“There,” she says. “All done.”
My face is… heavy. Blinking is uncomfortable and when I move my lips, they’re slightly stiff.
Ellynne laughs. “You’ll get used to it. Come.” She nudges my shoulder, prompting me to stand while Lowri fetches a garment bag that is hanging on a hook near the door. Lowri lays the bag on the bed and pulls out an emerald gown.
My legs gravitate toward Lowri as I try to take in the details of the dress, but she drapes it over her arm, cutting off my view. I swear that I only blink before Ellynne and Lowri have me fully dressed. Then I’m staring at my reflection, at the cinched waist and the voluminous skirt made with layers upon layers of fabric. The outer skirt is made from silk and shimmers subtly in the light with each motion I make.
My hair is pinned up with loose curls falling here and there, the silver clip shining against my dark strands, soft coils framing my face. My rouged cheeks appear to have a healthy glow, my lips dark red and plumper.
I don’t recognize myself and the ladies gush over me as though I were royalty myself.
“It’s too much,” I catch myself saying. I fumble with the edge of my long sleeve.
“It might betoo muchfor a certain someone.” Ellynne winks.
Her meaning isn’t lost on me, but I don’t crack a smile. I’m too busy trying to find myself in my reflection, but it’s more like I’m masquerading in costume at a festival. Or worse, that I’ve given in to this dressmaker persona. It would be amazing to stay here. Away from worries, from having to find my next meal or having more responsibilities. Guilt churns in my stomach, and I have to tear my focus away from the unrecognizable young woman in the mirror.
Taking a steadying breath, I step back and summon the most genuine smile I can. “Thank you,” I say to Ellynne and Lowri.
I’m surrounded by men and women dressed in an array of colors. I’ve never seen so much vibrance in one gathering. The atmosphere is cheerful and carefree. The ballroom is immense. Several chandeliers hang from the high, domed ceiling, the crystals iridescent in the candlelight. A large square of lacquered wood makes up the dancefloor in the middle of the ornate tiles that cover the rest of the banquet hall’s floor.
Long oak tables border the ballroom, white candles hanging over them, illuminating the golden plates with pristine napkins folded neatly in front of each seat. Garlands of green foliage add to the ivory lace runners that decorate every table.
On a dais near the dancefloor, a small string ensemble plays, accompanied by a couple percussionists, and their jovial music thuds through me. Ellynne is with Carys, expected to help her to the very last moment before her grand entrance. Mercifully, Lowri remains beside me, but she’sconstantly fidgeting and does nothing to soothe my hammering heart. I am more than happy to stand here, statue still, the entire Feast—walking in these heels feels like walking on slick stepping stones.
I wipe my sweaty palms on my dress and clasp my hands together. It grows more awkward by the moment, standing on the sidelines, trying to make myself invisible. Beside me, Lowri is doing the same. She’s in a cornflower blue dress that makes her azure eyes stand out.
“Have you been to one of these Feasts before?” I ask her, trying to make conversation and diffuse our nerves.
She smiles painfully and shakes her head. “I’ve only been here for about eleven months. I arrived shortly after last year’s Feast. So, I just missed it.”
“So, we’re both new to this.”
She giggles and nods again, her head swiveling around the large space, taking in the sight of the nobles mingling. Her gaze falls on the large clock over the double-door entrance on one side of the ballroom. Her impatience is palpable, and I can relate. I can’t wait for the Feast to be over so I can go home.
I can already feel little Taig in my arms.
Once I’m home, I’m keeping an even lower profile. No more dressmaker Durvla. I am an older sister, a caregiver. A botanist. As grand as Ellynne’s plan for me was, I have no intention of leaving the comfort of my home again. I’ve had my share of adventure.
“—being the help is that no one really pays attention,” says Lowri.
I blink, having missed half of what she’d said. But I smile back at her.
“It works in my favor because I’m terrible at making conversation,” she adds.
I grin. “Me too. With strangers at least.”
“Oh, gods, same,” she says. “Strangers are the worst. One never knows what to expect of them.”
My response is on the tip of my tongue as everyone’s attention is suddenly drawn away from their own doings. All eyes gravitate toward one area, and I follow, facing the top of the grand, winding staircase overlooking the ballroom. There stands Carys, a picture of royalty. A magnificent picture in startling black and deep purple, contrasting the bright colors that are customary of these Feasts, apparently. I canfeelthe collective gasp that travels through the room.
I take in the black lace bodice and sleeves I’d so painstakingly worked on, the subtle dip of the decolletage—no one has seen how low the back of her dress plummets. My palms grow slick. What if the dress falls short? Figuratively speaking… I hope.
Her hair has been miraculously wrangled into twists and complicated braids, pinned efficiently, impressively to the back of her head. One would never know that her hair usually hangs freely well below her bottom. A beautiful tiara of gold with shimmering gems rests atop her head.
She’s met in the center of the staircase by a wiry man with umber skin and grey hair braided in neat rows. He’s dressed in a formal robe, burnt orange with copper thread embroidery on the collar and down the button panels. Carys smiles at him and takes his hand, continuing the journey down the stairs. He’s clearly important enough to escort Carys, but my attention snaps to the guard not far from them. A knight, with gems shimmering in his golden armor. I recognize his stride before I take in his dark hair, slicked back into a tight ponytail at the nape of his neck. No strands fall over his forehead as they often do, and his face is stony, giving away nothing.
Kilkenny.
