by Morgan Hawke
I then turned to my prince with a glint in my eye. “Strip now!”
He blinked, but rose from his chair and got undressed, draping his clothes on the lounge behind him.
Keeping my gaze firmly trained above the waist, I practically shoved him into the bathroom, then into the bubble-filled tub. I tossed a sponge into the water. “Scrub everything!” I turned at the bathroom door and pointed at him. “Use the chamomile shampoo for your hair...” It made extra highlights. “And don’t forget the pot of conditioner afterwards!” That kept his hair from frizzing from the curling irons. I bolted out the door and into the bedroom.
Once I had his velvet coat, waistcoat and knee-breeches brushed, his shirt and neck cloth pressed, and his lace collar and cuffs dry-starched, I spread everything out on his bed. Nodding at my accomplishments, I hunted through his valise for his good folding razor and the pot of bay rum soap-powder.
Dragging the footstool behind me, I strode into the bathroom to find my prince with his back to me, completely nude with his arms upraised, scrubbing a white towel over his damp hair. Droplets of water trickled down the muscles of his back to his rather shapely butt, round, firm and dimpled at the top and the sides...
Alberic turned around to smile from under his towel. “See something you like?”
I was so annoyed at myself for staring and actually enjoying the view, my temper flared hot. At my side, I flicked open the straight razor and I swear, my voice dropped to a lower register. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
My prince’s eyes widened. He dropped the towel from his hair to cover his crotch. “Um, nothing!”
I smiled, showing all of my teeth. “Good.” I kicked the footstool toward him and brandished the razor. “Sit.”
* * * * * *
It took a good four hours to get my prince shaved, curled, styled, dressed, buttoned, and bowed for his ball, but the results were worth it.
His hair was a cascade of gleaming golden curls that tumbled unbound to the middle of his back. The rich cream silk shirt and the neck cloth tied at his throat were trimmed in gold embroidered lace, matching the gold embroidered leaves and vines that practically encrusted his forest green velvet waistcoat as well as the lapels, cuffs, and collar of his frock coat. A black satin sash also embroidered in gold, was bow-tied at his back, matching the spit-polished gleaming black knee boots with their gold tassels and spurs.
I sat him on the stool before the tiny vanity to give him the finishing touches. There were jet drops for his pierced ears, a smidgeon of rouge on his lips, then I brushed a whisper of black kohl on his lashes to show exactly how long they truly were.
I stood back. “Finished.”
Alberic smiled at my reflection in the glass. “Will I do?”
In the glass, I looked more than a bit frazzled, with curling tendrils of my black hair falling loose from its bow and my shirt wrinkled beyond recognition, but he looked magnificent. I nodded and smiled. “You will definitely break hearts tonight.”
He looked down to tuck a lace-trimmed handkerchief into the wide cuff of his sleeve. “Well, hurry up and go take your bath.”
I blinked at him. “Huh?”
Alberic scowled at me. “Julian, my personal valet cannot walk into a grand ball looking like that!”
“What...” My mouth fell open, then snapped closed. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t feel like seeing him in all his magnificent glory dancing and flirting with those equally glorious princesses under the crystal chandeliers. Merely being one more servant standing by the wall had never bothered me before, but for some reason, at that moment, it did. I looked away, folded my arms across my chest, and lifted my chin. Luckily, I had an excellent excuse. “Bath or not, my clothes are all at my campsite, and what I have isn’t suitable.”
Alberic lips curled into a sadistic smile. “That midnight blue coat, waistcoat, and breeches should not only be suitable, but should fit you perfectly. In fact, I know they will.”
I frowned. I had noticed that outfit when I’d unpacked it and hung it in the hotel wardrobe, but I hadn’t thought twice about it. My prince had new clothes delivered almost daily. “You had it made...for me?”
Alberic lifted one golden brow. “Does anyone else provide you with clothes?”
He had a point. If it weren’t for him, I’d be running around in gleanings from the castle attics. It was rare that he had something that extravagant made for me, but he did on occasion. “But I’ll make you late!”
Alberic rose from the stool. “Only fashionably late.” He pulled his riding crop from the back of his sash.
I blinked. When did he put that there?
My prince pointed the crop toward the bathroom and lifted his chin, his eyes narrowing to icy emerald slits. “Bath. Now.” He swatted his gloved palm with his crop. It made a sharp thwack. The threat was obvious.
I swallowed and went to the bathroom. My prince never made a threat he wouldn’t carry out, and I had no interest in riding all the way to the castle with a sore butt.
Rather than fill the whole tub, I merely ran the water and scrubbed my hair, then myself. Since it was his idea for me to bathe, I didn’t feel the least bit guilty using his bar of sandalwood soap or his lavender shampoo. I came back out with a towel around my dripping hair, my breasts rebound in the cotton strapping, and wearing my plain white cotton under-shorts.
He stared down at my bare legs and curled his lip. He swept his crop out and pointed it at my legs. “Shave those, and your armpits.”
I stiffened. “What? Only girls shaved like that...” Oh wait, he did too. “I meant, why? No one will see it.”
My price folded his arms across his chest and lifted his chin. “I could make you shave your pubic hair too.”
I bolted back into the bathroom to shave. It’s not easy to shave one’s legs or other intimate parts with a straight razor, but I’d had plenty of practice on myself back when I was learning to shave my prince. I just didn’t like all the itching from when it grew back. Almost thirty minutes later, I left the bathroom annoyed, but nick-free.
My prince sat on the bed. Beside him was the midnight blue outfit along with a cream silk shirt, a matching neck cloth trimmed in snowy white lace to go with it, and a pair of cream silk stockings. He twirled a scrap of cream silk and lace on his finger. He turned to me and his bottom lip protruded in a pout. “Those under-shorts do not go with this outfit.”
I set my hands on my hips. “They’re all I have.”
He tossed the scrap of silk he’d been twirling at me. “Wear those.”
I caught the scrap and discovered that they were a very tiny pair of silk shorts trimmed in very expensive lace. I stared at them wide-eyed. Very...feminine.
My prince smiled. “You’d better hurry and get dressed.”
“First things first.” I tossed the shorts back at him, grabbed the shirt and neck cloth from the bed and moved them to the desk where I’d set up a damp towel for ironing his silks. The flat iron was still hot by the coals, so I was able to press the shirt and neck cloth with speed. I then brushed out the velvet on the breeches, waistcoat, and frockcoat.
I admit I rushed both the ironing and the brushing a bit, but then, I wasn’t a prince, merely the servant of one. I did however linger over the embroidery on the midnight blue coat’s cuffs, collar, and hem. Although the silk thread was a bright cobalt blue rather than gold, the leaf pattern was identical to the embroidery on my prince’s coat. There would be no mistaking to whom I belonged.
However, before I could dress, I had to do something about my still-wet hair. I walked over to the small vanity and pulled off the towel wrapped around my head. My damp hair tumbled in a semi-snarled mess over my shoulders to the middle of my back. I picked up the wide brush to begin the task of taming it.
My prince stepped up behind me and tugged the brush from my hand. “It will be faster if I do it.” He swept the brush through my hair.
The tingle of magic spilled down my back, and I could feel hot ai
r swirling around the brush. With each sweep, the brush dried my hair into sleek, shiny waves. My eyes widened. “That’s a neat trick.”
He slid his fingers into my hair, creating even more tingles, though not from magic. “I can dry it, but I can’t make it curl.” He twirled a tendril around his finger and frowned slightly. “Such a pity...”
I swallowed, somewhat dazed over the strange intimacy of having him brush my hair. “Drying is good enough for me.”
Alberic set one hand on my bare shoulders and smiled. “All right, let’s get you dressed, starting with these...” He held up the scrap of silk meant to be under-shorts.
I snatched them from his hand and got up from the stool to stomp over to the bed where my clothes were laid out. “Pain in my ass...”
My prince snickered. “I sincerely doubt you’re ready for that just yet.”
I turned to face him. “What?”
He shook his head and smiled. “Never mind.” He waved his hand toward me. “Hurry up and change.”
Despite the fact that he’d already seen me naked, I didn’t want to drop my shorts right there in front of him. I looked over at the bathroom door. Maybe...?
My prince took two quick long strides to stand between me and the bathroom. “Don’t even think about it.”
I ground my teeth. Bastard! Having no other choice, I turned my back, dropped my cotton shorts, and slid into the silk. They were surprisingly comfortable, though they did sit a little high on my butt.
My prince whistled softly. “Those suit you very well indeed.”
I grabbed the silk stockings and sat down on the bed to roll them on. “Gee, thanks.”
My prince grinned. “I’m having a dozen more made.”
“Don’t go out of your way on my account!” I grabbed the knee-breeches and pulled them on.
My prince chuckled. “Oh, I’m not. I’ve always preferred silk over cotton.”
I stood up and turned my back to my prince to button the nine-button flap in the front. “Yes, I know, but you’re not wearing them.”
His voice dropped to a whisper. “No, but I will be the one removing them.”
I turned to face him. “What?”
Alberic walked over to the end of the bed. “That binding you wear over your breasts...” He waved his hand in my general direction. “It needs to be replaced with something a bit more...elegant.”
I rolled my eyes and slid my shirt into my waistcoat, then both into my coat. I lifted the whole thing and shrugged into all three together. Doing it that way kept the lace from getting crushed. “If you have anyone make something like that, they’ll know that I’m female.” I whisked through the shirt’s lacings and bow-tied the cuffs.
He shrugged. “Only if they know who will be wearing it.”
I turned my back to tuck my shirt into my pants. “Kind of hard to avoid when I go in for a fitting.”
He snorted. “I’m sure my tailors can make something if I give them the proper measurements.”
I buttoned my waistcoat from bottom to top with haste. “Anything will be more comfortable than cotton strapping.” I reached for the neck cloth.
My prince plucked the silk from my fingers and stepped close to loop it around my shirt collar. “You wouldn’t mind if I had something made?” My prince began tying my neck cloth into an elegant bow under my chin.
I scooped my hair out from under the silk. “Nope. Whatever they make will probably be a whole lot easier and faster to put on.”
His voice dropped to a whisper. “Easier to take off, too.”
I stiffened. “What?”
He turned away and waved a hand. “Nothing for you to be concerned with.”
“Fine, whatever...” I walked back over to the lounge to grab my knife harness and unbuckled it at the shoulders to get it on under the coat.
He frowned. “You’re going armed?”
I rolled my eyes at him. “As your valet, it is my duty to protect you.”
Alberic lifted a black sash that matched his, and walked over to me. “I’m not helpless.” He looped it over the coat and around my waist, then turned me around to make a bow in the back. “I can handle myself in a duel of swords or pistols.”
“I have no intention of interfering in any of your duels.” I reached under my coat to check the set of my knives. “It’s the brigands hired by the sore losers that concern me.” I looked over my shoulder at him. “You did take your poison antidote, right?”
Alberic curled his lip. “Of course. I’m not an idiot.” He walked over to the table by the lounges and picked up a very extravagant black velvet tricorn hat festooned with iridescent green and black feathers. “Your hat is over here on the table along with a pair of gloves.” He headed out the door. “Don’t dawdle, peon!”
I stomped into my riding boots with all due haste. I still didn’t want to go, but what choice did I have? He was my prince, and I was his servant. I rushed over to the table to grab a smaller black felt tricorn hat with three blue-black feathers and the pair of black leather gloves beside it, then bolted out the door after him.
~ Eleven ~
Leaning on the polished golden oak banister of the balcony overlooking the grand gala, I thumbed a long tendril of my black hair behind my ear and smiled sourly at the scene of fairytale perfection one story below me.
Flecks of rainbow-tinted light from the massive leaded-crystal chandelier suspended from the domed ceiling high overhead sparkled on the slender two-story mirrors that lined the curved white marble walls. Only a few long strides from the walls, gold-flecked marble columns supported the balcony that encircled the entire ballroom. At the head of the room, a full orchestra played before tall windows draped with sheer gold silk.
The dance floor was done in extravagant black and golden oak parquet designed to look like a compass rose. However, it was near impossible to see under the swirl of brilliantly bedecked lords and ladies that danced upon it.
In the very center of the crush of dancers, my prince smiled while promenading with the Rose Red princess. The deep green velvet of his coat set off her emerald and ruby drop necklace, and brought the deep garnet roses on her cream and gold gown to life. Emeralds and diamonds glittered among the curls of her titian red hair.
From the frowns and scowls on the bystanders, a goodly number of the other princes, and quite a few of the lesser nobles, were less than pleased. My prince had already danced with Rose Red twice and Snow White three times. No doubt, my prince would be involved in more than a few duels over the next few days.
A deep masculine voice whispered just behind me. “They live in a far and distant world from the rest of us, yes?”
I nodded absently then frowned. Who...? I turned around.
Directly behind me, Death’s coachman looked past my shoulder at the throng below. He was dressed in his full coachman’s coat, cape, and feathered tricorn hat. Blue eldritch light glittered among the folds of his cape and long coat.
I blinked. “Master Corwin?”
He turned to me and smiled. “Well met, Juliann—”
I moved swiftly, pressing my gloved fingers to his lips and whispering a tad hoarsely, “Julian, if you please.” I glanced at the other valets and servants that occupied the balcony.
He rolled his eyes and nodded.
I removed my fingers with a relieved sigh.
Corwin moved to stand next to me and set his elbows on the railing. “This masquerade of yours...”
I clenched my jaw and spoke through my teeth. “Is necessary.”
He narrowed his golden eyes. “It’s annoying. I don’t see how anyone could mistake you for...” He cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “Anything but what you are.”
I shrugged and smiled sourly. “People see what they want to see.”
Corwin nodded at the crowd below. “And I see a prince who may have need of a valet, but has no understanding of your true nature.”
I lifted my brow and poked out my bottom lip. “I happen to be an
excellent valet.”
He frowned and leaned close to whisper. “What about what you truly are?”
I looked away and set my elbows on the railing and stared over the crowd and out the distant window at the night sky. “I’ve been at the prince’s side since I was a child. We had the same tutors, and dueling masters. I’m a fair shot with a pistol and a better swordsman. I can read, write, and cipher mathematics and maps...” I shook my head. “I simply don’t know how to be anything else.”
Corwin leaned against my shoulder and spoke softly. “Do you regret it? Do you regret not getting the chance to be...yourself?”
I frowned slightly. Did I regret it? Honestly, I wasn’t sure. Every day of my life had been so filled with anticipating my prince’s next requirements, or avoiding his wrath, there hadn’t been any time to contemplate regrets. I shrugged. “I can’t regret what I’ve never known.”
Master Corwin set his hand over mine and took a step back, pulling me away from the railing. “Then allow me to give you a taste of what you could be.” He pressed his other hand over our joined hands. Blue-white foxfire blazed around him in a corona. It slid down his arms and spilled over onto me.
It happened so fast, I didn’t have time to blink. For an entire breath, I was blinded by the brightness. Once my sight returned, the first thing I noticed was that my arm looked wrong. Instead of seeing my cuffed coat sleeve, a long white satin glove covered my arm and rose up above my elbows. Then I noticed the rest.
I was in a floor-length gown of shimmering rainbow-cream silk with full belled skirts. Though simple in design, not a single flounce or ruffle anywhere, the whole thing shimmered with iridescent pearls and leaded crystal brilliants. “What is this?”
