When their new clothes were carried in, Evie rushed forward, forgetting herself completely at the sight of such beautiful material. Her mother's rants about how inferior the cloth was on the Isle and how her dresses had been back in Prurian suddenly made sense. Deep, rich colors. Soft to the touch even when new and not after having been worn down to something more pliant or less itchy.
Awed, Evie brushed her hand over the skirt of one of the dresses. Smooth. Soft. And the color was so vibrant!
"Miss?" the servant asked and Evie startled, stumbling back several steps, face flushing a light red, realizing she was crowding the maid. There were no handmaidens on the Isle, but her mother had told her about them. She was also naked, and while she didn't care too much about modesty, the people of Auradon were far more particular about such things.
"I'm sorry. I've never seen such beautiful material," she said and Mal snorted. Evie ignored her. Mal had never understood everything that went into making clothes. All she cared about was aesthetic and functionality. But there was so much more to it. The right material and needle and thread. The connections and hems. The way everything fell and rested.
For a moment, the two maids paused, exchanging looks, before one of them said, "We'll help you dress. Some of the ties can be difficult to do by yourself."
Mal's lip curled. "I know how to dress myself thanks."
When the two women froze, uncertain and awkward, Evie smiled at them. "Don't mind her. If she needs help, I can do it."
That was apparently good enough for them, though they, and Mal, didn't look happy about it. One handed Mal an armful of clothes. The dress was a soft shade of purple that Evie had never seen before with a modest scoop neckline. Included among the pile were extra skirts nearly the same length as the dress itself. It took a moment for Evie to place them. Petticoats. Actual petticoats.
Her own clothes caught her attention as the maids helped dry the last of her skin before she slipped into her undergarments. A corset, beautifully made and structured, was fitted around her and she marveled at the support. The ratty thing she'd used on the Isle was like a torture device compared to this. While it wasn't a perfect fit, it fit well enough and she trailed her fingers over the ribbing as one maid set to work tightening it. Next were her own petticoats. Simple yet functional and still incredibly soft and light. The weaving was fine and delicate, nothing like the messy, itchy wool cloth produced on the Isle. Even Cruella's cloth wasn't this fine, and she had grown up in the fashion industry.
And then her dress…Oh her dress.
It was a stunning shade of jade, rich and deep as the stone itself, with a brown ribbon just below her bust. The short sleeves puffed up just enough to give them shape on her shoulders. When she moved, the fabric flowed and swayed. There was never enough material to make such long skirts on the Isle and the swish of it moving through the air with her was like magic.
"I'm not wearing this."
Mal's voice cut through her thoughts and she turned to find the other girl kicking away the petticoats while yanking the dress off over her head. The corset was lopsided and sagging low on her figure, sloppily tied.
"You cannot wear the clothes you came in," the head maid protested. "And we don't have another dress prepared for your meal with the prince."
"Then get me some pants and a shirt," Mal replied as she dropped the dress to the floor, glaring at it as if it had personally offended her. Perhaps it had. Mal was difficult to please.
Both women looked stricken, torn between proper etiquette and expectations and a stubborn Mal.
"It's not proper ma'am," one of them tried, "if you let us help, we can make sure it is comfortable."
"Like hell I'm letting you touch me!" Mal sneered, eyes flaring green, and Evie stepped between her and the maids. She didn't think Mal actually would hurt them, but this wasn't making a good impression, and the servants were most definitely reporting their behavior to the prince.
Finally, one of them said carefully, "I'm sure we can find something suitable for the meal. With the corset, a shirt should be passable."
"I'll help her with the corset," Evie offered. "If you could find something for her, that would be best."
They didn't argue. With quick curtsies, they disappeared back into the hall.
Moving to Mal's side, Evie began untangling the mess Mal had made of the corset. "It's a lovely dress."
"It's impossible to move in and has too many stupid layers," Mal retorted. "And if I wear it once, they'll expect me to wear it again. Besides, I don't do 'lovely'."
"We're going to be meeting the prince," Evie reminded her as she straightened out the corset and began to tighten it properly. These really were amazing. The way they held their shape and didn't require extra ties to stay in place…
"Don't forget why we're here, E. Forget the fashion. The prince summoned us so he should get us. Not some dressed up fake us."
Of course. Expression falling just a touch, Evie nodded. "You're right. But, Mal, we can't go back either. Our mothers will be… displeased."
There was a pause then Mal sighed. "You're right. We need to blend in at least a little while we're here. I guess fashion will have to be part of that. Just stay focused, okay?"
A small smile tugging at her lips, Evie stepped back and studied her handiwork. "Of course."
Mal's corset finally in place and properly tied, Evie moved to their bags and dug out her makeup kit before moving to the mirror. No cracks marred the surface or her reflection and for a moment she faltered. There were so many imperfections and now even the mirrors mocked her. She couldn't meet the prince looking like this. It'd be a disgrace. A failure. Swallowing hard, she opened her kit.
As she applied concealer, she saw Mal shift in the mirror. Then, "I think you should speak for us at lunch."
Evie blinked.
"I don't know how to talk to a fucking prince. And I don't know how to play all the games he does," Mal continued. "I can answer some important questions, but of the four of us, you can blend in the easiest."
"Mal, I-"
Mal interrupted. "You can outplay him. Get the secrets from him while keeping ours. I wouldn't ask you if I didn't think you could."
Cheeks warming slightly, Evie lowered her brush. "I won't let you down."
"I know."
By the time the maids returned, Evie had already applied most of her makeup and was just about done. They'd managed to find Mal a pair of nice cream pants they called "riding pants" and a shirt that was another shade of purple. Mal frowned, but didn't protest further. After all, she wasn't wearing a dress and they'd technically gotten her what she'd asked for.
The boys were waiting for them in the hall. Jay's hair was pulled back up into a bun again while Carlos's hair had been trimmed so it no longer fell into his eyes, though his hair had changed to stay the appropriate mix of black and white as it always did whenever his hair was cut. A trait they couldn't explain since there was no magic in his bloodline. Jay and Carlos both wore dark pants and white shirts. Carlos's vest was black while Jay's vest was a rich, dark red that accented his skin tone perfectly. She'd have to get her hands on that shade while they were here. It was spectacular on him.
Both of them stared at her, mouths gaping a little like a fish. With a smile, Evie spun for them and Carlos swallowed hard.
"You look great," he told her, and her smile brightened.
Before she could say anything, the man in charge began to usher them down the hall.
"Come along. The prince has been kept waiting long enough."
The prince. The prince of Auradon who had chosen to summon them. The prince that would become king one day. A prince her mother would want her to catch.
They were led through another set of hallways and down a flight of stairs to a set of large double doors with a pair of guards standing watch. It was impossible not to feel their gaze and she subtly took Carlos's hand when he moved closer.
And then the doors were opening and a voice announced, "Your guests from the Isle of the Lost, Prince Benjamin."