Restored (A Caleo Selection)

2 ~ A Nostalgia So Piercing

I stared up at the huge oak doors to the palace as my limousine pulled up at the entrance. I knew this place so well. I had lived here for so many years, until the axe finally fell.

I shook my head to clear it and accepted the driver's hand in stepping out of the car. It had been almost eight years since I had shown my face here. Surely no one would remember me.

Billie had already entered the palace, and Hazel and Eliza were following her. I hastened after them, hurrying up the marble steps and through the doors. My fingers traced a small scratch on the door, and I recognized it as from the time Dionysus ran into the door when he was five. He'd been teased about it for years into his adulthood.

In the main entryway, we joined twenty-three of the other girls of all different races and nationalities, all having been drawn for the Selection. I saw one with green-streaked hair and another with at least half a dozen piercings in each ear. Dark skin and fair, curly hair and straight, tall and short -- all were represented, and I was relieved in that I was most definitely not the most noticeable of the group.

Wondering if I should try to join a conversation, I stood awkwardly near two girls with dark hair who were admiring the mantel over the fireplace. I considered pointing out that the design on the front was reminiscent of Indian culture, but that was too close to flat-out saying I remembered the day the ambassador from India has gifted it to us.

There was a lot I would have to learn to keep to myself.

Shouldn't be hard, I reassured myself. I spent more than seven years in solitude. I can keep my mouth shut about some things.

Eight more girls entered in two groups a few minutes after we did, and a lady with light brown hair and blue eyes clapped for our attention.

"Welcome, Illéans!" she cried enthusiastically. "I am Lady Hebe, and I will be leading you girls in your activities here at the palace. First off, I will take you on a tour of the palace, and afterwards, you will follow me to the makeover room, and then, our reliable servants will take you to your bedrooms. Dinner will commence after you are all settled. Now, let us begin!"

And so, after a rather brief tour to which I did not need to pay much attention, thirty-five very different girls trailed down a long hallway and entered a large room with dozens of mirrors and servants. The makeover stations were each labelled with one of our names, and I found my station about twelve stations down the line. A servant ushered me to sit, and two stylists came over.

"Lady Calypso, is it?" said the first stylist. She had auburn hair with yellow tips, and impeccable skin. I wondered how long in the morning it took for her to look that perfect.

The second stylist held out his hand. "I'm Jeremy, and this is Tressa," he said. "We'll be your stylists for now. What kind of look are you going for?"

I stared at him blankly. "Uh, what are the options?"

"Well, you could be gorgeous, or tough, or cute, or sexy, or any number of things. This is what your wardrobe and makeup supply will be based off of while you're here."

I looked at the pots and tubes of goo on the table in front of me. "How should I know? Isn't that supposed to be your job to decide?"

Tressa smiled indulgently. "We're just here to be advisors. What would you like, my lady? It's up to you."

"I'm hardly yet a lady. Do whatever you think is best." I spent the next hour being polished and painted. I wasn't sure I liked the feel of make-up on my eyes, but kept my doubts to myself. Even as they raked combs and strong-smelling liquids through my hair, I held my tongue.