FROST- Jotun Chronicles #1

Discovered

The next morning was a whirlwind of activity. I was scrubbed, powdered and perfumed within an inch of my life. Now I sat looking at a stranger in the mirror while one of the servants, a petite blonde girl, tugged on my hair..

                “Wow,” Charlotte stood behind us, peering into the mirror at me, “I barely recognize you!”

                “No kidding,” I examined the bright red lipstick that contrasted with my pale skin. They’d sent in a makeup artist who had done my eyes up in black liner and smoky shadow, and my eyes looked huge and dark.  Another sharp tug on my scalp made me wince, and the servant girl said softly,

                “Just be another moment, miss. Almost finished.”

                “Don’t worry,” I tried to sound reassuring, since the poor girl looked nervous, “I’m just a big wuss.”

                After another couple of minutes she drew back, “There, all done. Would you like to see the back?”

                The front was beautiful. She’d curled a few strands of blonde hair and left them hanging in the front, and a line of clear glass beads sat just behind my side bangs. When the girl held a hand mirror behind my head I could see that the back was done in intricate twists and braided at the bottom.

                “Wow,” I breathed, “that looks amazing.”

                The girl looked pleased, “I tried to make it look like something the Queen would wear. I’ll help you get dressed then, miss.”

                Practically on cue there came a gentle knock at the door, and the seamstress entered holding a white garment bag, “Dress is ready.” The tall woman crossed over and examined my hair, “wonderful job, Mary.”

                The servant girl blushed, “Thank you.”

                “Let’s get you dressed,” the seamstress said to me, and I stood up, scraping back the vanity chair.  It was a little startling how fast she whipped off my regular clothes. I stood in front of the mirror, red faced, in just a bra and panties. The servant, Mary, unzipped the garment bag and handed the seamstress a length of silver fabric, which the seamstress held carefully, unzipping the side.

                “Slide into this,” she commanded, “but keep your hand on my shoulder when you do it. Be careful not to yank on the fabric.”

                I did as I was told, a little petrified. The dress slipped up over my bare thighs and torso, feeling silky against my skin.

                “Suck it in,” the seamstress said cheerfully, and then she zipped up the side and took a little while walking around me, tugging the fabric into place, “alright. Have a look.”

                I walked carefully into the bathroom where the full length mirror was, the fabric moving fluidly around my legs. Finally, when I stepped in front of the mirror my jaw dropped. This elegant creature couldn’t possibly be me. Huge, doe eyes and ruby red lips, a swan-like neck and pale shimmering curls that framed her face.

             The dress was exquisite. Soft silver fabric hugged my upper body, studded with tiny flecks of diamonds that sparkled when I moved. The dress flared out just under my hips and draped over my legs, pooling on the floor around me like quicksilver.

                Charlotte peered around the doorway, laughing, “You should see your face! That looks amazing on you by the way.” She had slipped into a free-flowing white dress and she was pulling her hair into a pony tail while she stared at me.