Until Midnight: A Dystopian Fairy Tale (The Crimson Fold Book 1)

by ERIN BEDFORD

  “I mean, why are you here?” I gestured around the long ornate hallway. “Do you actually like all this?”

  Asher laughed. “It’s not as simple as like or not.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “We all play a game, Clara. One that goes back to the beginning of time. We pretend to be someone different to fit in, to survive. What we do to stay alive isn’t always something we like but we do it anyway.”

  “So, you’re just pretending to be my friend?” I peeked at him from the corner of my eye. His words didn’t make me feel any safer in the castle and I had the urge to move away from him.

  “When did I ever say I was your friend?” he shot back, making me drop his arm and turn in place.

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I settled him with a steely look. “You didn’t. I was assuming, but since you just pretty much said I couldn’t trust anything you or anyone else in this place says, I’m figuring I’m wrong.”

  Asher made a clucking noise with his tongue and laced his fingers in front of him as he stepped closer to me. “I didn’t say you couldn’t trust me, and I would like to be your friend. God knows they are hard to come by in this place, but I wanted you to realize what you are up against. This isn’t just some party where you will win a fairy tale ever-after at the end.”

  “I got that much, but back there everyone seemed a bit more invested in their scores than I was, and I’m getting a bit tired of being in the dark.”

  He gave me a sympathetic look before taking my hands. “You did something none of those other idiots has ever accomplished. A nine out of ten, and a red score to boot. This doesn’t just put you high in the running. It puts a target on your back. Everyone will be rooting for you to fail and will help it along if they can.”

  “But what does the red score even mean?” I asked. “Violet said her pink score had something to do with her looks? And the yellow one meant they thought you were annoying.” I smiled remembering how irritated Zara had been. “What does mine mean?”

  “It means, you’re being considered as a convert.”

  Chapter 9

  Asher left me at my bedroom door with one last piece of advice.

  “Make friends.” He locked eyes with me, gripping my shoulders firmly.

  I let out a short laugh. “That’s what Marsha said.”

  “Marsha’s a smart boy and if you follow his advice you will make it through this.”

  I sighed and shook my arms. “I’d have a better chance of surviving if I had to pick crops or slaughter a cow, than making friends.”

  “Well,” Asher chuckled. “As amusing as that would be to see, that’s not what they will be looking for. Now, go get some sleep. Tomorrow is the interview portion and you are going to need to look good enough to negate any fumbling you are bound to have.”

  Pursing my lips in displeasure, I left my sponsor there in the hallway. Where he went next, I didn’t care. The only thing in my sights was my bed.

  I fought my way out of my dress, leaving it lying on the floor as I climbed into the cool sheets. I didn’t bother putting on night clothes, thought I did pull the comforter around my naked body and fell into a deep sleep.

  Hoping not to dream after a long and stressful day was as useless as trying to sow a seed in a desert. While I couldn’t express myself clearly in real life, my mind did a good job for me. I shouted at my stepmother for putting me in this situation but she morphed into Zara with her razor-sharp nails clawing at my face.

  The blood dripped from the wounds and Asher and Marsha were there to clean them up with their tongues. I tried to push them away but they held me down.

  “We’re your friends, Clarabelle. Let us help you,” Marsha urged as he held one of my arms down. I whimpered as they lapped at my face until suddenly they were gone. I opened my eyes and found myself in the dark.

  A single candle flickered to life and I started toward it. When I reached the edge of the light I saw the hand that had lit the candle. My eyes followed it up to meet that of Patrick Blordril. Cool eyes crinkled at the sides as he smiled at me. I found myself reaching for him though I still didn’t know if I could trust him or not.

  The leader of the fold took me into his arm and I pressed my ear against his chest. Where there should have been a heartbeat there was none. Nothing, just an empty hollow for a chest.

  I jerked away from him my brow furrowed in confusion but he simply smiled fondly. His hand brushed the side of my face and he leaned down as if to kiss me. But even as my eyes fluttered close to meet him, he bypassed my face and shouted in my ear, “Wake up, Clarabelle! It’s another wonderful day!”

  Ripped from my dream, I shot up in bed to find Daphne at my side. Her hair was no longer piled on top of her head, instead braided into three separate parts each part a different shade of pink. I wondered briefly if she did her own hair or if she had a sponsor of her own.

  “Where’s Asher?” I croaked as I clutched the covers to my chest. Suddenly, going to bed nude didn’t seem like such a good idea.

  “Oh, he’ll be along shortly.” She waved a perfectly manicured hand. “I’m just making the rounds. Making sure all the guests get breakfast and such.”

  “But there are so many of us. Don’t you have someone to help you?” I stood from the bed taking the sheet with me over to where someone had laid out a plain shift dress. Picking it up, I frowned. Didn’t anyone ever wear pants here?

  Daphne snorted. “Usually, I only have twelve guests to attend to, but this year...well.” She sighed a bit irritably. “This year is different.”

  “Because Patrick Blordril is picking a convert, right?” I asked slipping the dress over my head. When I could see again I saw the astonished look on Daphne’s face. “What?”

  “Who told you that?” her voice had taken a low hushed tone.

  “Told me what?”

  Daphne hurried to my side with a sense of urgency. “That Patrick Blordril was looking for a convert?”

  Asher had been the one to tell me, but I didn’t want to get him in trouble if he was trying to help me out. So instead of telling the truth, I shrugged. “I just heard it around.”

  Daphne stared at me for a moment longer, probably trying to decide if she believed me or not. Then her dazzling smile covered her face once more. “Well, no matter. I’m sure someone would have told you eventually.”

  Doubtful. Highly doubtful.

  “Nevertheless, we must push on.” Daphne handed me my shoes and then turned to the door. “There is a schedule to keep and you will want to have a full stomach for the interview portion. It’s going to be just fabulous!”

  She disappeared out my door, probably headed toward another guest’s room to wake them up with her shrieking. I ran a hand over my face and came back with leftover makeup from yesterday. Grimacing at the disgusting feeling, I headed to the bathroom.

  The shower in there was nothing like I had back home in the Glade, or even at my stepmother’s. For one, it seemed to have infinite hot water. Usually, I was lucky to get a ten-minute warm shower before my stepsisters started theirs, turning the water ice cold. Secondly, several buttons line the wall next to the handle. Curious by their purpose, I pushed one and then yelped when a jet of water shot out and hit me in the backside. I quickly pushed the button again, turning the jet off. I ignored the temptation to try the other buttons and finished my shower instead.

  I toweled off and slipped the dress back over my head. I left my hair down to hang dry as I came out of the bathroom and into the now-occupied bedroom.

  “She’s here!” Neeka—one of Asher’s companions—cried out.

  The two other women turned from a table covered in fruits and cheeses, each of their faces lighting up in delight. Before I could be prepared, they rushed to my side, each of them talking at once.

  “Congratulations! I can’t believe you got such a high score. And on the first day.” Willow patted me on the back with a familiar hand.

  “I know, right?” Neeka respond
ed with a nod of her head. “You are the only thing anyone in the castle can talk about, and yesterday was only the first day!”

  “It’s no surprise really,” Rosel butted in. “Asher is her sponsor after all. No way anyone under him would score anything less than the best.”

  The other two nodded in agreement and then turned to me, finally quiet and waiting for my reply.

  “He did a great job. I owe it all to him,” I replied without much prompting. These women seemed to be easily appeased with compliments to Asher. I wished the rest of the guests were so easy to please.

  “Speaking of Asher,” I continued a moment later, “Where is he? I thought he was going to help me prepare for the interview?”

  “Oh, he is!” Neeka answered. “We’re to get your hair and makeup done while he puts the finishing touches on your outfit.”

  The way she said it made me wonder what needed finishing on whatever monstrosity Asher had planned for me. While, his clothing choices were lovely—definitely better than any of my stepmother’s designs—I was more of a pants-and-shirt kind of girl, and wearing all these frilly frocks made me uncomfortable in my own skin.

  The trio went to work on making me look presentable while chatting about the latest gossip in the castle. It seemed not everyone agreed on the number of guests this year. Some think it should have been like always. There shouldn’t be extra constituents just because certain people need more choice. It wasn’t fair to the servants who had to work overtime to keep us all fed.

  I listened to them complain with intent interest. They seemed to forget I was one of the guests when they were working, as if I weren’t even there. Which worked in my favor since no one else seemed to want to let us know what was going on.

  “There!” Willow finally announced. “You are ready for Asher.”

  Glancing in the mirror, my eyes widened. They had braided my hair along the side of my head so that it fell over my shoulder, and had inserted little flowers along each fold. My eyelids were lined in a pale pink, sprinkled with small glittering flakes, drawing attention to my dark eyes. I turned to the trio in awe.

  “It’s wonderful. Thank you.” I smiled at them.

  Collectively they exchanged a pleased look before doing a few minor adjustments. Then they started for the door. Before they could leave, I called out to them.

  “What’s it like to be a companion?”

  The trio paused and once more exchanged a look before Willow came forward. “What you really want to ask is if we were chosen at an Election, which we were,” she added before I could confirm or deny. “And I can’t speak for all of us, but it was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  I frowned at her explanation. “But what does being a companion mean? Do you...you know...with Asher?” I couldn’t get the words out, my face heating up.

  Willow laughed and the other two to joined in. “No, no. It’s not like that. Though some of them do but Asher’s not interested in sex. He’s an artist. Clothes are the only thing he loves.” There was a hint of sadness in her voice that I couldn’t bring myself to ask about.

  Instead, I nodded. “Thank you for telling me.”

  “No problem,” Willow replied with a slight smile. “Now, Asher will be here briefly. Don’t mess with your face or hair until then. Got it?” She shook a stern finger at me. “We don’t want to have to redo all our hard work.”

  I agreed and then turned away as they left. So, they weren’t collecting us to be sex slaves. That was good to know. But what was the point? Were they just lonely up here in their castle? I found it hard to believe.

  Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t hear Asher come in until he was reflected in the mirror beside me. Jumping in my seat, I clutched a hand to my heart. “Don’t do that!”

  “My apologies,” Asher chuckled and then surveyed my hair and face. “My girls did a wonderful job. Just the touch needed to make this outfit the best yet.”

  I turned in my seat to see the dress Asher had brought in with him. Lying across my bed in a pile of pink, lay the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I got to my feet so I could get a better look at it.

  I’d expected another dress, but this time, Asher had provided a two-part ensemble. The top was sleeveless with a high collar. It came to the waist where it billowed out in a cape-like fashion letting the dark brown pants beneath it show through. The only part I was a bit skeptical about was the triangle cut in the middle of the bodice. When I put it on it would for sure show more cleavage than I had ever shown.

  “I thought we might compromise,” Ashe said from behind me. “Something a bit more flexible in movement but still with a dash of flair.” He bent down and picked up something, then held it out to me—a pair of boots a darker shade of brown than the pants. “These only have a slight heel so no more losing your shoes, got it?”

  I blushed but took the shoes from him with a smile. “Thank you, this is great. Really.”

  As Asher helped me into the outfit he went over what would happen today. “Not only are you trying to attract them with your clothing but you will be asked all manner of questions to let them gauge what kind of person you are.”

  “Did you ask the girls those questions?”

  My question seemed to startle him and then his lips tipped up. “Not as many as they will be asking you, but yes. I was happy to find them.”

  “They seem happy too,” I commented as I adjusted the top to try and hide some of my breasts but it was no use. The top fit like a glove and no amount of fighting it would lessen the affect Asher had wanted.

  “Yes,” Asher mused. “We are all quite lucky.”

  “Do you think I will be?” I asked through the mirror. “Happy that is?”

  Asher fluffed up the train of the shirt before coming around to face me. “Your happiness is up to you. You can’t rely on anyone else to make it happen. But if you get the position I am aiming for, then yes. You will be quite happy.”

  He pestered over me a few minutes more before he announced I was ready. The result was stunning. I’d thought what he had put me in yesterday was daring. Today’s put it to shame. While the top made me look girlish the cleavage shown reminded them I was still a woman. The top contrasted with the bottom which screamed ‘I’m feminine but still tough.’

  “Asher, you are a miracle worker.” I grinned at him not able to stop touching my new outfit.

  “I know.” He shrugged. “Now, let’s go in there and show them what we are made of, ya?”

  The guests were brought to the same room where we had read the board at as yesterday. Food was again laid out on the long table and everyone was preoccupied with one thing or another. I quickly found Marsha and the others and headed toward them.

  “Wow.” Marsha stood as I approached. “You look great.” His eyes darted down to my chest and his face heated before he glanced away.

  “Thanks, Asher’s great.” I tried not to let my own blush show. I knew this top was going to get me more attention than I wanted. Even now, Narq stared blatantly at the open part and I had the urge to turn around.

  “You look really pretty,” Tillie commented dreamily.

  I smiled softly at her and then glanced over her outfit. Her sponsor had gone for sexy this time, dressing her in a form-fitting yellow dress with thin straps and a daring split only the side. “You look great too.”

  Before we could talk anymore, Daphne came in and started calling out names. Each person came forward and left the room. They were gone for a long time before she came back again, calling out more names. This continued until the numbers began to dwindle.

  Anxiety took away anyone’s desire to talk and barely anyone ate anything from the table. We seemed too nervous to hold anything down. I was suddenly glad I’d eaten plenty this morning, my stomach wouldn’t be able to handle anything now.

  Zara’s name was called next and she strode across the room not even glancing my way. It seemed her sponsor hadn’t gotten the memo that the leather look hadn’t worked for h
er before and I doubted it would work for her now.

  Finally, Daphne called my name.

  A lump rose in my throat and I made my way over to her, my knees shaky. She led me out of the room and across the hall where she stopped at the double doors from which we had begun our parade yesterday.

  “Now, just answer the questions as best you can. There are no right or wrong ones.” Daphne patted me on the shoulder with a reassuring smile. “You’re going to do great.”

  I didn’t return her smile. As she gave me a little shove through the door, she announced, “Clarabelle Feldman.”

  Forcing my hands down to my sides, I made my way through the room where The Fold sat behind a long table once more. This time, instead of a taped x marking where I should stand, there was a chair. I sat down, thankful for it. If I had to stand there the whole time I might have fainted.

  “Feldman,” a woman with bright red hair and long dangling earrings said. “I know that name.”

  “Yes,” I said my voice coming out scratchy. I cleared my throat and tried again. “My father is the overseer of the southern part of the Glade.”

  The woman’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Then what in the world are you doing here?”

  I shrugged. “You tell me. You invited me.”

  This caused the other members to laugh. I kept my eyes on the others and away from the ones I really wanted to see. They bore into me as they asked me question after question. How old I was? Did I have siblings? Things they should have already known.

  Then, when I thought it was finally over, Patrick Blordril spoke. “What do you like to do for fun?”

  I frowned at his question. We didn’t have much time for fun in the Glade. Or the means for it. Even moving to the Inner Circle I’d had a hard time finding something to fill my time which didn’t seem trivial.

  “It’s not a hard question,” he said a moment later when I didn’t respond. “Do you like to read?”

  “No,” I said, partly glad he was helping me along. “I don’t see the point of books.”