Page 18 of The Illuminated
I didn’t quite get the joke, but it made Santana snort, and I was just thankful for this shift in energy and company.
She wagged an eyebrow. “Or should I say, Your Highness?”
My smile faded, and Santana shot Amaya a warning look on my behalf.
“Oh, please don’t,” I said, trying to sound as light-hearted as I could manage.
Amaya sighed. “Sorry. Let’s get you dressed and all made up.”
I hesitated. “You guys don’t actually have to do any of that,” I said quickly. “You can just keep me company, you know.”
“But we’re already here. We don’t mind helping you,” Amaya said.
I wanted to apologize, for the sins of this castle—sins that I now felt wrapped up in by virtue of profiting off of their lavish comforts. It didn’t matter that I had to be here, and that we were working toward grand freedom and restoration. Amaya and Santana and the rest of the servantswere slaves, stolen from their parents and land to serve those responsible for their destruction. But I didn’t know how to say sorry in a way that meant anything. The words dried up on my lips like ash, dissolving into nothing more than sand in the wind.
“We know, Áine,” Amaya repeated. She gave a sad smile. “We know.”
Santana bustled about, holding a hand over the porridge and saying a small chant for heat. She hummed as if to tune us out, disappearing into my bedroom and returning with the gown Lucius had picked.
“You have a plan, right? We’re getting closer every day. We can all feel it,” Amaya said as Santana took to dressing me.
I just nodded, oddly fine with my partial nudity. Santana just continued to hum as she laced the back of the dress, the huge skirt dropping all around me. The tune of her song was strangely familiar.
“We found Taryn,” Amaya said when I sat at the vanity. I watched her brush out my long copper hair in the mirror, her delicate fingers wrapping the strands loosely around a curler. “The poor thing. To have spent this many years feeling so lonely, raised by such cruel parents who never wanted her to know her truth.”
“Found her?”
“Callum was out running errands and saw her crying in the gardens. They instantly saw in each other that they were connected, from the same coven,” Santana elaborated as she brushed rose pink blush across my cheeks.
“I’m glad you found her. I was planning on introducing her after she’d had more time to process everything. I thought you all might be able to offer her what she doesn’t seem able to accept from me,” I sighed. I missed my bold, unapologetic, carefree friend. I especially missed the way she made me feel less alone in the company of the other elites.
Amaya clutched my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “She’s coming around. She just didn’t understand it all at first. It’s hard to realize everything you once knew about your world was wrong. Or to accept a calling you never agreed to, from people you’ve never met and never will.”
“Don’t I know it,” I snorted, maybe a little too bitterly.
Amaya and Santana met my eyes tenderly, each continuing their work with gentle hands. I watched in reserved amazement as they expertly accentuated my bright green eyes, the golden undertones of my skin, and the gentle curve of my cheekbones and jaw. My eyes glittered gold, with a dark smoke at its crease that blended out into more light shimmers. They applied a subtle highlight above the blush, a light contour to the hollows of my cheeks, and a deep red lipstick the color of blood. My hair had been fashioned into loose, bouncy curls. A few of the strands framed my face, while the rest were pulled into a twist at the back of my head.
“I don’t even know what to say except thank you,” I said. “I don’t think I’ve ever looked this good in my life.” I couldn’t help but smile, studying their handiwork in awe before remembering the reality that I was basically being dressed up like a doll for Lucius.
Ew.
“Of course,” Santana chirped. “Anything else we can do?”
“No, no. You’ve done plenty,” I said, a bit awkwardly. I would never feel comfortable accepting the products of their exploited labor.
“Hopefully the King likes what we’ve done enough to appoint us your personal lady’s maids,” Amaya said with a shrug.
I cringed, and she shook her head at me.
“Girl, listen. You have no idea how horrible other assignments are for us. Especially if they involve doting on the lords and ladies. They’re disgusting and cruel,” she spat. “This service is the best any of us could ask for.”
I sighed, rising to face them. Their eyes widened at the full sight of me. “None of it will go on for much longer. I promise you.”
Neither of them spoke, still dumbfounded. I turned toward the full-length mirror to see what they saw, and a chill ran up my spine. I barely recognized myself underneath this carefully constructed image of… well, royalty. I looked straight out of a dark fairy tale, like the evil queen who sends assassins to kill the maiden princess.
“God,” I muttered. The dress had a whole presence and personality of its own, its dark black and gold fabric shimmering as it moved under the light from the chandelier above.
“Yeah,” was all Amaya said, her eyes still wide. She scratched her head. “It’s certainly a look, that’s for sure. You really could pass for his—”
