Fortunately, the three women agreed. “It is quite a beautiful name!” Chastity enthused. “Now then!” She clapped her hands together. “Let’s get started on you and your wardrobe!”
Four hours later, Gaia was exhausted. She’d been bathed, waxed, plucked, moisturized, oiled down, and made over into a Cleopatra lookalike. Sitting in a towel, Honor and Faith finished her last two cornrows as Chastity walked into the master bathroom. The girls moved three braids on each side forward so they fell past Gaia’s breasts then looked to their leader for approval.
“Stunning,” Chastity complimented. “A vision. Praise Jesus!”
“Praise Jesus,” Honor and Faith returned.
When all eyes looked to Gaia, she swallowed. “Praise Jesus,” she said dutifully, wondering how Jesus figured into any of this.
Apparently appeased, Chastity held up the dress Gaia presumed she was to wear. It reminded her of futuristic chainmail, but she wisely held her tongue. Standing up, she removed her robe, letting it fall to the ground. Chastity held the dress open for her to step into. Unfortunately, the thing was as uncomfortable as it looked.
Notwithstanding the silky inner lining, the linked metallic chains made movement a chore. The heavy dress was formfitting despite its weight. It started at mid-shoulder and cascaded to the floor. Its only openings were at her left thigh—the split seemed a bit high for the land of religiosity—and a dramatic, round opening at her chest which served to highlight her cleavage. A crucifix dangled just above her bosom.
She inwardly sighed. Women covered their hair and showcased their breasts in this crazy place? She prayed her memories came back soon. Hopefully once she had them she’d understand the natural progression that had led to this moment. As is, reality was jarringly unreal.
“Your husband will be so proud to have you at his side,” Chastity breathed out. “The beautiful, dutiful wife standing next to her dashing general of a husband.”
Gaia blinked. Beautiful,dutifulwife? She glanced in a mirror and gave herself the once-over. She wished any of this made a lick of sense.
The sound of bells softly chiming caused Gaia to look at Chastity—the source of said bells. Chastity held up a finger as she answered what Gaia could only assume was an earpiece she couldn’t see to a phone that was just as invisible.
“Is that so?” Chastity inquired. She grinned like the Cheshire cat. “We’re five minutes out from being ready on this end,” she told whoever was on the phone. “Let the general know we’ll be there in ten minutes.” After presumably ending the connection, Chastity giggled and clapped her hands together. “Your husband’s opponent has conceded. He’s delivering his concession speech as we speak!”
Gaia feigned happiness she didn’t feel. “That’s great,” she said with as much enthusiasm as she could fake. “It’s really… just… great.”
“Honor, get Gaia’s shoes. Faith, her headpiece.”
Gaia wanted to sit, but doubted she could in the dress. Apparently there was no time for a break anyway, as Honor and Faith quickly reemerged with their pieces in hand. Honor bent down and helped Gaia slip into a pair of metallic high heels. Faith came at her next, standing on tiptoe while she placed a chain linked hair covering of some sort on the crown of her head.
“Oh,” Chastity whispered. “So breathtaking.”
“Quite,” Faith agreed.
“The perfect tribute to our Lord and Savior,” Honor said dreamily.
Perplexed, Gaia turned and looked at herself once again in the full length mirror. Other than the crucifix dangling above her cleavage, she wasn’t certain how thedystopian-queen-from-a-science-fiction-movielook paid an homage to God.
“The symbolism in your wardrobe is hauntingly beautiful,” Chastity assured her as she came to stand behind Gaia. Their gazes met in the mirror. “Your headpiece is a modern day crown of thorns, your dress a reminder that only a husband holds the key to undressing his wife.” At Gaia’s puzzled expression, Chastity instructed her to turn around. She pointed to the back of her dress—the missing back that didn’t start until just above her derriere—and to the symbolic lock that held the attire together.
Gaia swallowed nervously. This was getting weirder by the second. She was afraid of finding out just how deep this rabbit hole went.
Chapter Eight
Gaia was escorted by Chastity, Honor, and Faith—and two Secret Service agents—down a long hall. The dress, while heavy, was thankfully easier to move in than she’d assumed it would be. She supposed the long slit up her left thigh was what made movement possible.
Their party came to another corridor and turned left. They continued to walk, servants bowing and curtseying to Gaia as she made her way past them. Perhaps she should have acknowledged them in some manner—a smile, a nod, anything—but she felt too much like a deer caught in headlights to do much beyond stare straight ahead. Finally, after what felt an eternity, they reached their destination. One of the Secret Service agents—Frank she was fairly confident was his name—rapped on the double doors to let the occupants on the other side know they’d arrived.
Gaia inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled. She had no idea what to expect. The double doors opened.
As she was escorted into the room, all eyes turned to her. She hesitated, feeling much like an exotic creature on display at the zoo. Glancing around, she tried not to make eye contact with anyone in attendance lest they speak to her. She just wanted Ryan’s victory speech over and done with so she could go to bed and sleep away all the craziness surrounding her.
“So beautiful,” she heard one woman gasp. “And I love her dress.”
“Such a tribute of devotion to her husband,” her male companion murmured. “And to her lord.”
“Praise Jesus.”
“Praise Jesus.”
