Page 5 of The Endless Dance

Rita returns to the basket she had carried into the tent earlier and starts pulling out what looks to be beauty products. I sit up, eyeing the growing pile.

“What are those?” I ask warily.

“Hmm?” Rita glances over her shoulder at me and sees me watching. “Oh, these? The Wild Hunt is ending soon. The Fae like to spend the day celebrating and showing off their prizes. Lord Draekoh is no exception. He hasn’t said as much, but I know fae; he hungers for the jealousy of his kin. It’s also a big male ego thing, which I’m sure you will pick up on by yourself.”

I snort. They were nothing but peacocks, fluttering their feathers about.

Rita stands and puts her hands on her hips. “Come now, let us get you ready.”

She pulls a stool from near the entrance of the tent and sets it next to her cosmetics. I can’t help but groan as I stomp towards her like a crabby child. I was never a makeup girl; I didn’t believe in it at all. Every woman was beautiful in their own unique way. Covering up with cakes of colours and powders felt like a lie or a disguise. Even for prom, a night of every girl’s dream, I had only submitted myself to a layer of mascara and a clear lip gloss.

This was going to suck!

I collapse onto the stool and slump. “Let’s just get this over with, then, shall we?”

* * *

Unfortunately, there’s no getting over with it. It takes hours.

Rita starts with my eyes, lining them with a deep kohl that flicks past the corner of my eye to make a perfect point. She then dabs a variety of glittery powders onto my closed eyelids and runs mascara through my lashes.

Frieda starts on my hair while Rita turns her sights to my cheeks and nose, sharpening my features with a combination of dark and light paints. Frieda’s work is unfortunately far less gentle and precise. With every knot, my head is yanked painfully to the side, much to Rita’s annoyance.

“Hold her steady!” Rita hisses after this has happened for the dozenth time. “Keep that up and I’ll never have her ready on time!”

Frieda sasses right back.

“Oh, sure,” she snorts. “You try working with this nest!”

I bite back a grin. She wasn’t wrong, and I did not envy her job. I loathed dealing with my hair on the best of days. And after the Hunt? Yikes. I could only imagine what kind of state it was in.

Laska strode back inside at that moment, garment bag in hand. Having overheard Frieda’s complaints, she strolls over with an exasperated sigh.

“Take this,” she says, handing Frieda the bag. “Get the dress prepared. Ensure there are no wrinkles or loose threads. The High Lord expects perfection.”

My lips twitch. He should have thought of that before choosing to Hunt the girl with the wildest mane and snarkiest temper. I keep my mouth shut, however, and let the women and female get on with their work.

It turns out Laska is much steadier with the brush. Not once is my head tugged to the side, nor do I feel any telltale snagging of a newly found knot. After a moment, my curiosity gets the better of me.

“Ok, tell me. Do you have some kind of hair-taming magic, Laska?”

Laska laughs, and even Rita cracks a smile before she refocuses on blending the makeup down my neck.

“My father is of the Day Court, and thus I have inherited minor heat and light abilities,” she explains, running the brush blissfully over my scalp. I blink when I realise I can feel the mentioned heat upon my head. “I am simply applying both to the strands, which encourages them to loosen from their knots. The heat is also straightening your hair.”

My eyebrows jerk in pleasant surprise. “You, Laska, are officially on hair duties for the rest of my miserable life,” I declare. “Do you know how long it takes me to look after this disaster?”

Laska scoffs, “This is what you call taking care of? Yikes.” I get the feeling she’s half joking with me, half being the keyword. I’m not offended, though.

“You have no idea,” I grin.

“Alright, I have to do your lips now,” Rita interrupts. “Pucker up.”

I roll my eyes, but do as I am bid. The women and female chatter amongst themselves as they continue to work, but I lose focus pretty quickly. I never was one for gossip.

Instead, I let my mind drift. I think of Akari and wonder how she is managing with Lord Sol. Would I get to see her today? I suppose some fae would simply return to their homes with their humans, while others measured the lengths of their cocks by parading their prizes around.

I think about Jasmin, how terrified she must have been in her last moments. Her final days, really. I had Akari by my side, and then Anya whispering what knowledge she could in my ear. Jasmin had had no one. She had no guidance, no shoulder to lean on, both of which were so important for the timid girl. I blink back a tear as I remember her corpse cooling on the forest floor. Rita would not be happy if I smudged her careful work on my face.