Chapter 3

Party

The next few days passed slowly. I had my tasks memorized – almost – and I understood what most of the new technology did. Living in the mansion was bliss, despite the chores. In fact, looking after the place made things better; it felt like I was earning my stay.

But I missed my family. It felt unfair that I was leaving them all behind; after all they had done for me. I had checked every window in the house, but none had a clear view to the village below. Other than missing the important people in my life, I was lonely. Not only had Mr. Lochet not told me what Marie had meant, he had not spoken to me at all. And he hadn't had any guests. For the first time in four days, he struck up a conversation. While I was ironing pillow cases, unfortunately, something that I found I could not do without burning my hands.

"Imshi," He said, appearing in the doorway suddenly. He took up his usual stance, casually leaning against the doorframe. I gasped, looking up quickly. And burnt my little finger as the hot metal coasted too close. Eyes watering, I set the iron down, and fought the urge to yelp in pain. "It may be short notice, but just to let you know, I'm having guests visit tonight. A formal event. You don't have to join, but I'd prefer if you would… many of the guests, I hope for you to become familiar with, as you learn to do more work for me. They are business guests, and I'm sure they would appreciate meeting you sooner, rather than later." He said coolly.

"You're giving me a choice?" I asked rudely, before I could stop myself.

He blinked, raising his eyebrows. "Yes. You will meet them, either way, soon enough." Though I still felt uncomfortable around him, never mind guests, I was so eager to have some social interaction, I accepted. Plus, I didn't want to do anything wrong, not so early in my work.

"Certainly." I smiled, picking up the pillowcase, and neatly folding it, I hoped. My finger was still throbbing, and looked red and swollen.

"Excellent." He grinned slightly, showing teeth. "You can use one of the dresses in the wardrobe in your room, or in the room next to yours." Stunned, I nodded, looking away and wondering, once again, why was all this happening to me? He laughed suddenly, and I glanced back up to see he was laughing at me. "You needn't act so surprised. You've wanted to be allowed to wear those dresses ever since you laid eyes on them, and now you can. And we can't have you living and working here for so long, then missing out parties, or at least, looking nice for parties. Come on! I've got a reputation to uphold," He smiled. Nervously, I smiled back. He had obviously warmed to me considerably. Perhaps because I hadn't made off with any of his possessions. "Finish these off, then go and get ready. The guests should arrive in two hours, though a few of them have been known to appear… early."

I didn't see him after that, not until that night. Until then, I raced around the house, finishing all the work I still needed to do. After that, finally free of my tasks, I raced up to my room. Almost ceremoniously, I pulled open the wardrobe doors, and gazed wondrously at the outfits. The beautiful purple dress would have to be my first choice. It shone, compared to the rest. Eager, yet careful, I lifted it out, and rested the hanger on the door. Once again, its beauty blew me away. Its fabric whispered together, commanding me to wear it. Delicately, I slipped it on; once again amazed by its magnificence. This time, I got to fully appreciate wearing it, and not feel guilty. But I still didn't seem worthy of wearing it. My hair was like a waterfall of night down my back, but something was still missing. Sheepishly, I crept out of the room to the cupboard next door, worried I'd be seen early.

Shoes. Shoes and make up. My eyes instantly found the two components. Make up was on the dresser at the back, as before, and shoes littered the ground below clothing. I fell upon a pain immediately. They matched the dress. Dark purple silk, with a small black flower embroidered at the side. They had tall, sharp heels, and no strap to keep my feet in. Anxiously, I slipped my newly relaxed and clean foot into one of the pair. It fit perfectly, but the height they added was dizzying. It was like I was standing on my tiptoes. I placed the other one on, and lifted the dress slightly, so not to step on it. And I stepped forward shakily. Wobbling, I decided it wouldn't be too hard, as long as I didn't stand or walk for too long. And then I saw another pair of shoes. That also seemed to match the dress. They were the opposites of the purple shoes – black, with a purple flower detail. Other than that, they were identical. Purple or black, black or purple? Indecisiveness danced through my mind. I slipped one of the indigo shoes off, staggering sideways as I balanced on one heeled foot, and put on one of the black shoes. Personally, I preferred the black shoes with the purple flower. They didn't overdo it, it was simpler. But, I knew, as well as anyone, that my sense of fashion was terribly lacking. Before I wavered, and asked for a second opinion – God forbid – I kicked off the other purple shoe, and replaced it with the second black shoe. For practice, I decided to walk around as I got ready in them.

Make up was a horrific challenge. I had never applied it before, especially never to my own face. Mother had put some of her lacking supply on me, the day I went into work with her. She told me people wanted to see a pretty, cheerful face behind the counter. And that's what they saw. After half an hour of toil and anger as she put it on me that morning, I felt attractive, and was happy. That said, I had no idea how she had done it. I remembered getting jabbed in the eye, and I remembered her going through the names of the different items. I picked up the lipstick I had seen before, and once again twisted it. The colours wouldn't work, I knew that much. I tried to find other little cylinders that matched, and twisted each one, looking for a suitable colour. Finally, I settled on a pink shade that would do no more than give my lips a little shimmer. I applied it sparingly, and looked in the mirror, pleased with my short work. Then, I continued searching for something I recognized.

A bristled brush, covered in an inky black liquid triggered a memory. Mascara. I lifted it to my eyelashes, and attempted to apply it. Blink, and I pulled it away before it made contact. And again. Involuntarily, I kept moving away from it. It took several tries before I touched eyelash, and then, I jabbed my eye, too. Squeaking, and blinking furiously, the stinging passed. I decided to give mascara, and everything else involving my eyes a miss. Blush was simple; so long as I didn't wear too much. Which is exactly what happened. I scrubbed my cheeks furiously, trying to blend in a 'soft pink' shade, which showed up like candyfloss on my pale cheeks.

Eventually, I decided I'd had enough. By enough, I mean I was close to tossing the make up and dresser out the window. To calm my annoyed mood, I tested each of the perfumes resting on the dresser table. They were all lovely scents, and eventually, I picked a sweet, yet spicy one, in a round, dark red bottle, that simply read 'Heart'. Ready, I was fifteen minutes early, but I could already hear sounds from downstairs. Choosing to be present early, rather than making a noticed arrival, I sauntered down the stairs, careful in my precautious shoes.

I walked in to what I hoped to avoid: a statement entrance. People talking in the main room stopped when I appeared, staring at me like an experiment. Mortified, I stumbled across the room, and found a seat alone in the corner. The silence didn't evaporate. I was terrified to glance up, in case they were still looking at me. "My daughter, Imshi." I heard Mr. Lochet announce, and I managed to draw my gaze from the floor, confident I could safely look at him. His eyes darted around the room, a slight amused smile playing on his lips. "I believe everybody is present; shall we make our way to the halls?" He asked, turning and wandering away. I realized it was a habit of his, walking away. The guests started moving out of the room after him, and as they shuffled out of the room, I estimated there to be over fifty guests, that I could see anyway. I didn't know what Mr. Lochet had meant by 'halls'. I couldn't imagine him entertaining guests in the corridors, and surely he didn't have a grand hall – I had explored the house, and hadn't seen a room bigger than the main room, the one I was in.

I stood up and joined the group, before I was last, again. Despite feeling awkward, I realized it was in my best interests to blend in. Lifting my dress slightly, my hand brushed another hand, colder than the night. Gasping, I recoiled slightly, forgetting my manners. Quickly, I looked up to the face of the person, and up some more… and more. No wonder he's so cold, there's so much of him to heat up! I thought, staring at the giant before me.

He had recoiled too, I noted. "Your hands…! So warm!" He exclaimed, looking closely at me. His accent surprised me… it sounded English, but I couldn't be sure. It was very articulate.

"I have good circulation," I mumbled, hesitant about making conversation.

"What?" He raised his eyebrows, and stared at me, studied me. "Oh. Ok. I don't. It's like I don't have any circulation at all," He chuckled awkwardly, like jokes were new to him. We had passed out of the main room, and into the hall. I saw then that some of the walls of the corridor had opened up, into a huge, old fashioned ballroom like hall, with sofas and lounge chairs filling most of the space regularly used for dancing in. The only window took up most of the wall at the end of the room, allowing the moonlight to graze the edge of the floor. I stared in awe as the guests leisurely took their seats, acting like this was a merely average room. It even had a bar! It was unattended, and for a worried second, I believed it to be a horrible joke, and that I was meant to be behind the bar. But then I saw one of the guests walk up to it, and help themselves to a bright red drink.

I heard quiet laughter at my side, and craned my neck up to see the tall, cold man looking down at me, smiling. "For a daughter, you act like you've never been to the house," He remarked. "Come, sit with me. You seem nervous," He said, and I followed him to a sofa, close to the other guests, but not close enough to be involved in their conversations. He settled down in the sofa, turning against the side to face me, leaning his gangly leg and foot on the upholstery carelessly. They were all so careless, people of this lifestyle. "My name is Will," He told me. "I come from England, originally, but I've been so many other places… I can barely remember it." He smiled, clearly anticipating my life story in response.

"I'm Imshi…" I said uncertainly. What next? Did he know more about Mr. Lochet than me? Would he know I was lying? "And-"

He cut me off, "You're not Alexis' daughter. Not biologically." He said it quietly, sensitively.

I smiled, and shook my head slightly. "Not in any way."

"I won't tell a… soul." He said, grinning mischievously.

"Do you know anybody here? Except from Mr. Lochet, of course," I asked curiously, confused as to why he was spending time with me.

"I know them all," He said, in a tone that could have been amusement, or annoyance. His face was tight and emotionless. I studied his face, noticing how interesting it was. His eyes were large in his face, and a piercing pale blue, like ice. He had a long, thin face, much like the rest of him, and a crop of short, mousy brown hair. He had three red, deep scars running down the side of his pale face, the only colour on his skin. He must have noticed my gaze on them, as he put his hand up to his cheek, and placed three of his fingers in the marks. "Ah. Your 'father' did that to me." He said, smiling like it was a fond memory.

"What?" I gasped, glancing between Mr. Lochet and the scars on Will's face.

"Yes. But it was a long time ago, and it was deserved. "Arrogance and immaturity will not do you well in this kingdom." He said, as though advising me. "Especially when you live with the king." The air seemed to chill, simply with his warning gaze. He seemed ages older, though he couldn't have been much older than me. He stood up and left me, just as the room went quiet once more. "Beautiful dress, by the way." Was Will's parting comment.

"Good evening!" A voice boomed from the other side of the room. "Thank you all for attending tonight. We are here to welcome my daughter, Imshi, to the house. Imshi, come up and meet everyone!" He called. My face burst into flames. Heat flared to my cheeks, but a chill rose up my spine. Something seemed strange in his words. It might have just been because he was addressing me as his daughter, but it seemed like… more. The whole night felt weird. And I certainly didn't want to stand up.

Nonetheless, I stood up, and walked over, my legs shaking. As I walked toward him, I had a chance to look around the room at the other guests. It seemed safe to say that my boss kept beautiful friends. They were all very different, of course, but there were no faces too thin, no eyes too big or mouths too small. Every feature fitted the individual perfectly. There were ladies with magnificent dresses, prettier than my violet gown, in all colours, shapes and sizes. I scanned the room quickly, looking for Marie. She was nowhere to be seen, of course. Mr. Lochet couldn't be seen to be enjoying the company of such women. This was the crème de la crème of the upper class. Even young Will, my 'friend', seemed elite to me. I couldn't possibly fit in.

I stopped a few steps away from Mr. Lochet, unsure on why he wanted me to stand. Was I to say hello? Or just be seen? I didn't need to worry for long; he swooped over, drawing a long, silver object from his stylish charcoal jacket. I leapt back as I saw it, reality crashing in on me. It was a cult. It had to be. And I was the sacrifice. "Need not worry, dear." He smiled, though the expression seemed thin, something else was going on. "It's ceremonial. Like a tradition." He traced the flat side of the dagger with his long fingers. "You see, we are a family. Everyone here is connected. By my blade, by my blood-" He sliced his finger against the blade, letting blood rest by the point. "I welcome Imshi." He held the blade out, palm up, as though for me to take it. I didn't.

It could have been the biggest mistake. It might not have mattered. I saw it happen. I heard myself scream. He plunged the still bloodstained dagger into my neck.

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