Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 101

Chapter 101: Makeover montage!
Anaisa balked at the extreme lengths everyone was going to for the sake of her appearance. Some sort of mud was plastered on her skin, fancy oils massaged into her hair, all followed by a rose-scented bath.

That, at least, she did enjoy, but it was far shorter than she wanted it to be.

Why make such a lovely, hot, wonderful smelling bath if no one was going to linger in its luxurious waters? It was a terrible shame.

“No one’s fed me today,” She whined to Trace when he briefly appeared between the comings and goings of various beauty professionals. Her nails were painted. Fine jewelry was brought from the treasury to match her gown for the evening. Her feet were massaged and then bound in strips of fabric to ensure they would fit into the delicate shoes that would be brought up later.

Could the palace not afford to buy shoes that actually fit well, or were tiny feet such an important marker of beauty that they thought this was necessary?

Anaisa hoped she could find a way to sneak her own shoes on under the grand ballgown. She would dearly love to avoid spraining an ankle this evening.

The one thing she noticed a distinct absence of was magic. Sapphira confided that King Harold became very wary of magic users since Yemi was involved in the kidnapping plot. Sanders had personally recommended Deborah, but other than her, the beauty treatments remained mundane.

“There also aren’t a lot of magic skills useful specifically in beauty,” Sapphira explained in a rare lull between people entering and exiting. “I should know, I searched them all out. Pestered Sanders often. He was as patient as he could be, but I do believe he quickly tired of my vanity.”

“You’ve changed,” Anaisa commented, finally finding an opportunity to comment on the princess’s softening personality.

“Everyone was scared of me, or not allowed to see me,” Sapphira sighed. “I suppose that will change now, after coming out, but you were really the first one besides Father and the queen. The servants… none of them dared talk back. You were raised noble, so I suppose that factored into you not fearing me.”

“Perhaps,” Anaisa allowed, although Trace’s example of pushing back on the princess’s spoiled nature was what had really allowed her to begin treating Sapphira more as an equal than someone who could have her easily executed for insubordination. “Do you like who you’re becoming?”

“It’s plain the servants like you better than they ever liked me,” Sapphira gave a weak smile, “not that being liked by servants is the standard by which one lives their life, but I do admire how the queen has servants who are so loyal they seem eager to work for her rather than obligated.”

“If it helps, I like you more now than when we first met,” Anaisa grinned.

“Well, I suppose that’s because I threatened your execution almost immediately upon our acquaintance, just after having some of your hair ripped out of your head and lying to you about being able to know if you told anyone about it.” Sapphira ducked her head.

“I knew you had to be lying about that!” Anaisa scrunched her face and stuck out her tongue. “If my fingernails weren’t wet right now, I’d pick up one of these cushions and throw it at you. Little sneak!”

“Does that make us friends?” Sapphira bit her lip. “Father said he’d keep you on as my companion, but I don’t want to force you to if you’d rather not…”

“I think we’re definitely friends,” Anaisa smiled warmly, but it faded. “I don’t know what will happen in the future, but I will always remain that, if you need me.”

That was the best promise she could make at the moment. With Trace being blackmailed, there was no telling how the future would go.

It seemed unfair to leverage her friendship with the princess into helping Trace. She didn’t want to use someone for what she could get out of them… but then, isn’t that how her relationship with Trace had begun?

She felt ashamed of it now.

Even as he still had secrets from her, she felt a pang of guilt every time she thought about their early days of marriage, when she planned to leave him as soon as she had her revenge fully plotted.

Revenge for something that wasn’t even real. Her father had never been a real Count, and she never a real count’s daughter.

Anaisa looked down at her slowly drying fingernails, so perfectly glossy and beautiful.

If Trace was able to throw his blackmailer off, he would go home to his farm. Would she go with him?

As long as he kept things from her, she didn’t know that she could fully trust him with her heart. He’d spoken of being ashamed of what he had to do. Unless she knew exactly what that was, it would surely be unwise to move forward.

She could remain here as the princess’s companion indefinitely, if she wished. She didn’t really think Trace would try to stop her, if it was what she wanted.

Because, after all they’d been through, he still seemed to put her needs first.

The plain truth was that, out of all the men she’d ever met, he was still the least objectionable. She didn’t set her hopes on finding anyone better in the world.

The only consideration at this point was whether it was better to be married to him, with secrets between them still, or to remain functionally single and serve in the palace, likely being the princess’s double whenever danger was involved.

She didn’t quite like that aspect, but the food, at least, was delightful.

Glancing toward the door, she wished Trace would come back from whatever errand he was on now. Guards at the door kept the ladies confined for today, so he had been helping with various security measures for the ball itself to make it easier for the princess to remain safe. That was a shame and a blessing

Anaisa felt so much calmer, and so much less calm, when he was around.