“I'll be back in just a couple of minutes with your peel,” she says.
I lie still, letting the warmth of the towels relax me for a moment. Ahhh…this is what I need—relaxation. But then my mind travels forward to me on my wedding day. Yes, not only am I going to be the most-Zen bride, I’m going to have youthful, baby-soft skin, and everyone is going to say, “Wow, look at how amazingly calm she is. She’s positively glowing.” Oh, and I’ll also make sure Will’s family feels utterly welcome and they’ll love me right from the start. And Will is going to be blown away by his beautiful, graceful, and unbelievably serene bride. It’s going to be perfect.
Kate returns and removes my towels. On a rolling tray next to me is a clear concoction in a glass bowl next to three aromatherapy bottles. She holds one up to me. "Please choose your favourite scent for your facial."
The first one is labeledRain Forestand I give it a whiff. It smells absolutely nothing like the actual rain forest. I can tell you that from experience. The next one is calledRefreshand claims to be a revitalizing, yet calming, oil. Smells like peppermint. I nod and hand the bottle to her.
"You know what else?” I say, turning to Nikki and Tessa. “I plan to use this opportunity as a way for Will’s family to feel welcome at the palace and in our circles, and to let them know I'm not the type of person who believes that everything is all about me. I want to incorporate their family traditions and make sure that they are included."
"God, no," Tessa says, sitting up. "Do not do that. Have you forgotten my wedding shower?"
Tessa's wedding shower was an unmitigated disaster with her mother forcing the guests to play all sorts of tacky games. It ended with Tessa dressed from head to foot in toilet paper yelling at her mother in front of a hundred horrified women. I wince at the memory.
She gives me a meaningful nod. "Exactly. So, as nice as it is towantto include them,don’t. My advice to you is this: have a long talk with Will. Find out what he wants to get out of the day—which will likely be something vague like getting married—then pick one thing each and realize that you'll be lucky to get that much. And make sure he understands that the wedding isn't for either of you, it's for the people of Avonia.”
“Well, that’s sort of a defeatist attitude, Tess,” I say.
“Realistic, not defeatist. But fear not, because themarriageis for you two, andthat'sthe really wonderful bit."
"Lie back and close your eyes,” Kate says. “You may feel a slight tingling sensation, but that’s a good thing. It means it’s working.”
I follow her orders, Tessa's words swirling in my mind while I tell myself to calm down and enjoy my level III anti-aging treatment. Really, I'm a tightly-wound bundle of nerves. I don't even have to talk to Will to know that he’d absolutely hate a big royal wedding. But it's not like we can sneak off to the jungle and have a private service. He'll probably tell me it doesn't matter to him, but at the end of the day, our wedding is the way that we’re going to start our life together. Itdoesmatter, and the last thing I want is for him to be standing next to me, feeling utterly tortured the entire time. The truth is, the entire royal life is a lot to ask of any man, especially one like him. There’s a tiny, nagging voice deep in my brain that tells me I need to be spectacular in order to be worth all the trouble. I can do that, can’t I? Be fun and sexy and wonderful at all times? It won’t be that hard. Yes, I can do it.
Slight tingling?It feels like someone has lit my pores on fire with tiny matchsticks. “Kate, it’s a little more than a tingle.”
“Some women experience it as more of a prickling feeling. Completely normal though, so not to worry.”
Good God, it’s getting worse. “No, not a prickle. It’s more of a burning, almost as if you’re taking a blow torch to my face.”
“Hmm…” she says, and I can feel her breath on my cheek which means she must be leaning in to watch my skin melt. “It is a little more red than normal. Maybe you weren’t ready for the Oxygen Goddess yet. It’s supposed to stay on for another three minutes. Do you think you can stand it?”
The line across my forehead comes to mind. Beauty is pain, right? “Yes, I’m fine,” I say, balling my fists up and sinking my nails into my palms to distract me from the fact that my face is currently being incinerated.
You can do this, Arabella. It’s going to be worth it because you’ll look ten years younger when you leave here.
But, bloody hell, that’s excruciating. It’s so very prickly. “How much longer?”
“One minute twenty.”
Get it off, get it off, get it off!
That’s what my brain is screaming at me. But I force my lips to stay firmly shut. In part because I’m terrified of getting whatever the hell is on my face in my mouth.
I hear the voice of another woman who I presume is one of the other estheticians. She whispers, “That doesn’t look right.”
“Do you think I should take it off?” Kate whispers back.
“I do, if that counts for anything,” I answer.
“I’d get it off. She seems to be having some type of reaction,” the woman says, a little louder.
Kate sets to work, rubbing my face with a wet cloth, which, honestly, doesn’t feel all that nice, but I lay still, praying it’ll bring me some relief. She and the other woman talk in low voices and I feel both of them working to quickly remove the acid. The other woman says, “So, Your Highness, do you have any important functions in the next couple of days? Like a ball or anything like that to attend?”
“Why?” I ask, feeling utterly panicked. “What does my face look like?”
I bolt up and look for a mirror, then see Tessa’s eyes grow wider. “Oh dear, that’s really red.”
“Wow,” Nikki says, covering her mouth with one hand. “You got a peel all right.”
