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“And were you near a gate?”
“A gate?” I kept my voice and thoughts very quiet.
“A place where, perhaps, in your world odd things occur?”
I nodded.
“That’s it then, Lady Gwynn. You spelled yourself here. There’s no two ways about it.”
“So I could spell myself back?”
“A powerful sorceress such as yourself could do most anything she set her mind to, I would think.” A thump sounded behind me and Darling padded over to rub against my legs. I stroked his arched back while he purred.
“He’s taken to you, that one,” Lady Blackbird chirped out in her normal bright tone, briskly finishing the braids. Confidences were over, I supposed.
Darling left my hand to butt against her legs. “Of course, we are all his servants where ear scratching is involved,” she added, leaning over to perform the service. “Now! Let’s get you dressed.”
With the help of the sparrow twins, Blackbird wrapped me in layers of silk- and linen-ish fabrics, cut into wide strips so they encircled me like a sari or a mummy’s wrappings. Strips went between my legs, around my thighs, my belly and waist, secured over my shoulders, then wrapped tightly around my rib cage to bring my breasts together. Good thing they’d offered me the chamber pot behind the screen first, because this underwear was not the do-it-yourself kind.
The chamber pot did the reverse of the water buckets. It magically emptied. Blackbird warned me to be careful not to drop anything in there I liked—several ladies had carelessly lost jewelry that way. When I asked her where the stuff went, couldn’t Rogue conjure it back again, she blinked at me and supposed the things went to the same place the water came from.
Silly question.
When they finished, I felt as corseted and stiff as the first Queen Elizabeth looked in her portraits, but I did have impressive cleavage. Now I knew where all the ladies got their figures. And why they’d found my own underwear so titillating. My poor little panties comprised about two percent of the fabric I had on now.
“This isn’t for all the time, dear—just formal events, and Lord Rogue wanted you formal tonight.”
Blackbird dropped a sheer robe over my head. It draped over me from neck to wrist to toe. She added several more, all light, all in various shades of beige, until I wore seven robes in a straight column of cloth. Mina offered me a pair of ballet-type flats, beige, of course.
I glimpsed myself in the mirror. I looked like a Carmelite Novice. The braided hair was too severe for my face, emphasizing my square jaw. The cinched waist and impressive cleavage were completely obscured. The off-whites did nothing to complement my pale complexion and dishwater hair.
“I am a symphony in neutral,” I declared.
“Thank you!” Blackbird beamed.
I tried to think of a way to tell her that wasn’t a compliment without hurting her feelings.
“Usually I prefer brighter colors,” I tendered.
“Oh no!” Blackbird looked horrified. Turning me away from the mirror, she took my hands. “No colors, no affiliations tonight. You must be neutral, nonthreatening—I thought you knew that. Didn’t Lord Rogue explain?”
“When?” I scoffed. I jerked my hands out of hers and paced the room. “After he lambasted me for thinking too loud, but before he held the knife to my throat? I have fifty-three million questions and no answers! I notice he’s been markedly absent since I regained my voice, in fact.”
“And who would blame me, really?” Rogue drawled from the doorway.
I whirled around to see him lounging against the doorframe, keen blue gaze sparkling. He was resplendent in black. A velvety outfit that outlined his lean body so that he appeared as sleek as I was puffy. The blade of a knife to my undercooked bratwurst. I contemplated several come-backs, but he waggled a long finger at me.
“Tsk, tsk, temper, darling.”
He shrugged away from the doorway as the two tub-lads reappeared and, heads down, tromped back in, seized the tub and took it away without a word. I was sorry to see it go. Mina and Bhrta hustled after them, padding on silent feet. Darling slipped out, also. Ah, well.
Lady Blackbird swept Rogue a deep curtsey. “Best of the evening to you, sir.”
He kissed her hand and she blushed charmingly. “Thank you for your labors, Lady Blackbird. Once again you have exceeded my expectations.” He glanced at me. “She could hardly be any less attractive.”
“Gosh, thanks.”
“Best of luck tonight, Lady Gwynn.” She patted my cheek and tucked a wisp of hair behind my ear, whispering, “You’ll do just fine, dear—just do whatever Lord Rogue tells you to do.”
