Page 72 of House of Roots and Ruin
He was standing in the middle of the hallway now, watchingme with an unreadable expression.
I closed my door with a quick swish, turning the locking mechanism slowly, so he wouldn’t hear the click.
The morning dawned in shades of scarlet and crimson. The sky looked like a bolt of bloody satin unfurled and every bit of my island upbringing cringed, feeling the storm that was bound to set in later.
From the parlor terrace, I watched the flurry of activity in the garden as footmen hung strings of lanterns and set out series of candles across railings and parapets.
Poor Dauphine.
So much effort, doomed to be washed away.
There was a rustling noise from inside the room behind me, and I turned.
A young woman, blond with dark eyes and only a few years older than myself, was in the middle of the sitting room, creeping toward the mannequin form Dauphine had sent up earlier. My gown had arrived late yesterday, and she’d already had it steamed and fluffed to perfection.
It was an enormous confection of lavender, blush, and champagne tulle. The skirt was gathered and as puffed as a meringue, but remarkably lightweight, as though a cloud had floated downto earth, deciding to adorn me. The bodice was wickedly sheer, cleverly embroidered with flowers in beads and metallic thread to cover my breasts. Echoes of the same flowers were embroidered into every other layer of the skirt, so that when I walked, there was an impression of blossoms in the misty swell, but they’d disappear before you were certain of what your eyes saw.
She reached out to touch the silk tulle with unchecked hunger, but then seemed to think better of it and her hand was left raised, poised and frozen midair.
She was the first maid I’d seen at Chauntilalie. It had been strange to notice the overwhelming presence of so many footmenand valets but given Gerard’s extramarital proclivities, it gave me a deep sense of amusement, imagining Dauphine’s clever workaround.
Which made this girl—so young and quite pretty—an unlikely presence.
I froze, glancing to the candlestick I’d used last night, its taper now nothing more than a melted stump.
Was this maid truly here or did she belong to another Chauntilalie household, one long gone and forgotten?
Her hair was plaited into a simple, timeless braid but her dress—a smock of blue linen—was peculiar in style and very poorly fitted. The waist seemed to be cut higher in the front than at the back and seemed far too large on her.
“Good morning,” I called out, curious to see if the would-be ghost would acknowledge me.
The young woman startled, as if she’d been unaware of my presence on the terrace. She dipped her head in greeting to cover her surprise.
“Good morning.”
So shecouldsee me.
“Did…did Dauphine send you up to help me dress?” I watched her carefully, waiting for the moment when she’d briefly flicker, giving away her state.
“It looks quite complicated,” she observed, circling the mannequin to understand the gown’s intricacies without answering my question.
A row of eighteen buttons hung as if by magic across the delicate netting of the back, like couture vertebrae. One wrong snag by me and the entire bodice would be ruined.
“I suppose so,” I murmured, keeping a steady eye upon her. I was certain there would be some otherworldly tell about her, but she moved easily about the room, a solid shape, occupying exactly the right amount of space.
Doubt tickled my throat.
“You won’t be able to wear a corset.”
I shook my head, feeling a blush rise over my chest. “Is that…is that a common practice in Bloem? To leave oneself…so exposed?”
She shrugged, eyes fixed on the long, sheer sleeves. “There’s nothing exactly common about fashion, is there? The moment something becomes everyday, it’s already stale and forgotten for the next new thing.”
I took a step closer to her. “But will people…Do you think they’ll think me…too loose?” Feigning concern, I reached out to touch her shoulder, nearly laughing in relief as I felt the tangible heft of her body.
I’d been quick to jump to conclusions.
This maid was as real as I was.
