“Yeah, no problem, I’ll hold,” I said. “So long as you don’t put on elevator music.”
Lockwood seemed to freeze, and then just as I was starting to worry that he had gone, I watched his watery silhouette snap, flicking water onto the front of my shirt.
“There. It’s done. Just be aware of anyone touching your hair.”
“Got it,” I said, running my fingers over my wrist. “And the Seelie sign?’
“Should be in place,” he said.
“I wish I could see it.”
“Ask your room for a mirror. You’ll be able to check.”
“Great,” I said, and imagined asking. Another pond appeared a few steps away. “Thanks, Lockwood.”
He nodded. “I will see you for the ball, all right? Remember what I said. Keep your head down.”
I nodded. “I will.”
A trace of a smile appeared on his lips. “Now … please hold.” And he hummed a few bars of something melodic and peppy before his silhouette collapsed back into the tiny pond, which then was swallowed up by the dirt around it. Which was good, because I was about to throw something at him. Playfully, of course.
Once he was gone, I checked my reflection. He was right; the sign was in place on my wrist, my wings looked fine, and everything else seemed in order.
“Well, okay, then,” I said under my breath, looking around. No faerie servants had made themselves evident yet, but it was just a matter of time, according to Nino. If I waited … it sounded like they’d try and bathe me. Being neither a dog nor a child, I decided to get that out of the way before they arrived.
The tub filled magically, the water swirling with little blossoms. The water was fragrant too, flower-scented oils floating on the surface. Small glass bottles rested on the side of the tub.
I poured something that looked like coconut milk into the tub, along with some tiny pink crystals that popped when they struck the water. I upended frothy foam from a jar into it. Mom hated it when I filled my own bath with bath salts and the like. She always complained about how it made the bottom of the tub slippery.
I sank into the water, exhaling with relief. There were few things in my life that I appreciated more than a hot bath. I scrubbed at my tired skin, and watched as dirt and other debris fell away into the bottom of the tub.
I kept my eyes on the edges of the meadow, half expecting pixies to come bursting in at any time. Was it standard service to send a whole entourage of people to help some lowly girl get ready for a ball that she’d been invited to on a whim?
I didn’t linger long, not wanting the faeries who were coming to help me to see me in this state, so I hopped out, the water draining from the tub immediately. All that was left were the little flower petals that had been floating on the surface.
“I’ll be back for you later tonight …” I told the tub, running my fingers along the edge. I definitely wanted to enjoy another a hot soak like this while I could.
Only a short time later there was a knock from … somewhere. “Miss Cassandra?” a small voice echoed in the meadow. “Are you in there?”
“I am,” I said, standing up from the tree bed where I had been sitting.
The door appeared across from me, and in came six faeries, each of them carrying dresses in all colors and shapes. They were led by a green-haired faerie with purple eyes and purple wings. He wore a long sleeved white tunic with a blue vest overtop, a gold cord tied around his waist. His tunic fell all the way to his knees, and he wore black boots and golden trousers beneath.
“Good evening, Miss Cassandra,” the faerie said, bowing his head. “My name is Felix, and I am your personal designer for the ball this evening.”
The other five faeries in the room arranged their burdens so that they could clap enthusiastically, beaming at Felix.
“Thank you, thank you,” Felix said, bowing at each and grinning at his plaudits.
“Um … hi,” I said. Having had no experience with personal designers, I wasn’t sure what the protocol here was.
“Mmmm, you are quite the pretty thing,” Felix said, strolling through the tall grass to stand in front of me. He was about a head taller than me, peering down into my face. “Crisp features. Though … your clothes,” he said, pulling at the sleeve of my sweatshirt. He gave me a curious expression. “I have never seen … such a thing.”
My stomach twisted uncomfortably, and my heart rate sped up, thudding in my ears.
“Oh, this? These are just what we wear in the hinterlands,” I said, nodding my head, trying to look confident. “They’re very, uh … fashion backward outside Summer, you know.”
Felix laughed. “But of course they are. How silly of me to expect anything else.” He clapped his hands, and three of the faeries stepped forward. “See these? I have made these myself and they are the very height of Starvale fashion. Whatever dress you would like, whatever your imagination can construct … We shall create the perfect look, just for you.”
“What about one of these?” I asked, staring around at the other faeries. One held a dress made of what looked like liquid moonlight. Another had one made from shimmering leaves that changed and morphed even as you looked at them.
“Ah, did one of these catch your eye?” Felix said happily. He snapped his fingers and a large full-length mirror appeared in midair, like a perfectly still river floating a few inches above the ground.
He pulled me in front of the mirror and I got a good look at myself. I could see that the glamour was holding around my hair. I lifted my arm to pretend to scratch behind my ear, and saw the silvery star tattoo there where it should be.
Good. Lockwood’s long-distance magic had done its job.
“Which of these did you like?” he asked. I could see all of the dresses in the reflection of the mirror. The ones with the leaves kept catching my eyes, a beautiful changing hue of blue and green, light passing over it like water.
I pointed at it. “That one.”
He clapped his hands and the dress was thrust into his hands by the faerie holding it. “Here we are,” and he took my hand in his.
My stomach dropped like I had missed a step. Was he going to undress me right then and there? “Uh, wait, I—”
Before I could finish, he twirled me around a few times, and when I came to a stop, I was wearing the dress.
It looked lovely with my pretend blue-green hair, and it echoed the ivy knotted in the braids Lockwood had given me. The dress draped over one shoulder, and was surprisingly modest, given all of the sheer fabric.
“This is beautiful, but … it doesn’t feel like you,” Felix said, shaking his head.
I looked in the mirror. “You’re not wrong.”
Felix tapped his chin, and then his eyes lit up. “Yes, I know just the thing.”
He took the moonlighty dress and hung it up on a peg that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, hanging in thin air. As he touched the fabric, it moved and changed, growing where he pulled gently, and retracting where he pushed. As he waved his hand over parts, the colors changed from white to grey.
We did the twirl thing again, and now I was wearing the moonlight dress.
I wrinkled my nose. I didn’t care for how wide it made my hips look. I worried if I’d be able to actually get out of the door. “Uh …”
“No?” Felix asked, brushing fingers against his chin. “You’re right. No. No.”
The dresses were all so marvelous to look at, but I just wanted something that wouldn’t make me feel entirely unlike myself to wear it. These were so … elaborate. “Do you have anything simpler?” I asked hesitantly.
Felix looked into my face, as if trying to find the very essence of my soul.
“Simpler? Hmm … yes … I can do simpler.”
He clapped his hands and the other dresses disappeared, and he pulled a thin wooden stick from his pocket, and began to wave it around.
I watched in awe as a pale golden thread burst from the tip and started to weave itself together right before
my very eyes. It twisted and turned in the air, glimmering in the warm sunlight overhead. The other faeries watched just as closely as I did.
Soon the threads had formed a fabric that appeared to be lighter than air itself. The fabric grew and began to join to itself, and soon the shape of a dress formed. A narrow dress, with no frills or extras, just a slender pale gold sheath, sleeveless and long. He waved the stick in his hands once more, and silver thread flew out to join the golden, and a small, narrow braided band attached itself right at the waist, giving the gown a simple elegance.
The dress slowly drifted toward Felix, who picked it up and ran his hands over it. The fabric began to shimmer like a diamond as he stroked it.
“There,” he said, grinning. “Perhaps this is better?”
I looked at it, eyes wide with awe.
It was the most beautiful dress I had ever seen.
“It’s … perfect,” I said. I felt ridiculous getting emotional over a dress, but this one was just too amazing. I had literally watched it come together in front of me. With magic.
“Let’s try it on.” Felix smiled, holding it draped over his hands.
He spun me once more, and when I looked at myself in the mirror, I gasped.
I was not sure that I had ever looked quite so much like a woman before. The dress hugged my frame in all of the right places, yet was not tasteless in any way. It was comfortable, incredibly soft.
I wiped at my eyes.
I really wished that Mill was here to see this …
“There now, I’d say we’ve done it,” Felix said. “You are happy?”
“You have no idea,” I said, looking at myself in the mirror. Leaving aside the blue-green hair … I didn’t even recognize myself, but … it was me. No lie. Just an impressively crafted magical gown. “No dress has ever made me feel like this before.”
Felix grinned. “Good. Good. I must leave you now. I have others to attend to, but these five will remain and help you finish getting ready.”
I looked at the other five, and the gowns they had carried before had vanished, replaced with a variety of jewels in small boxes, as well as different shoes and shawls.
“Felix …” I said as he fluttered toward the door, which had reappeared a few feet away. “Thank you.”
He bowed once more, smiling. “My pleasure. And so nice to be asked for something … simple, for once.” His eyelids fluttered, purple flashing, and then he was gone.
“So …” I said, the five faerie attendants staring at me expectantly like I knew what in the world I was supposed to be doing. “What now?”
They fluttered closer, two of them bearing their offerings of jewelry first. I chose a simple necklace and tiny crystal earrings. I took a shawl from the third, deciding it might be wise in case the ball was cold.
Magic, seriously … I could get used to this.
The servants moved about me, clasping the jewels around my neck, others stepping up to help me choose the shoes I wanted to wear. As I watched them flitter, it made me wonder about them, who they were. “So, do you all live here in the castle?” I asked.
“Yes, miss.” A little pink faerie polished the earrings I was to wear before she handed them to me.
“That must be very … interesting,” I said.
“Indeed, miss, it is,” she said.
I looked up at her. “You must meet all sorts of people, don’t you?”
The faerie’s face paled, and she stared at me with wild horror, transfixed for a moment. The other four faeries were glaring at her as though she’d let a mighty belch or something.
“Y-yes, miss, we do meet interesting sorts,” she managed to reply. “But it is a servant’s job to hear but not listen, see but not understand.”
“I see,” I said, feeling a little guilty about how nervous I was making her.
I looked at the young faerie boy who was insisting that he put my shoes on my feet instead of me doing it. “And what about the ball? Who can I expect to meet there?”
The boy faerie looked at me with the same terrified expression, as though sure he was going to say something out of turn and get walloped by someone for it.
The faerie beside him shook his head. “We don’t know, miss. We just know that you will have a very nice time.” He grinned up at me, but man was it fake.
“Will the King and Queen of Summer be there?” I asked. “I’m supposed to meet them in court tomorrow morning, but I’d like to see what they look like before I get there.” I was trying to use my best casual voice, but it was very evident that these five did not want to talk.
“They will be there,” the pink faerie answered, nodding her head. She appeared relieved that I had asked an easy question.
Well, time for another hard one.
“What about Master Calvor?” I asked. “Will he be there?”
This time, all of the faeries froze, but only for the briefest second.
“We don’t know which members of the court attend any particular gathering,” the faerie who had helped the young boy replied, getting to his feet, my shoes now on and looking perfect with my gown.
I stared around at them, trying not to show even a hint of what I was thinking. They all seemed frightened, but why? Being Seelie, what did they have to fear here in the Court of Summer?
Or, conversely … what were they trying to hide?
“What do you know of the war?” I asked. “I was at one of the field hospitals, and it doesn’t look good out there.”
The faeries around me all sucked in breath nervously, almost as one. “We should not be discussing such matters,” the young boy faerie said. “We are not supposed to—”
One of the others jabbed him in the gut with his elbow.
“Will that be all, miss?” The faerie was looking at me with an expression of intense distaste. His tone was even, though it carried a hint of a challenge.
“Yes …” I said, looking at myself in the floating refraction of water. “Yes, that’s fine. Thank you all, for your help and your care.”
They all bowed, and left the room in one rigid line, considerably stiffer on their way out than when they had flitted in. As the closed the door behind himself, I sagged onto the bed.
That hadn’t gone well. And it wasn’t a great sign that the servants in this place seemed stiff and worried about discussing … well, anything, it seemed.
There was a knock at the door, and I leapt off the bed, my heart stopping for a second before doubling its tempo. “Yes?” I called once I’d steadied myself.
The door swung inward, and tiny little Nino reappeared. “Oh, my! Little Seelie looks ravishing!”
I smiled. “Thank you, Nino.”
“Is little Seelie ready to go see her friends?”
My heart jumped again. “Yes,” I said, twirling once, looking in the mirror one final time. This … was as good as I’d ever looked. Which meant I wasn’t likely to improve by just standing here.
“Then follow Nino. I shall escort you to the ball.”
I smiled, giving myself one last look as I followed him from the room. Nino certainly liked to play follow the leader.
As I walked down the hall, other faeries that passed me stopped to look. With each passing glance, the color in my cheeks deepened. I wondered if it was the plainness of my dress that was catching their attention? Looking around at some of the other attendees making their way through the corridors, mine certainly lacked the ornateness of their gowns.
Nino took off down the stairs ahead of me, but I knew my limits in shoes with any kind of heel, so I took hold of the railing, slowly making my way down.
I felt like a princess in a castle, my prince waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. Chalk it up to every little girl’s bucket list; be a princess for a day. Wear a pretty dress. Dance until midnight at the ball. Make it home before your carriage turns back into a pumpkin and your gown into rags. My shoes, fortunately, weren’t made of glass; in fact, they were very comfortable.
Oriann
a and Lockwood at the bottom of the endless staircase. There were a great number of faeries milling around them, all of whom were dressed in strange and incredible outfits.
Lockwood wore a bottle-green suit, handsome as ever. Orianna’s hair and wings were still grey, but she wore a golden dress, more elaborate than my own by miles. Still, it felt very much like her. I was glad she was allowing some of herself to show through.
Lockwood looked up at me then, and his eyes nearly popped. Orianna followed his gaze, and she, too, stared.
“Knock it off, you two,” I said, hurrying down the last few stairs to level ground. “You’re going to give me a complex.” I darted a look around. “I know, I know. Too simple a look for here, but—I couldn’t help it.”
“You look lovely,” Lockwood said. “Mill will be very unhappy that he missed seeing you in this.”
I smiled at him. Well, that wasn’t nothing.
“That dress …” Orianna said, “it’s so …”
“Yeah, I know, underdone—”
“Flawless,” Orianna breathed. She oozed sincerity, unable to take her eyes off me. “It’s perfectly understated. I wish I had worn one like it instead of … this.” She fiddled with a ruffle on her train.
“Thanks, guys,” I sighed with relief.
“Shall we?” Lockwood asked, offering his arm to me.
“We shall,” I said, taking it and feeling happier than I had been in a long time.
And we strolled down the hall, following the others toward what felt very much like a dream.
Chapter 23
It was sort of like being in a movie, but with faeries. There were handsome men and exceptionally gorgeous women, people dancing and laughing together. The colors were so bright I felt like my sight might be forever dulled after this.
The ballroom itself was easily as large as a football field, with vaulted ceilings overhead that were higher than a cathedral, tall windows all along the far wall made of stained glass, and large golden chandeliers hanging from above.
The floor was entirely see through, as if it didn’t exist at all. Far below in what must have been the hunk of floating rock itself, was a cavernous ravine, filled with mushrooms that glowed, pulsing and emitting falling sparkles like stars.
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