Crimson Lace

Chapter 15

ELLE
CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I spend the better portion of the night lying awake. My brain is too full to sleep but too tired to think, so I end up staring at the ceiling for hours on end. I can't stop wondering what my mother might be like. If she belongs to a Noble house, and what abilities she possesses.

King Keaton insisted I be woken up promptly at six-o'clock this morning. He wouldn't want his favorite pet to be late to the press conference. The better part of my morning is spent in preparation for the event. My hair is matted and still slightly damp from my shower last night, but my stylist Fargo attempts to curl it again. A hot sizzle burns my ear.

"Ouch."

"Sorry. The iron slipped," Fargo replies in his formal accent. He puts his cold, pale hand to my ear, allowing his fingers to ice over with his ability. The freezing touch feels good on the hot, burned skin. But still I am very close to wanting to rip out his ridiculously curly, white mustache. My eyes stray to the mirror instead. Cedrick butters me up with foundation and highlighter.

"Be sure to add some extra concealer this time Cedrick. Her eyes look red and puffy today." He pauses to address me. "And darling, tired doesn't look good on you. How many times do I have to tell you to get nine hours each night."

Fargo always has critiques, and he isn't afraid to voice them no matter how rude they may be.

Thankfully, Cedick went for a more natural look today instead of the usual clown-like makeup. I'm pleasantly surprised by the absence of crazy eyeliner and bright lipstick. Instead he merely accentuates my lips and adds some light red shadow on my eyelids. The coloring highlights my naturally grey irises.

Cedrick possesses the ability of a Slick, which makes him blessed with the power of speed and agility, so doing my makeup takes him less than a few seconds to complete. At this rate I should have extra time to myself before the event starts.

This conference is a last minute way for Keaton to address the circumstances of yesterday's events. Apparently some Serfs in Ageon viewed the shooting as a spark in rebellion. They started setting fire to buildings and fighting back last night. The threat was neutralized, but the king wants me to speak on behalf of the crown and attempt to disarm these ideas of revolution before they spiral out of control again. However, I have other plans.

Hattie stopped by to drop off my script and the rose corsage. I ripped the flower up the moment I saw it, tossing its mangled remains out the window of my balcony. It felt great to rid myself of the stupid thing that is meant to mark me as somebody else's property. My ID does the same thing as the roses I am meant to wear, but the branded scar isn't so easily tossed off the balcony.

"Flawless," Cedrick whispers under his breath while admiring his handiwork. I nod in response to show my appreciation. Fargo just rolls his eyes. "Good luck." I can't tell if Cedrick is talking to me or his husband, but he turns on his heels and exits my room.

Fargo remains in place, finishing up my hair. He waits until Cedrick shuts the door before he speaks. "I hope you know what you're doing." Fargo looks up from my hair to meet my eyes in the mirror.

My heart skips a beat. "I don't know what you're talking about." I'm a great actress. Years of pretending to be something you are not will give you that skill.

"Don't lie to me, Eleya. I know you were conspiring with the Crimson Reapers." He sounds awfully calm for someone who just called me out for committing treason. Simply contemplating joining a gang is a death sentence in itself if you get caught, and I basically just dug myself a grave. My fists tense in my lap. It's infuriating that I have been caught without actually doing anything wrong first.