to be properly attired.”
“Please, Bosworth,” Genevieve said.
Bosworth bowed again and swept his hand for us to enter. The reception area was dark with wood walls. Immediately to the right was a coat closest.
No, a dress closest.
There were hundreds of dresses in every size and fashion. Bosworth motioned with his nose to a rack. “Your size, I presume. Pick what you like.”
Meredith wasn’t kidding. Level Two was packed with perks.
Chapter
5
I rummaged through the racks and came out with a simple black boatneck dress that looked just like the one Audrey Hepburn wore in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Genevieve nodded her approval. “Bosworth will provide you with shoes. You may change and meet me at our table.”
At the end of the closet was a small dressing room. I slipped out of my clothes and into the dress, which fit me better than anything I’d ever worn. And it was dry.
I stepped out of the dressing space and was promptly handed some gold ballet slippers and a quilted tote bag from Bosworth. “For the lady’s…attire.”
“Thank you, Bosworth. Can I call you Bos?”
“The lady may follow me.”
I shoved my T-shirt and jeans into the bag and followed Bos past the small entry to the sun-drenched dining area.
The regal excess of this job was to be expected, but even the richest of royals would have been impressed with the majestic glow of Dorshire Hall. Antique tables dotted the vast room, wallpapered in a lush cream damask. Seemingly every monarchy, past and present, was represented through delicate china, polished silverware, or priceless furniture. Pictures of hundreds of royals covered every inch of the vaulted ceilings, sloping high into a watchful V. We reached our table and Bosworth pulled out my seat.
So this was Level Two. This I could get used to.
Genevieve smiled at me from behind her teacup. “Bringing a sub here for the first time is one of my favorite parts of the job. Now, don’t worry about what to order; the chef’s five courses are preset.”
“This is amazing.” I swigged my ice water and scanned the room. “This is all…amazing. You probably hear this all t
he time, but I feel like a princess.”
“It is lovely, isn’t it?” She appraised the room. “Now, let’s get down to business. Before we discuss you, Desi, I want you to look at the portraits above us. How do you feel?”
“Uh…overwhelmed. And honored. To be in their presence. They’re all royal, right?”
“Not all of them. Dorshire Hall chronicles Façade’s history as well. You see the mother of our agency, Woserit, right there.” She pointed to a painting done in profile of a woman with dark skin and black-lined eyes, dressed in ancient Egyptian robes. “You remember Woserit discovered that the silt in the Nile had transformative properties. By disguising herself to protect her queen, she became the first substitute.
“After discovering that magic, Woserit passed down the secret of the silt we use in the rouge to her female descendants. For generations and generations, no one beyond her lineage was aware of the magic she’d unearthed.”
I stared at the portraits twisting up the walls. “So where did Façade come from if Woserit’s family was the only one that knew about the magic?”
Genevieve indicated another painting, this one of a woman with a sly smile, wearing a medieval headdress. She was posed next to a hunting dog. “That’s Beatrix the Bold. Beatrix was the first of Woserit’s descendants to explore the silt’s components. She found that the silt only worked on those with a sort of magical potential, what we now call MP. That led her to define and conduct tests on MP—who had it, what caused it. As you know, a human’s dormant MP ignites when it interacts with another organism.”
“Mine was fish,” I said, thinking back to the day I’d made a wish on the fish in the back of the pet store. I’d wanted to be a girl who made an impact, and now with this job, well…wish granted.
“Yes, I had a rather frightening run-in with a rhinoceros, but it proved to be for the best. Beatrix believed her MP was sparked by her dog. MP is unique to each individual, not hereditary, although Woserit’s magical descendants are highly valued at Façade.” Meredith took another sip of tea. “Beatrix was also an early scientist and inventor. She actually made our first bubble—nearly died flying it.”
“Busy woman.” I stared up at Beatrix’s calculated gaze.
“Shrewd woman. She knew that magical power should be limited, that if it was discovered, it could be used for evil. So she made a secret pact with world leaders—magic would be used solely on royals. In exchange, they promised to fund the newly founded Façade agency. We’ve followed her business model ever since.”
“But she gave power to the already powerful. And lots of monarchs are evil.”
Genevieve leaned back as our first course—a lovely cheese-and-fruit platter—was presented. “That’s partially why she made the pact. The royals have no access to the magic beyond what we provide for them. By agreeing to that limit, we hold the power, not them.”
“And what power is that, exactly?”
“Ah, that is what we need to discuss. MP. Now, subs can only use their magic while wearing Royal Rouge, but your performance can be amplified if you tap into your MP. Often, there is a particular emotion or character trait—unique to each person—which allows you to feel your magic more strongly. When you channel your triggering emotion, your capabilities for Façade increase. It takes years of subbing before you’ll even sense it.”
“You mean, like a buzzy feeling?”
Genevieve looked surprised. “It can be different for everyone, but that’s one way to describe it. When did you notice this sensation?”
“Well, Meredith said I could use my emotions as a way to get through a confusing job. So I felt the buzzing when I was…uh, I call it impacting the princesses.” I nibbled on a strawberry. “It’s most intense when I’m trying to make a choice, deciding what my clients would want, kind of feeling their drama for them. Gets pretty intense.”
“Interesting.” Genevieve tapped her lips with her finger. “Play with that more. Figure out what those moments most have in common. We call it magic potential for a reason—the more you learn to tune into it, the stronger your power becomes.”
“I’ve never thought of it as a power.”
“Then start. It’s important that you’re aware. Which is why we have these discussions. Your superiors should be informed concerning your experiences—lets us know how best to help you and our clients.”
“Well, something weird happened earlier today.” I pushed my plate to the side and scooted in. “Okay. I was trying out for my school play and I felt that same buzzy feeling when I was getting into character. For the role of Helena. So I thought of her like I do the princesses, really tried to imagine—”
“Well, that’s different.” Genevieve made an odd face, like I’d dug in to my food with my bare hands. “You can’t use your magic apart from Façade purposes, of course. MP is merely the potential for magic. Without our monitoring, without the rouge, you have no capabilities.”
“But I don’t understand why it would feel the same.”
Genevieve patted my hand. “Emotions can be hard to decipher. Perhaps you were extremely nervous.”
“When I’m nervous, I get sick. This was more like the time I decided Elsa liked Karl, so I kissed—”
“It’s probably best we don’t discuss that particular incident, my dear.” Genevieve smiled kindly. “Oh, Chef’s second course is coming. I adore his cranberry salad.”
My face flushed with heat. Brilliant—mentioning to the Head of Council the act that almost got me kicked out of the agency. I hadn’t meant to bring it up, I was just trying to explain all the bizarre feelings I’d been having. I was beyond relieved when Genevieve asked, “Did I mention this china is over a hundred years old? Late Qing dynasty, I believe. Excellent workmanship.”
And then the moment was over and Genevieve continued on, sharing details about the room, stories from her subbing days. The rest of the food was served, course after course, until I began to wish I’d opted for a nice toga instead of the formfitting dress.
“I don’t think I’ve seen a sub eat like that since I brought Meredith in here,” said Genevieve, after dessert.
“Sorry!” I swallowed. “Was that bad manners? The food was delicious.”
“No apology necessary. My plate is clean as well.”
“So. Meredith. What was she like as a sub?” I asked.
“We’ve had hundreds of girls come through here. I don’t remember them all. But I do remember Meredith.” Genevieve dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “Despite some of her later choices regarding a certain prince, Meredith has always been dedicated to this agency. She’s an extremely hard worker and very aware and in control of her MP. She’s a wonderful example for you.”
“Yeah. Except I probably wouldn’t go with the chartreuse hair.”
“I see you more with a nice teal.” Genevieve glanced at her diamond watch and rose to her feet. “Speaking of, you need to meet Meredith in the Glamourification Studio. I hope you enjoyed our meal and chat.”
“Yes. Thank you.” I stumbled up. “You went all out.”
“You’re special, Desi. If nothing else, remember that. Subs are rare breeds, and we value your abilities a great deal. Without MP, we wouldn’t be in business. Now, as I’m sure Meredith told you, my dreaded birthday approaches and I must attend to some details. Best of luck with your Level Two adventures. I’m sure you’ll be a star.”
She leaned in for an air kiss, but I moved in the same direction and ended up kissing her hair. My skills in fancydom were going to need some serious work.
Bosworth escorted me back to the hallway, telling me to keep the dress and to maybe “use it as inspiration for further wardrobe adjustments.”
I realized once I was back down the staircase that I hadn’t asked Genevieve where, or even what, the Glamourification Studio was. I hadn’t seen anyone who could point me in the right direction. Maybe I should go back and ask peppy Bosworth.
Except…wait. This was the first time I’d been inside Faça
de without anyone hurrying me around. And since I didn’t have an escort, I could get a little “lost.”
I took my time wandering down the hallways, reading the placards on the artifacts that lined the walls. Suits of armor stood at attention as I fingered swords and royal crests. Every door I passed was a different size and color, giving me the feeling that I’d jumped down Alice’s rabbit hole. I didn’t dare open them—I was curious, not stupid—but then I came to an open doorway with façade travel etched on the glass. Open door = open invitation.
Inside was a single room with a small, empty desk in the corner. Pictures of tropical locations covered the walls with signs above reading luxury! and relax! In the center of the room were two thin couches and a model of a grandiose hotel.
I knelt down next to the model. Twelve smaller, private cabanas circled the larger structure, which enclosed a pool complete with rock slides and hidden grottos. A stack of brochures were fanned out on a table next to the model. I picked one up and read:
THE FAÇADE RESORT: Our exclusive royal retreat.
It was an answer to a question I’d never thought to ask. This is where the royals vacation when they use a sub.
It made perfect sense. You can’t let a princess ski the Alps looking like herself while her sub was back home pretending to be royal. So they were all sent to one place. And that place was…
Nestled in the southwest corner of the Bermuda Triangle, the Façade Resort is so exclusive, no one besides our clients even know it exists. You’ll get the royal treatment in your private cabana.
Façade had thought of everything. I snuck out of the room and tried to retrace my steps back to the main lobby, finally coming to a somewhat familiar hallway. There was Central Command, the place I’d first gotten my manual. Directly across was a bright pink door that I assumed was the Glamourification Studio. I knocked, and when no one answered, pushed my way in, sucking in my breath when I realized Meredith had been right about the Lilith comment: makeup here was a much bigger deal than I could have possibly imagined.
The Royal Treatment Page 4