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Today’s inspirational quote feels like it was chosen just for me.
No great artist ever sees things as they really are.
If he did, he would cease to be an artist.—Oscar Wilde
After an hour of French class, I’m just about to head over to the Spring Room for break, when I receive a message on my slab.
Keane:An escort is outside. You are scheduled to Trip
I stare at the screen, unsure if that flicker in my belly is born of excitement or nerves, though after my discussion with Arthur, when he revealed his true expectations for me, I’m guessing it’s the latter.
The feeling grows even more pronounced when I realize this will probably be my first solo trip. A final-final exam of sorts. Though, all things considered, I was pretty much solo on my last Trip, too.
Still, being dropped in a foreign place and time, with only myself to rely on, fills me with dread.
I sling my tote over my shoulder and head into the hall to find Roxane standing outside the door of the control center.
Her smile is more efficient than friendly, and as I follow her lead, I can’t help but wonder if she really did lie about going to film school like Song told me. And if she lied about that, what else is she capable of lying about?
When she hands me off to Hair and Wardrobe, I ask where and when I’ll be Tripping. But in that clipped way she has, she just tells me to relax and assures me I’ll be briefed soon enough.
I greet Charlotte like an old friend and settle in for a long session of primping, where a team of people buff my nails, powder my face, rouge my lips and cheeks, twist my hair into a complicated updo with curled bits hanging down past my shoulders, and spritz my décolletage with the same perfume I wore last time.
“No wonder women had so little power,” I say. “They spent half their lives getting dressed and undressed. And look at all the help they required.” I sneak a glance at Charlotte, but she remains focused on her task.
When she’s finished, Charlotte shows me my gown, and I’m disappointed to find it’s an exact duplicate of the same blue dress I wore last time. I was hoping to at least mix it up, add a little variety.
“Isn’t there another dress I can wear?”
Charlotte shakes her head and cinches the corset so tightly, l gasp.
When she adds the pannier, I audibly groan. They’re designed to add an extra foot or two to the width of my hips and they’re incredibly awkward to maneuver in.
“We used to take up so much space, but we had no authority,” I say. “Now, it’s like the more authority we gain, the more we’re required to shrink. Why do we agree to this nonsense?”
Charlotte busies her hands with adjusting the side hoops. “Consider yourself lucky,” she says. “Ours were made of whalebone or cane. Yours is crafted of a much lighter steel developed by Arthur. Besides, they can come in much handier than you might think.” She smooths a hand down the right side and shoots me a look I can’t read.
I guess I’m too focused on her use of the wordoursto even begin to guess what additional uses a pannier might offer. With her nimble hands and soft, lineless skin, she looks to be somewhere in her twenties, thirty at the most. “No way you’re old enough to have ever worn one of these monsters yourself,” I say.
Her cheeks flush, and she’s quick to turn away as she reaches for the gown. “I’m referring to my ancestors.” Her face dips into an uncharacteristic frown, then she proceeds to remind me where the hidden pockets are located. The shoes are also duplicates of the ones I wore before, and when I look at her, she beats me to it. “Next time custom,” she says.
“Promise?”
At first, she appears startled, but when she catches my grin, she’s quick to return it.
After she transfers my talisman from the gold chain to the black velvet ribbon she’s fastened at my neck, she steers me toward the mirror, where the reflection that greets me is pretty much identical to the one last time I Tripped.
When I head out to the launchpad, Roxane hands me an envelope containing a square of paper that states:
Your presence is requested!
When: 25-26 February 1745
Where: Palace of Versailles: The Hall of Mirrors
What: The Yew Ball
Why: Celebrating the marriage of Dauphin Louis to Maria Teresa Rafaela of Spain
After my visit to the Vault, I’m not surprised Arthur’s returning me to Versailles.
But why on earth would he send me back to the exact same party?
