“Nobody is taking my eyeballs,” I blurt out.
Everyone freezes. “You okay there, Daph?” Gwyneth asks.
“I’m overcome with all the,” I wave my hands in the air, “shininess,” I settle on.
“Speaking of shininess, we need to apply this to your skin,” the girl behind me declares. She rummages through her black box and pulls out a round jar with a big brush which she dips inside the pot. Beautiful shimmery powder, which glistens in the fading sunlight, clings to the bristles.
I take a step back. “What is it?”
The girl blinks and steps closer to me, brandishing the brush. “Glow powder. All The Hallowed wear it.”
“Wait, this is why they are shiny?”
“No, they are actually shiny. This enhancement allows you to walk in their blessed world for a sundown.”
“You don’t want to be dull, you’ll stand out,” the other girl adds, approaching Gwyneth with a matching pot and brush. “Plus, Charming decreed that you be coated in glow powder.”
“And I don’t want to attract the wrath of Charming,” my girl says with a shake of her head. “He’s cruel if he doesn’t get his way.”
She attacks my face and chest in a flurry of movement. The dust coats my exposed flesh, making me shimmer like the blessed Hallowed. The man in the mirror appears and eyes my appearance. “This is a most fair and fortuitous look for you, Daniella.”
I scratch my head. Wow, my hair has never been so soft or light. The cleanser stripped twenty annuses’ of dirt from the strands. “Don’t touch your skin for ten tempos,” my girl says. “Following that, it will set for the next three diurnals.”
“I’ll be shiny that whole time?” I check. “Damn, that’s potent stuff.”
“Unicorn horn is the best,” she mutters, putting her pots back into the box.
I choke on air. “I’m wearing ground up unicorn horn? Like the bone protruding from its head, right?” I grab hold of the Burgher closest to me. “Right?”
She blinks at me. “Don’t be ridiculous. Everyone knows what glitters on a unicorn, and it isn’t their head horn.”
I feel the urge to scour myself in the bathing chamber immediately and step toward it as a knock bangs against the door. The closest Burgher flings the door open and bows her head. Charming struts in and his eyes skim over Gwyneth like she’s a feast for his slimeball hands. Ugh, I still need to hide the Dranton root powder somewhere in this dress.
“Give us a few tempos of girl time? Alone?” I ask.
“You’ve had many turns,” Charming exclaims.
Gwyneth darts her gaze between me and Charming. “So what is the harm in a few tempos more?” she says, ushering everyone from the room.
“Fine, fine, I’ll wait a few more tempos. But then, sweet Gwyneth, you are mine.” The words might have been sexy if they had been spoken by a desirable male. From Charming, they were creepy.
She slams the door in his face and huffs as she bars it with her body. She jerks her head at her discarded bag next to the bed. I hurry and collect it, handing it to her. She pulls a small tightly woven hessian sack from the hidden pocket she thinks I don’t know about and hands it to me. I glance at my breasts. No room there. But I am wearing stockings, and the dress is floor length, so I tuck it against the inside of my left leg.
“Ready?” she mouths.
I pat myself down. “I’m rocking lacy undergarments, a purple gown, unicorn dick powder, and poison. I’m as ready as I can be.”
Her hand lands on my shoulder. “You got this, Daph. Put the root in his drink about a turn before the feast is due to finish. Don’t do it too early, it will arouse suspicion.”
I give her a salute. “Got it, operationCharming limp dickis a go. I won’t fail you.” I trip over the hem of my dress and smack my palm against the door. “There’s a plan B, right?”
ChapterSix
Left, right, right, down a flight of stairs, then left. Wait, was that a right or a left? Which hand do I write with? I wiggle my fingers to check. My left. But then that means my left is my right because everything is the opposite? Ugh, don’t trust the escape route to the directionally challenged. We might succeed in drugging Charming, but then what? We need someone to lead us back to his room. Wait, where is his room? Damn it. This plan has more holes than Hansel’s socks. Like the ones hedidn’tremove during our liaison. Nothing says sexy like socked feet while a guy is rutting you. Rutting is a misleading word. It suggests the event lasts longer than four quick pumps of his hips. It didn’t.
“There is a long line of successful Charmings,” the prince says, waving his hand at the portraits hanging on the wall of a chilly stone corridor lit by flaming torches. “My bloodline has become a ruling Charming fourteen times, the most out of all the bloodlines.”
“What happens to the unsuccessful Charmings?” Gwyneth wonders.
