Chapter 24

In a flurry, Comfort helped me wipe off the ruined gunky cosmetic job I had attempted on myself and change my outfit. Comfort pulled my corset strings so tightly I could barely breathe until finally, my figure was deemed perfect. She then began the anxious affair of applying my cosmetics. Turning my head to and fro, she gently would brush on one powder than another, allowing some to set for a few minutes before adding an additional layer. My eyelashes were plumped and darkened, my lips bathed in red. I still insisted on my wig being styled to cover most of the left side of my face, and to drape a veil from the center of my forehead to over my left shoulder. I knew it looked foolish, but I would rather people raise an eyebrow at my style choices than my face.

At long last, Comfort deemed me perfect and shooed me out of the door, ignoring the glass still shattered everywhere. For the first time in a year, I longed for a mirror, to see if Comfort made me bearable to look at, but there was no time to find the hand mirror that I had tucked away in a drawer somewhere.

A crowd of people milled around on the ground floor of the manor. Most had dainty glasses they were sipping from, some were swaying to the music provided by the orchestra.

I noticed immediately that, just like Comfort had claimed, the people attending our country party were very different from the royalty and noblemen I was used to at the castle. Girls wore garishly colored gowns with an inordinate amount of embellishments, large bows, frills and mountains of lace, their hats also bedecked with feathers, flowers, and lace. It hurt my eyes to just look at them.

It seemed that most people were clean, just completely unaware of the concept of color coordinating clothes. I smiled politely and curtsied to everyone I met, and was immensely relieved to see that no one was staring at me. With all the visual distractions around us, I would have been impressed if anyone could find me at all in this crowd.

Comfort and I wound our way through the halls until we found Mother. She was standing next to a man I assumed was Algernon. For having such an unfortunate name, he was handsome enough. Much thinner than Father, slightly shorter as well. His mustache was well-trimmed and he had a good-natured face.

“Is this your other daughter, Lenora dear?” he asked when he spotted us. If he was surprised by my face, he didn’t show it. Comfort and I dropped quick curtsies.

“Yes, she is,” Mother said, smiling. Any memory of my outburst seemed forgotten. “You haven’t met Truly yet.”

Algernon inclined his head, and I dropped another curtsy. “Your mother has told me so many wonderful things about you. Youngest translator for the king, yes?”

“Not for the king,” I corrected. “It was mainly foreign dignitaries.”

“And how many languages do you speak?” he asked.

“Five, sir,” I replied, uncomfortably aware of the people beginning to take notice of our conversation. I heard someone say ‘Five! She speaks five languages!’ in an awed voice, and the message was passed throughout the crowd.

“Remarkable!” Algernon praised. “And what other hobbies do you enjoy?”

“Reading, archery, horseback riding, and attending musical performances,” I answered in a rush, eager to be done talking so I could seclude myself in a forgotten corner and fade into the background.

“What an educated young lady you are,” Algernon said. “Just like your mother and older sister, I see.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I hope you can help my own daughter develop some of those skills as well. Have you met my Cynthia yet? She has been so eager to meet you.”

So he didn’t know yet. I was glad my experience as a diplomat had helped me develop the ability to gloss over any sticky situations. “Yes, I met her briefly this afternoon. Unfortunately, we didn’t have much time together, but I look forward to getting to know her better.”

By now, a queue had formed of people waiting to congratulate Mother and her husband to be. I moved on, eager for someone else to take my place. All I wanted to do was stand in a dim corner and be overlooked.

My faint glimmer of hope was dashed, though. An older man approached me. “Pardon me, but did I hear correctly that you speak several languages?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And can you read and write in those languages as well?”

“Yes sir,” I repeated.

“Would it be too much trouble for you to assist me in translating a business proposal?” he asked, pulling from his satchel a lengthy scroll of parchment.

“Not at all! I would be happy to help,” I said eagerly. This was a perfect excuse to be removed from the festivities, and I secretly hoped that this older gentleman’s eyes were fading so he wouldn’t notice my face. I sat at a small table, and he sat opposite of me.

I spent the rest of the evening engrossed in meticulously copying his trade proposal into three different languages to be sent out to neighboring countries. My timing was good. I had finished just as Algernon was chivvying stragglers toward the door.

“My deepest thanks,” the elderly gentleman said, and pressed a silver coin into my hand. I hadn’t expected to be paid for my assistance, and tried to return the coin, but he insisted I had earned it, and left.