“Please don’t make me wear that awful thing.” Blai’s designed dress hung from the back of the door. It was just like the sketch. Terrible. Plain. Itchy.
Chantal grimaced. “Think of it as a costume. Like in all the greatest operas…Julian the Valiant.Elizabeta the Brave!”
“Operas don’t make it south.”
“Well.” Chantal patted the chair in front of the vanity. “We’ll go the moment you’re crowned Souverain.”
Elara studied her burnt fingertips.
Her plans hadn’t changed. She had no interest in becoming a leader. Even if she did win, what the hell would she do with all that power? Running a Société for an entire city was different than running a bakery.
“What’s wrong?” Chantal settled on the bed.
“This isn’t how I thought it would go,” Elara replied.
“What did you imagine?”
“I don’t know… I just didn’t expect so many rules. To be so… trapped.”
“If I’m honest, I hate it too.” She got up and patted the chair again. “Come. Let’s get ready.”
“Why do you listen to Nikolas?” Elara asked, settling in. “He’s an ass.”
“Ah, so that’s what your foul mood is about. Fair.” Chantal twisted Elara’s curls into smooth ringlets. “Nothing excuses his behavior, but he’s had a hard life. It’s not easy being Lafontaine’s—”
Elara glanced up. Chantal tried to recover, but it was too late.
She breathed out and said, “Being Lafontaine’s direct apprentice isn’t easy.”
“He… what?”
Chantal nodded. “Like every other Patron, he wants to prove himself to his Souverain. He thinks this is the best way.”
“Is it?”
This, she didn’t answer. She resumed pinning Elara’s hair and brushing her skin with a light layer of makeup. “Nik has a lot of pain, but it’s no excuse to make you feel anything less than what you are.”
“Which is?”
“Powerful.”
Elara flushed. “Blai and Nik are in it for power, but what about you? What do you get out of this?”
“I was the first ballerina in the Maran family. Did you know that?” Elara shook her head, and Chantal continued, “A long line of business moguls in Arts Nécessaire, and I broke it the day I entered Arts Spectacle. I had to work twice as hard to prove myself. Extra rehearsals, staying late, arriving early, private lessons, anything to get ahead. It was worth it when I became prima ballerina.”
She smiled as she dusted Elara’s cheeks with rouge.
“I became a role model, a doll they could parade around for publicity and Ilovedit. It made me push myself, to be better than the rest. I even conditioned myself for a new style of leap the instructors had designed specifically for me.”
It wasn’t difficult to imagine Chantal’s lithe body flying through the air, weaving magied spells across her captive audience.
“Did you learn it?” Elara asked.
“Of course! It was a spectacular opening night of a spectacular run. I was the best in the field, Anespérer’s darling, and the pride and joy of my family. Until the next opera season began.” Her voice darkened.
“One trick wasn’t enough,” Elara answered.
“The higher you climb, the narrower the ladder rungs become. They wanted more and more, again and again… until I broke. Just as they intended.”
