by Hopkins, Amy
I got to Harrod's by mid-afternoon. When I arrived, he shepherded me straight out the door. We took the Bentley, this time driven by a short, furred creature. I had no idea what it was... or how it saw over the steering wheel to drive the monstrosity of a car.
We reached the Wall in a few short minutes. Of course, I thought. This was a gala - standard garb simply wouldn't do for that. Harrod wound a window down and nodded at a guard standing duty. He was waved through. Clearly, they recognised him. Normally, papers would be presented and for low-born Talents or half-bloods like myself, details recorded. I was reminded yet again of the rank Harrod held inside the city, though it was becoming less intimidating over time. It was harder to get the paperwork as your Talent parents nobility decreased... couldn't have just anyone running around now, could they?
The car slipped through the cobbled streets. I'd been inside the city before, but not for a very long time. Buildings crowded together - there had been little room for expansion of the Inner City once the mortals started building outside. Thanks to the use of magic, the city was able to grow by twisting streets into themselves and creating space in a way that would make a mortal physicist question everything he knew. Over time, Talent architects cobbled together old existing buildings with... well, more of the same. Talents in the Inner City had been here for generations. They eschewed modern technology and aesthetics, so the entire city was still comprised of materials that resembled something from the middle ages brought back to life. The result was something that, when compared with orderly Outer-London terraces and streets, looked somewhat like a dogs’ breakfast. Not that I'd say that out loud to a Talent of course.
The scenery changed as we entered what looked to be a commercial district. Small signs flapped in the breeze in a way that was just enough to grab the attention. Talented folk were old-fashioned in many ways, but in others - such as the art of marketing to a limited, saturated market - they'd had to embrace more modern techniques. Glass windows with trade goods - herbs, wands, books, food and clothing all were displayed amongst strategically placed glow lights, dancing figures, miniature fireworks and more. It was stunning. The scent of fresh baked bread and roasted meat permeated the car long before we reached a building marked as The Lords Inn. As we passed it, my stomach cramped in hunger and I ached for a plate of food with a cold beer to wash it down. After we passed, the feeling dissipated. I remembered I had already eaten and that I hate the taste of beer. Well, it seems like the high and mighty Talented aren't above cheap tricks to make a sale.
The car pulled up next to a side street and Harrod motioned me out. I stepped out, feeling self-conscious in my jeans and blouse. I expected the women within the city to cleave to the old fashion styles, but on looking around, I saw a few my own age dressed in casual street clothes. That would have been unheard of fifteen years ago, when I was last here.
We stepped through a doorway underneath a small sign that simply said 'Bee's'. Inside, full sized models of humans, Fae and other more civilised creatures spun in a dance, circling the room. The bodies were transparent, with vague features, allowing full attention to be given to the ball gowns they wore. Blues, purples and pinks seemed to be the current fashion, with the occasional daisy-yellow making an appearance. As the figures spun, the dresses changed. Most were lavish, dripping in expensive stones and crafted with magical thread that rippled, glowed or sparkled. There were a bare few dresses of a plainer nature but they were no less beautiful. These relied on the drape of fabric and perfect cut to show their craftsmanship. One look at these and I knew I was not only right out of my comfort zone, but my price range as well.
I cleared my throat and spoke to Harrod in a low voice. "Harrod, you know I'm not... I can't afford anything from here."
"Hush," he said. "I told you - this one is on me. I need you there with me, and you need to be able to blend in with the other guests. This is a necessary expense and one I'm well prepared to cover."
"You realise it's not just the dress, right? There's shoes and hosiery and um, jewellery." I wasn't about to give him the chance to offer to pay for a new set of underclothes - which, looking at plunging backs and open sides, I'd need.
"I may be a man but I'm not completely clueless about ladies’ fashions. Bee provides everything, the shoes, the hair accessories, even...." he coughed and blushed. Dammit, he was buying my underwear.
Ok then. I let the small feeling of anticipation fill me. I'd never, never owned a dress like one of these. Even in my childhood, attending court with my father was usually a sombre affair. My garb had been restricted to that suitable for a child and while pretty, didn't compare to these wonders. Despite my dislike for Talent Lords in general, I couldn't deny their flair for the beautiful.
A woman swept from a side room and I froze when I realised she was Fae. Her tall, lithe figure practically glowed with otherworldliness and her delicately folded ears twitched when she saw me.
"Emmeline! Oh my dear, I've been so hoping to meet you. You're here for a dress? Oh, please say you'll be at the gala!" A tinkling laugh erupted from her dew-drop mouth. She spun and put a hand on Harrod's arm.
He smiled at her. "Yes, Bee. Emma needs something. I hope we haven't left it too close?"
"Oh Harrod, you insult me!" She didn't sound insulted. In fact, she sounded like she wanted to lick him. I bristled a little at the way she hung off him, then berated myself for it.
Bee turned to me, one finger on her chin in a pose that was clearly meant to show her deep in seductive thought. Fae dripped sex appeal when they were happy and Bee was positively joyous. "I know exactly what you need. You don't find green objectionable? Of course you don't, it suits you perfectly. I'll bring it to you before the Gala. You'll need help getting ready of course, I doubt Harrod has the skill to get one such as yourself ready for your debut in society."
"Debut? Oh no, this is just-"
"Oh my dear, you really don't know how much society pines for one like yourself. So fresh, so focused. I promise, you will become a fixture around here. Most will welcome it."
"I somehow doubt that..."
"Oh don't worry about the traditionalists. You'll give them a run for their money, I'm sure. Now, run along and I'll see you in a couple of days."
"What about the dress? And..." I glanced over at Harrod, who was staring out a window, and lowered my voice. "How did you know my name?"
"Oh darling, you've been away far too long. I'm Fae! The dress will be just perfect, I assure you."
She ushered us out of the shop. Apparently, her skill extended to the ability to create a perfect fit without taking a single measurement. Of course it did. She was Fae.
* * *
The night of the Gala, I arrived at Harrod's early. I was hoping to get there early enough to settle my nerves with a cup of tea before Bee was due, but when Harrod showed me through to the sitting room, she was already there.
"Oh, hi Bee. I'm not late, am I?"
"Oh no dear, I wanted to come by early to meet Harrod's little brother. I've heard he's quite delicious."
"Probably not the word I'd use. Where is he?"
"Definitely not the word I'd use." Harrod seemed unsure what to think of Bee's interest in Martin. "He's out, I'm not sure where. He said he had an errand and was supposed to be back before you both arrived."
As he spoke, there was a clatter at the front door. A moment later, Martin strode in carrying flowers. He stopped when he saw us, then back pedalled, motioning with his head for Harrod to join him. Bee raised a delicate eyebrow at me and I shrugged. After a few moments wait, the two men came back into the room, each carrying a bunch of flowers. Harrod handed one to me and I looked at it quizzically.
"It's for tonight. Because you're my date. Apparently-" he shot a glower in his brother's direction, "it's a long standing tradition, though I suppose it could have been planned a little better."
I took the flowers, blushing. I held them awkwardly, unsure what to do with them as Martin approached Bee. He lo
oked like a deer caught in the headlights.
"Well well, who is this? Oh Harrod, why didn't you tell me how adorable he is?"
Harrod coughed. "Bee, he's not up for..."
"Oh he is. He’s played with our kind before, hasn't he? And what's your name, precious?"
"Martin." Came the hoarse whisper.
"Oh Martin, you and I shall be getting to know each other quite well, I think."
"Bee..." Harrod's voice had a hard edge to it now.
"Yes. Yes, I think I'd like that." Martin seemed to have gotten over his momentary stupor. Bee reached a hand out and touched his cheek. His mouth parted, and he leaned towards her. Harrod cleared his throat and she pulled away with a laugh. Martin stood for another moment, then found a seat, not taking his eyes off the stunningly beautiful Fae.
I cleared my throat. "Martin, I spoke to Melanie earlier. She said something about a date to the theatre?"
"Hmm? Oh. Not with me. She let me down very gently, but I do believe I was dumped. Positively heartbroken I am. I think I need cheering up. A chap can't just go around with a broken heart, you know." He gave Bee a sly smile. The flirting was a bit much, but at least he seemed in control of himself now. His initial reaction to Bee had worried me - I wasn't sure if his treatment in the Otherworld would have a lasting effect.
"I don't think that's a good idea. Not with this one." Harrod didn't pay any attention to the pouty look Bee threw him.
Pulling me up from my seat she said, "Off we go, my dear. These boys don't need to be around for this. In fact, I believe you mortals like to be mostly alone when undressing, am I right?"
"Yes!" I replied emphatically, face burning at the thought of stripping down in front of anyone. A brownie - I think it was Cym - appeared to take the flowers we both still held and showed us to a room.
There was a large trunk placed on the bed. She cracked it open and pulled something out, without letting me see inside. Passing me a small parcel, she gestured for me open it. Underwear. Sheer, skimpy underwear. Clearly she didn't want her handy work undone by any peeking straps or panty lines.
"Put these on, then we can get to work." It wasn't a request, so I swallowed hard and nodded.
She turned away just long enough for me to change into the light underwear. Despite its fragile appearance it fit well and held me in where it needed to. Oh, and it wasn't see-through, thank goodness. That didn't lessen the amount of blood rushing to my cheeks while I stood in front of a stranger, feeling even more naked that I actually was. Without letting me dress further, Bee sat me at the antique dresser in the room and started on my hair. I hadn't expected that - I'd simply been going to pull it into a simple up-do. Bee had other plans, extravagant ones.
Rather than use a comb or a hairbrush, she ran her fingers through my hair. As she pulled, my hair straightened out, all the usual kinks and curls falling out into smooth tresses. She twisted it up, leaving the front portion free, then set to work. She pulled out a section of hair as thick as my finger. She ran her fingers along it and I felt a light tugging at my scalp. When she reached the end a bare moment later, it was intricately braided with a tendril of fine flowers running through it. She repeated this several times across the front of my hair. Then, she moved to the back, pulling it straight and then springing it up into perfectly formed, loose curls.
Once she was done, she wove the braids through to the back, so they held my hair off my neck but still let the bulk of my curls swing down past my shoulders. She fussed at it for some time, redoing sections that didn't meet with her approval. Finally, she gave a smile of satisfaction. She placed her hands over my head and muttered a spell of holding to set it all in place.
She turned me around, then started on my face. She worked with brushes and powders and flowers and tiny sparkling things. I held my eyes closed as she worked, to save losing one of them. Her hands glided over my face with soft fingers and a sweet smelling cream. She pressed tiny button-like items on to my face, mumbling a word with each one to hold it in place.
As she worked, I tried not to squirm. I hadn't realised the degree of effort she'd intended on going to. Either she just loved to play dress up, or this gala was a really serious event. When Martin had first described the invitation, he'd made it seem like one of the typical displays of wealth and power that occurred on an almost weekly basis within the inner city. Now however, I was getting nervous. With the announcement regarding Talented-Mortal relations Harrod had mentioned, combined with Bee's extraordinary attentions, it seemed likely we were headed to a Grand Gala, an event at which all the Talent Lords and Ladies would be present.
I was sure I wouldn't be recognised. Ok, I desperately hoped not. I was sure to run into at least one Talent Lord who'd associated with my father. Though I didn't really know what his standing was, I knew he had at least a few enemies. Nothing that would flow down onto his descendants I was sure, but it could become awkward. I didn't imagine either of my sisters would attend - they rarely came to the city, instead preferring the warmer climate and relaxed society of America.
Then, as if my nerves weren't shattered enough, I remembered the dancing...
At a regular event, there were few demands and the evening had a casual feel. At a grand gala, security was tight and it was expected that everyone would participate in the planned itinerary, including the dancing. I was passable, but only just, and the thought of trying to waltz around with several powerful eyes on me made my stomach writhe with anxiety.
After what seemed an eternity, Bee finished painting my face. I opened my eyes, but before I had a chance to inspect her work she pulled me over to the bed. Opening the trunk again, she pulled out a pale, shimmering dress of green and ivory.
"Now dear, stand like this. Just move your arm a little... yes, perfect. Now hold still."
She waved, and the dress floated into the air. It slithered around my body, fitting perfectly and securing itself at the back. It was, in a word, stunning. The dress was translucent white, with tiny tendrils of green running through it. The delicacy of the design made portions of the dress throw hues of forest green. It was adorned with tiny white butterflies, trailing down from one shoulder and across the bodice. As I moved, their wings opened and closed, making the dress appear to ripple in a breeze. I turned to the mirror. My face was done in natural tones, but if I tilted my face a certain way, a light sparkle touched my skin. Rather than paint me with bright, striking colours Bee had opted for a subtle look. A nymph-like trail of flowers started on my cheekbone and ran around my eye and up past my temple. I turned my head, and caught a glimpse of tiny, fluttering wings amongst my tresses.
I spun, trying to see every angle in the tiny mirror. The girl in the mirror was beautiful, so light and poised. All my previous anxiety was gone... I realised with a start I'd been enchanted. Not just stunning, the gown had been woven with a spell that would grant me the grace I'd require to not only survive the evening, but do justice to my partner, a high-ranking Talent Lord.
Behind me, Bee was positively glowing with pride at her handiwork. She led the way downstairs.
I glided down behind her, filled with confidence. Bee met me at the bottom, placed a hand on my arm and together, we stepped up to the entrance to the sitting room. The two men looked up.
"You’re... You look... I mean, your dress..." Harrod swallowed. "It's very nice."
"Very nice? Nice? Are you completely blind? She looks incredible! Gods Harrod, nice is not what you call a woman when she comes into a room looking like that." Martin looked at me in awe. He clearly hadn't expected such a striking change. Colour rose in my cheeks, unable to be suppressed by the enchantment soothing my nerves.
"May I present... The Lady Emmeline Myrwenna Ysolde Beaumarchais."
I froze, the words like a knife plunged into my chest and twisted. All traces of the enchantment vanished.
Harrod looked up in shock. I stood, trembling and white, all my previous poise and grace gone. Bee laughed like a child who has played a prank
on a sibling and the expression on Harrod's face. Then, she looked back and saw me.
Everything was still.
My head spun and realised I'd stopped breathing. Forcing myself to gasp some air in, I stumbled over to a seat. Bee rushed to my side, clasping my arm. "You didn't tell them?" she murmured.
"I don't go by that name anymore. I'd appreciate if you don't use it again please." My voice was hoarse, betraying emotion I'd rather keep well hidden.
"Emma?" Harrod's voice was unsure.
"We need to go," I said. "The last thing I need is to draw attention by being late."
"Emma, why didn't you say something?"
"Please, not now."
"Later then. I'll go and call for the car."
After he left, Bee looked at me with serious eyes. "You can't hide it. They'll all find out eventually."
Eyes burning with unshed tears, I turned away. I strode out of the room and waited for Harrod by the front door. He came to stand next to me after a moment and before long, the Bentley was purring on the sidewalk. He helped me inside, my arms full of dress so that I wouldn't sully it on the ground. I turned my head as we took off, looking out the window and away from his eyes.
"Emma, I'm sorry. I had no idea. I wouldn't have made you come tonight if I'd known who you are."
"Why does that make a difference to you?"
"Everyone there would know your father’s name. You might be faced with questions, I don't want to put you through that after... well, you know."
"They'll want to know how he died and why I didn't. If I knew the man who killed him, or why he did it. Yes, I bloody well know Harrod. It doesn't matter though, if Bee hadn't told you no one would have any idea who I am. It's old news, people won't remember if they're not reminded of it."
"Em... Everybody knew Lucius. It's his work that got us where we are tonight, the fight that he started changed the entire community, forever."
I frowned. "What fight? My father was a businessman."
I looked over at Harrod. He was looking at me with concern and wonder. "Emma, your father was one of the key leaders in opening the doors of our world to others. The Fae, the mortals... He's the reason Abnett got elected, it all started with him. If not for Lucius, we wouldn't be nearly as close as we are."
