13. Scarlett

CHAPTER 13

SCARLETT

"I'll take that, my lady," one of the older handmaidens who followed me into my room says, startling me.

I stare at her as she tugs the outfit from my fingers. She instructs me to step onto a platform against a large mirror while a younger handmaiden closes the door.

There are too many reflective surfaces in the room. I try to look outside, but shadows flicker through the glass panes and disappear the moment I blink my eyes.

"We'll get you dressed in no time," the older one assures me, likely mistaking my anxious expression for the fear of being late to the fête.

Rather, I have a fear of what insanity lingers in the back of my mind.

It must be a side effect of the blood contract, I decide.

Turning away from the windows, I obey more out of instinct than understanding.

There's no privacy screen in this room, I realize with a sinking sense of dread.

I feel strangely vulnerable as I take the step and stare at myself in a mirror bound by gilded designs. I'm not sure what to do with my hands, so I tuck them over one another on top of my stomach out of a habit born of ingrained training. "If you're going to undress me in the open, can we at least close the curtains?" I ask. My gaze goes up to the long velvet drapes that are attached to a curved rail.

The older one blinks up at me, then the younger one laughs. A look of horror crosses the older handmaiden's face as she shushes her.

"Julie! I'll have your hands raw on dish duty if you cannot behave in a Lady's presence," she threatens, making me frown.

"I don't know what the other Ladies are like in this house, Miss…" I trail off, then wave my fingers for her to fill in the blank.

"Beatrix," she says as she straightens her spine.

"Miss Beatrix," I continue. "You needn't hold your tongue around me. In fact, I do hope we can all become friends with occasions that contain more such laughter. I presume we'll be spending a significant amount of time together."

And not to mention, my only friends at my own house were the staff.

No amount of finery and etiquette training would ever make me feel like I fit in among high-class Elites. My memory from my village is broken and faded, but my body seems to remember things I cannot. There's a stress response I can't explain around other Ladies.

It probably has a lot to do with the masks they wear. Not literal masks, but ones where they hide who they really are in an effort to blend in—or stand out.

Beatrix has one, but it's for very different reasons. Underneath her professional and efficient mask, her eyes are kind and her soul is weighed down by troubles I can't name. I'm sure there are many that an aged handmaiden might have on her hands.

Julie, though, has a flimsy mask that flies back into place. She bows her head, and her hair hangs around her like a curtain.

Stepping off my stupid pedestal, I tuck my finger under her chin and force her to look at me.

Her brown eyes are as wide as saucers.

She's young, full of life, and hopeful. I'm glad to see a young lady working for the Rinholds having hope in her heart. That's something I can work with.

"Can you tell me what was funny, Julie?" I ask. Her mask threatens to slam back into place as she goes tense. "You're not in trouble," I assure her. "I'll admit, you probably know a lot more about how things work in this house than I do, Julie." I use her name again and with purpose. I want her to understand that she's a person with a name. She is no different from me, other than the fact that I was adopted by a Duke and she was not.

Julie's brown eyes flick to Beatrix, and the older woman must have given her the go-ahead because she turns back to me with a tentative smile.

No, not tentative.

Hopeful.

"The tonics dress you, my lady. It would be improper to be naked." She indicates a tray with various bottles on it. "Would you like to see them?"

I eye the tray, then roll back my shoulders. "Do you mean to say that I won't ever undress? Even for bathing?"

Julie's cheeks blush. "No, my lady. Not unless you enjoy baths for relaxation, that is. Tonics will keep you clean otherwise."

I'm not sure how to feel about that. On the one hand, I never have to feel like someone is watching me undress again.

On the other… would I want to eliminate the sensation entirely?

The shadows flicker in the mirror through my peripheral vision, mocking my dark desires. My nightmares are so sensual because I wear the most prominent mask of all.

I'm a village girl pretending to be a Lady.

"I'll take that into consideration," I say as I take the pedestal again. "All right, why don't you explain to me how it works?" I ask, holding out my arms.

Beatrix approaches and matches my gaze in the mirror. Her smile is genuine, and the way her mask dissolves around her puts me at ease. "You're a gentle soul, Lady Scarlett. Those are rare among the Elite families these days, so I promise you I will do everything I can to explain how it all works."

I have a feeling she's not just talking about tonics.

Beatrix slips the cloth over my head. There must be magic in the fabric, because what I'm wearing completely melts away, and the new threads hug every curve of my body with perfect precision.

The corset is still tight, but not suffocating enough that I feel like I can't breathe. It wraps around my waist and my chest, sufficiently lifting my bosom better than any of my dresses have ever achieved.

I take the time to admire my reflection as my two new handmaidens quietly chatter. They spread ointments through my hair and seem to have accepted my decree that they should be themselves, so that gives me a moment to study them.

Beatrix is old enough to be my mother, and Julie is a cheerful little doll who does everything Beatrix tells her. I would have thought them mother and daughter had they not looked so different from one another.

Beatrix has dark hair wrapped up in a skull-tight bun, while Julie has wild blonde hair tucked back with pins around her face.

Beatrix rummages through a jewelry box as she directs her conversation to me. "Duchess Rinhold told us to make sure you were fashionably late for the fête, but that's because she doesn't want you to make a grand entrance," she informs me with a click of her tongue. "Can't have you stealing her husband's thunder with the selections he's made this year." She frowns at various pairs of earrings while she takes turns holding each pair to my head. "But Earl Rinhold told us to have you ready promptly." She gives me a wink. "I'll just pretend I didn't hear the Duchess. She refuses to give me any anti-aging elixirs, so my hearing could be going bad, hmm?"

"Does the Duchess not want me here?" I ask honestly.

If Beatrix is surprised by my frankness, she doesn't show it. "Of course she does. She's the one who pushed so hard for a blood contract in the first place. But your ultimate role here seems to be up for debate. I suspect the role Duchess Rinhold imagines for you is quite different from what the young master has planned."

"Young master?" I ask.

I glance at Julie, who adds, "Earl Rinhold, she means."

Beatrix sighs when she seems satisfied about her choice of earrings. She selected a dangling pair of rubies and silver chains that complements my complexion. As she loops them into place, she gives out instructions without looking up. "Julie, can you grab the flourish tonics, please? The red and black lace and jewels set. That'll go with this."

Julie hurries and collects the indicated potions. She takes a dropper and covers me with it, hitting my shoulder, my hairline, and my arms.

Magic seeps into my skin and bright red locks, and gems appear out of thin air as they loop and twine through various parts of my outfit.

I might have lived in the Magic Sector for the past two years, but I have not actually partaken in the luxuries offered in this segment of the Elite City. As I touch the jewels in my perfectly styled hair, I hardly recognize the woman who stares back at me.

The tonics have taken away shadows I hadn't even realized were there. My eyes seem brighter and boast a new shade of silver. My cheeks, once pale and lackluster, now look as if I've pinched rosy hues back into them. Even my lips are plump and a shade of red that matches the rubies in my hair.

I don't look like Lady Nightingale anymore. The drab Lady of a dying house is gone and now replaced with someone new.

Lady Rinhold, I say in my mind as I test the name.

The mark above my navel spears me with cold pain, making me wince. I haven't been given a chance to see my skin to confirm anything is actually there, but I certainly feel it.

Just because something feels real doesn't mean it is.

"My lady?" Julie shyly asks. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I say, giving her a forced smile. "Just tired."

The young girl rummages through what looks to be a medicinal box, then presents a bottle with a crystal top and smiles at me. "For energy," she offers.

My eyes widen when I recognize the tonic. It's not an anti-aging elixir, but it's nearly as expensive.

"No, thank you," I say.

She shrugs as if she hadn't just offered me something I could never afford and puts it back into the box.

I am fairly certain she just presented me with a dream inhibitor. For some reason, the idea of not needing sleep for the next four-and-twenty hours doesn't appeal to me.

And neither does the prospect of avoiding whatever might be lurking in my dreams.

Slut.

Whore.

My brother's words rush over me, and I straighten and stare at myself in the mirror as I push them out.

My figment had said I wasn't any of those things.

He had also said I was his, which I'm not.

I can't be.

Can I? Can I not have a little fun in a pretend world of dreams that isn't real?

Maybe I'm foolish. Maybe I just want something that belongs to no one else and only to me.

My hand falls to the place above my navel as it throbs in memory.

"What views do Earl Rinhold and Duchess Rinhold differ on when it comes to me, if I may ask?" Turning to Beatrix, I give her an encouraging smile.

She is holding a variety of trays and stops eyeing them to look up at me. Her brow crinkles, seeming to mess up her dark makeup that slashes onyx lines over her wilted eyelids. It rubs me the wrong way that Duchess Rinhold won't even give a few drops of anti-aging elixirs to her staff. "I watched the young master grow up from a mere babe. I've been here for a long time, and I'm a good judge of character, Lady Scarlett, so I will tell you this." She leans in as she lowers her voice. "Duchess Rinhold has never loved the Earl like she loves her daughter."

It's my turn to crinkle my brow. "Earl Rinhold has a sister?"

Julie and Beatrix share a look. If I was supposed to know that, I didn't.

I bite my lip. "She wants her son to produce an heir, but she doesn't want me to outshine her daughter," I surmise. "Because, technically, I could surpass the role of Duchess, leaving it to Earl Rinhold's sister, should I be deemed unfit for the role."

Beatrix gives me a wry smile. "Something like that, my lady. And given Lady Liliana's exposure to anti-aging elixirs during the Duchess's unexpected pregnancy…"

My eyes widen. "Edward's sister is barren?"

Beatrix places a finger to her lips. "We don't know for sure. Her mother has always used the elixirs, even when pregnant, we suspect. Which would have an impact on the child growing in her womb." She sighs. "We certainly don't gossip about it. But…" She lowers her hand and gives me a grave nod. "I know what kind of tonics a fertility test requires. I had administered them to Lady Liliana during a routine doctor visit when she came of age."

Irritation prickles my skin. Duchess Rinhold wants it all. She requires her son to produce an heir for the family because her daughter cannot. But she wants this Lady Liliana to inherit the Duchess role all the same.

So where does that leave me?

I'm to be nothing more than a breeder…

"Which fragrance would you like, my lady?" Julie asks while presenting a tray of labeled bottles.

The dismal thoughts fade away as I peruse the selections. The important thing for me to remember is that I have thirty days to secure my place. I never planned to become a Duchess. In my own family, I was preparing to take over a smaller settlement with the population created by offsetting inhabitants from Nightingale Village.

With all the extra selections, though, there won't be much of a population to offset anyway.

So where does that leave me now?

If I did return home, it would be to ruin.

But if I stayed… I refused to play a role determined for me.

I'm Scarlett Nightingale and I make my own fate.

Nightmares won't control me… and Duchess Rinhold certainly won't, either.

A thrill runs through me that I'm not accustomed to. I rarely play Elite games, but now that I've been thrust into the biggest one of my life, I'm determined to win .

For some reason, I feel that my selection of fragrance will determine the tone for tonight, so I judge each one carefully. I'm drawn to the bottle titled Peach Elegance in a scrawling script on a glittery label. "That one," I say with a pointed finger, then smile when she sprays it along my collarbone and a frosting of peach-colored glitter shimmers on my skin and pushed-up breasts.

"Would you like me to fetch the Earl?" Julie asks, her eyes bright with wonder as she gazes up at me. I can tell I'm everything she hopes to be.

That only makes me want to succeed so I don't let young girls like Julie down.

"No," I decide aloud as I rest my hand above my navel. "I'll make my entrance alone."