by Melody Rose
Oddly, once I entered his room, he made a gesture as though he wished to take my nonexistent coat. I suppose it was difficult to beat the high-class manners out of him, even though they were a bunch of pretty diversions from his lack of filter and condescending comments. I laughed with wild abandon and overlooked how much this unrestrained reaction would cause my barely concealed breasts to bounce. He looked both mesmerized and confused.
“Do you usually hang up the towels of your guests?” I teased and almost pretended to peel my towel off of me before I whacked his arm to signal I was only kidding.
“A matter of habit,” he admitted and did not take my bait. He glanced at the spot where I’d hit him, but he did not retaliate as I had previously been accustomed to.
“Perhaps you were not inclined to continue wearing that. I wouldn’t consider it a proper outfit, even when engaged in informal evening banter. I might have another option if you would be interested?” An almost gentle tone of hospitality had trickled into his question.
“Well… I don’t really think your clothes would fit me,” I reasoned. “What did you have in mind?”
“I believe that Lydia had left one of her nightgowns behind when she last visited me,” he stated this as though it were a perfectly natural offer. “You may take it if you like. I have very little use for it.”
I was shocked by this indecent proposal, and it seemed like it had too many layers to unpack than I was comfortable with. For instance, was this a reference to Lydia’s “special tutoring sessions,” and how recent was one of those? Would she kill me if she heard of his suggestion? How disposable does he find women if he’s willing to just treat a pile of their intimate sleepwear as a lost-and-found that’s fair game for anyone? Also, how pink would it be?
“As weird as that sounds, and as much as I think that Lydia would literally tear my tongue out if she saw me in it,” I began, “I would actually appreciate that. It seems too late for her to run into me at this hour, and I think this towel is bound to slip if I don’t give it my undivided attention.”
After hearing my concern about the flimsy towel, Theo seemed to regret telling me about an alternative to it. He didn’t put up a real fight, though, and instead disappeared momentarily to his bedroom, as before we were simply standing in his extravagant entrance hall.
While I waited, I took in the sight of polished mahogany bookcases packed with leather-bound tomes, crystals, candles, and strange baubles that must have been antiques in his world. His curtains were rich and sumptuous, and the enticing sound of flames crackled in his expansive fireplace, over which hung a tapestry featuring a design of a phoenix resplendent with deep crimson and bright amber feathers.
Exotic and plush rugs with impeccable craftsmanship and dazzling burgundy and gold threadwork spread out over his floors. This room was way closer to my ideal with its comforting warmth and sophistication, whereas my own was a bit too frosted with stereotypical sugary-sweet femininity. I couldn’t believe that he had all these advantages in life and still refused to be satisfied.
How did he possibly have the energy to hover over me and scold me for every so-called offense when he had all this?
When he arrived, the “nightgown” that he had referred to hung from two of his fingers by its delicate straps. I would have called it more of a chemise since it had black lace trim around its neckline and hem. More to the point, it was dangerously short. I had to admire Lydia’s taste in this regard, though, because it didn’t have the cotton-candy prom gown look of her robe. Instead, it was an alluring wine red with a subtle cord designed to cinch the wispy slip and announce every curve of the wearer. It was too devastatingly beautiful to have any other purpose than to be ripped off. It forced me to wonder how close he and Lydia were. I blushed and had to ask a certain question before I accepted it.
“Is it, ah, clean? And when was it last worn?” I asked with suspicion. “What was it… for? What happened between the two of you?”
Theo arched an eyebrow and pursed his lips with composed patience. I actually enjoyed how this expression highlighted his chiseled jaw and sharp cheekbones. His face was disarmingly easy to admire when he wasn’t yelling his head off or wrinkling his forehead in disgust.
“Rest assured, I performed no less than three cleansing spells on it before handing it over. I’m not a barbarian,” Theo said to defend his sense of courtesy. “As for the rest, I honestly cannot recall when it was last worn, and as for your last question, that covers quite a lot of territory.” Theo got increasingly cagey as he continued, his telltale irritation starting to crop up again. “I’m not quite sure how to answer it. Surely those inquiries weren’t the original topics you wished to discuss, so why don’t you proceed with those?”
I plucked the insanely lightweight chemise from his fingers and did an awkward little shimmy to slide it up under my towel. There was a lot more squirming required once I got to my chest because Lydia and I clearly weren’t the same cup size. Theo started to look uncomfortable again, and perhaps he thought this dressing technique was a travesty for such an elegant and enticing piece. Once the garment was fully secure and I smoothed the straps over my shoulders, I let the towel drop to the floor. I kicked it to the side, maybe as a way to distract myself from how strange this encounter was. I worried that he would lecture me on folding the towel or at least how not to ruin the beauty of the rugs as it lay there in a rumpled heap. However, he paid rapt attention to study me and my new, extremely uncharacteristic outfit.
“Yeah, look,” I began. “I’m not sure how it works here, but in my world, if a girl goes missing, it’s a big deal. News stories, internet articles, gossip. Basically, everyone gets up in arms about what happened…”
He must have thought I was being melodramatic because he gave a loud and short laugh, but instead of talking over me, he allowed me to continue.
“So, to avoid putting everyone in crisis mode, we’re going to need to come up with a way to explain my absence,” I clarified. “I’m not even completely sure I’ll stay here, but I’ll give it the college try, which is going to take more than just one day. I thought of a story that’s pretty perfect for putting people off our trail.”
“Please.” Theo waved his hand to encourage me to share what was on my mind. “Enlighten me.”
“Okay, don’t be too much of a dick about it… I know I’m no Hollywood stunner… but I thought we could put on a front that I’m your sugar baby. That you fell for my… pie… and wanted to pull me out of a rough patch.” I uneasily slid my hand up my forearm and prepared myself for a cut-throat laundry list of all my flaws and failings.
“A sugar baby? What’s that? A type of changeling that one of your ‘sugar plum fairies’ leaves behind? A newly trained cooking maid trained by our kitchen sprites?” Theo tried to make sense of my suggestion, but as he did, he gave me a disapproving frown. “Even though those don’t sound like the most heavily guarded secrets of the worlds beyond your own, it is very ill-advised to reveal even a pinprick of our ways to lamb’s bloods.”
“No, it’s not any of that…” I started to become very frustrated that he wasn’t able to catch my drift since that forced me to spell out the concept down to each embarrassing and explicit detail. “A sugar baby is a girl who… is the companion of a rich man. It’s a well-known arrangement where I come from. Everyone would totally understand why I skipped town for that opportunity.”
I left out any of the dirt some people tossed around when they talked about these types of relationships. I thought it would be best to pretend as though it was all an honor, a real status symbol.
A sinister and excited smile crept on Theo’s full lips. He crossed his arms in smug satisfaction and leaned back to examine me. The stormy cloud of brooding arrogance had been replaced with a brighter, sunshiny pride. Basically, he still looked incredibly full of himself, but at least this time he wasn’t dead set on terrorizing me. I’d never seen him in such good spirits before. I guessed the recipe to cheer him up was to
claim I was in distress and that I needed his big, bad wallet to rescue me. Or whatever mages used to stash their money.
“Well, I suppose if I squint hard enough, I could see why you’re worth my time and money,” he responded at last. When he saw my jaw drop at the scathing insult, Theo clenched my shoulders and shook me vigorously to try to dissolve my miffed mood. He also happened to enjoy the added perk of causing my chest to bob from the agitation.
“Relax!” he exclaimed. “You’re certainly no horrendous harpy, and I think I would have fun playing along with your little game. As I’m the adept of this world and you are the expert of your own, why don’t you tell me what this strategy requires?”
“Well, I need to look like I’m having a good time,” I stated matter-of-factly.
“Both of us do. If we don’t have any photographic evidence of that, people might think that you’re twisting my arm and that I could’ve been kidnapped.” Surely the most loaded student at Bouclier would have a high-end camera? A cell phone?
“Photo… graphic,” Theo broke the phrase into its ancient Greek roots, which wasn’t going to get us anywhere. “Drawings with light? I suppose that I can commission the Van Brandt painter to incorporate some illuminating spells for some added luster if you wish…”
“That’s going to take too long!” I protested and threw my arms up. “Can’t you just use a spell that would make a realistic image of us? I also need it to be in a file format so I can email it to the right people. I was picturing a nice blue ocean behind us because those are everywhere, but I guess we could just pose in front of your fireplace like a couple of love birds. That’s not super specific, and it does really sell the story that you aren’t hurting for money.”
“What are you going on about, Joan?” he questioned with bewildered exacerbation. “You aren’t making much sense. I don’t understand the lamb’s blood customs that you refer to, and you don’t have respect for our traditions. When we have our likenesses taken, we don’t rush headlong into it. Further, we don’t use quickening spells. There’s a sacred art to painting that requires time.”
“And as I’m telling you, we don’t have that!” I huffed and beat a fist against my open palm to emphasize my point. “I don’t want to cause a stir over where I lived. If you don’t have the right equipment, isn’t there anyone who does? I need a laptop and either a camera or a cellphone. I’ve always been totally broke, so I don’t have any of that. They’re all… hard… metal objects with… screens. Sound familiar at all?”
“No, but I believe I know who can help,” he revealed. I was actually impressed that he was cooperating so well. “There’s a tedious civvie-lover here that spends nearly all her free time studying your world. She’s been known to have all manner of bizarre contraptions holed away in her dormitory. I’ll summon her for assistance.”
Theo pressed his fingers together and muttered what sounded like a short name. He also didn’t seem to have to concentrate very hard to call over this student. Maybe she didn’t have many people to talk to, and her heart was calling out to be recognized or asked for. I didn’t even know the girl, but I already got the sense that she was aching for company.
When she suddenly popped into the room, a series of high-pitched beeps blossomed into earshot and filled Theo’s entrance hall on account of its spectacular acoustics. A girl with dirty blonde hair pulled into pigtails was fiddling with what looked to be a pastel green Tamagotchi. She peered around with curiosity and then grinned wholesomely at the two of us. Despite my risque nightwear, she acted as though we were all part of a strictly PG co-ed slumber party.
“Hey there! You caught me at a good time!” She didn’t seem at all peeved for the lack of notice. “Who’ve you got there? I’ve never seen her before. Is this a study session? Or did you wanna get a look at the TV,” she giggled as though we were a couple of normies that needed an extra explanation, “the television that I smuggled into Bouclier? For the uninitiated, it’s a large viewing cube that channels a ton of scripted plays ranging from civvie dramas to funny but sometimes accurate ideas of what this world is like!”
Theo pressed his finger to his temple. Apparently, he wasn’t thrilled to hear the girl ramble on about her high-tech finds and her infatuation with all that was human. He must have been tolerating her only on my behalf.
“Hello, Rebecca.” His voice sounded strained as though he struggled not to spit out her name with supreme annoyance. “This is Joan, and my father instructed me to bring her from the uninitiated world to Bouclier. He thinks that she might have some latent talents worth exploring. In order to ensure that can happen, she needs to put those who know her at ease. I’m not even going to try to pronounce all the lamb’s blood nonsense she brought up, so I’ll let Joan speak for herself.”
Before I could open my mouth, Rebecca rushed over to me and started treating me like I was a hot new toy at an electronics store with a medley of exciting features. She pinched my cheeks, cranked my arm one way and the other, waved her hand in front of my eyes, and poked her fingers square between my chest just like Everfour had done.
“A real, live civvie!” She squealed with delight, right in my face. I gave a clumsy smile to humor her. “I can kinda see what Abelard’s talking about. I’ve spied on many a civvie, and she’s not as cold inside as the rest of them. Some real flickers of will in there. What’s your favorite TV show?!”
“I… um…” I was really caught off guard because this wasn’t the type of question I thought I’d receive here.
“Enough!” Theo snapped. “Can we please stick to the task at hand?”
Rebecca shook her head to maintain focus and took a step back from me. “Right, right! Joan, was it? What is it you need from me? I’d be happy to help. I’ve sneaked around lots of civvie stores to attune myself with their wares, and I’m pretty sure I could scrounge up something that would be useful for you.”
“Well,” I began, “I need to be able to take a couple of pictures of us, and then I need to send some emails so that I can reassure everyone I’m okay. I could get both of those done with a cellphone, but there are other ways around it, like using both a camera and a laptop.”
“Nope,” she cut in and nodded sagely as though she were a wise woman sparing me from a grave mistake. “A cellphone’s not going to work here. It puts Lemuria at risk of being discovered with tracking technology, and it’s too difficult to enable on castle grounds, anyway.”
Rebecca continued, “To really pull this off, we should first take a picture of the two of you, and then you can borrow my laptop to send off the photos to whoever you like. I’ve been able to evoke a mock wi-fi connection, and my whole network is encrypted, so you’ll be secure to spin a web of stories without being found out.”
She tapped a finger on her cheek. “What kind of props do you want, though?” Amazingly, she was able to be deep in thought about our shared conspiracy while still rambling her head off. “I mean, any good love story needs a sentimental setting and some spot-on staging. You don’t want this to be a hatchet job.” Rebecca then pulled out an amethyst-toned wand to ready herself for my requests.
“Well, uh, maybe later we can look into backdrops if I ever feel the need to send more evidence, but right now,” I gestured toward the fireplace as I spoke, “I’m thinking of just taking a couple’s shot here. I’m thinking… champagne in a bucket of ice… strawberries in a posh crystal glass…”
“Uh huh, uh huh.” Rebecca nodded excitedly and attentively like a waitress taking my order. As I listed out my ideas, she brandished her wand with the ease of an artist spinning a stylus on a tablet and brought life to my suggestions. As I watched the romantic treats materialize in front of the mantelpiece, I began to get bold. I liked the way this girl operated.
“... a really nicely tailored, silk green evening dress, you know, painfully sexy like one of those Bond girls… a gray Tom Ford suit for Theo as my mystery man because those old-fashioned threads won’t fit in with the rest of the look…
and… ah… a mountain of Louis Vuitton suitcases to tell everyone that we’ve got magical places to go to.” I really immersed myself in this wish fulfillment. “That last part is basically true.”
This girl really did her homework, all of her spells were perfectly on point. She must have known human magazines like the back of her hand and binged watched all the need-to-know movie and television franchises. Maybe I’d finally found someone that I could open up to. Yavo and Irk were great, but their interests were probably completely alien from my own, and well, Aurelius just barked. I was also happy to know that she knew her way around a metaphor and didn’t actually erect a literal mountain of designer baggage in Theo’s room.
I closed my eyes and luxuriated in the sensation of the exquisite, probably thousands-worth-of-dollars dress kissing my skin with costly silk. Once I did that, Rebecca decided to take some creative liberty. Before I even saw myself, I knew she was responsible for making me look dramatically different because I could feel layers of various cosmetics appear on my skin. It wasn’t the chemical burn I had expected, which I had always thought was the price to pay for looking so damn beautiful. How could I have known? All I’d ever played around with was a tube of generic brand mascara.
“Here, here! Take a look!” With a flick of her wrist, Rebecca pulled out a hand mirror.
It looked like any ordinary one from a drug store, not the sterling silver antique I had found in my bathroom, but as I looked into it, I was absolutely shocked. I looked like a real femme fatale, with striking smoky eyeliner, darkened and artistically arched eyebrows, lush eyelash extensions, chillingly pretty matte lipstick, and sophisticated curls that looked like I frequented salons worthy of celebrities.
