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Grabbing a towel, I patted my face dry as I lifted my chin and began to turn. I stopped, something in the mirror snagging my attention. My hand lowered to the rim of the vanity as I leaned in closer. My eyes . . . they didn’t look right.
They weremostlybrown.
“What the hell?” I leaned in closer to the mirror. The inner part closest to the pupil was a . . . shade of pale blue, and that wasn’t normal at all.
Slamming my eyes shut, I felt my breathing pick up. It had to be the light in the bathing chamber or . . . my mind playing tricks on me. There was no other logical reason for my eyes to suddenly change color. I had to be seeing things.
I just needed to open them to prove that.
My heart fluttered like a caged bird. “Stop being ridiculous,” I scolded myself. “Your eyes didn’t change colors.”
A knock on the chamber doors startled me. It had to be Hymel, and knowing him, he would be impatient as usual, but my heart still pounded. Forcing a deep breath into my lungs, I opened my eyes and leaned in close to the mirror.
My eyes . . . they were indeed brown. Just plain old brown.
The knock came again, this time louder. Tossing the towel into the basin, I hurried to the chamber doors.
“The Baron Huntington has requested your presence,” Hymel announced.
My stomach toppled so fast that it was a wonder I didn’t vomit all over Hymel’s polished boots.
I was expecting this, and still, anxiety surged through me as I joined Hymel in the hall.
Hymel looked at me as we walked, his stare challenging. “You going to tell my cousin about earlier?”
“Are you worried?” I countered, instead of ignoring him as I normally would.
The man laughed, but it sounded forced. “No.”
I rolled my eyes.
Hymel was silent until we neared Maven’s chambers. “I wouldn’t say anything about it if I were you,” he said, staring straight ahead. “You cause me problems— ”
“You’ll cause me problems?” I finished for him. Gods, Hymel was a walking cliché.
“No.” Stopping at Maven’s door, he faced me. “I’ll cause your beloved Grady to have very significant issues.”
My head whipped toward him as my heart lurched.
Hymel smirked, pushing open the rounded wooden door. “Don’t take too long.”
Anger and fear crashed together as I forced myself to walk away from Hymel. I entered the darkened chamber, chest filling with so much hatred I was barely aware of Maven ushering me toward the tub. As her gnarled fingers undid the buttons of my gown, I willed my heart to calm. Hymel had some level of authority in the manor, but there was no way Claude would allow Hymel to banish Grady from the manor or something like that. Not as long as Claude was satisfied with what I could do for him.
That was what I reminded myself of as I bathed and then was dried off. Maven’s hunched form shuffled along the rack of clothing, pulling free a gown of diaphanous black.
After I donned a piece of fabric that could barely be considered an undergarment, Maven dressed me in the gauzy material. A series of delicate lacy straps crisscrossed loosely at my chest, and I was sure my breasts would make an impromptu appearance if I bent in the wrong direction. I glanced down at the skirt of the gown. There were slits on both sides, all the way to my upper thigh. The gown could barely be called that, but it likely cost far too much coin.
Brush in hand, Maven urged me to sit on the stool. She began to work the tangles out of my hair, jerking my head back. Once she was satisfied with the results, the paint came next. Red for the lips. Dark kohl for the eyes. Pink rouge for the cheeks. Her hands smelled of soap, the kind used to launder clothing. She then limped toward the deep shelves lining the wall, retrieving a headpiece from a chest.
Strings of small, oval rubies nearly as long as my hair hung from a circlet. The jewels glimmered in the flickering candlelight. Maven placed the headpiece upon the crown of my head. It was far lighter than the diamond one.
After straightening the strings of rubies in my hair, Maven stepped away, turning her back. I knew what that meant. She was done, and I was dismissed to return to Hymel.
But I was slow to move as I stood, my gaze flicking from the curved line of Maven’s back to the standing mirror. I walked to it, half afraid to get closer and to see my eyes, but I did.
They were still brown.
What I’d seen in my bathing chamber had just been my imagination.
