I lowered myself into the chair as Sera gathered my damp hair carefully behind me.
“First, I will style your hair.”
I watched her reflection as she reached for a brush.
“And then?”
“Your makeup.”
Her eyes moved toward the jewelry cases.
“Then the finishing touches.”
I sighed.
Apparently, getting dressed had only been the easy part.
Sera began with my hair, draping a towel around my shoulders before gathering the still-damp platinum strands behind me, separating them with her fingers, and working through the worst of the tangles with a wide-toothed comb.
I winced as it caught somewhere near the back.
“Careful.”
“I am being careful.”
“Then please be even more careful.”
I observed her through the mirror.
“You moved around considerably in your sleep.”
“Are assistants supposed to find fault with their mistresses? I didn’t take you for that type, Sera.”
I deliberately copied Evelyn’s tone as closely as I could, even lifting my chin the way she tended to when she wanted to sound particularly imperious.
Heh. You two aren’t the only ones who can play this game.
Sera froze, only for a moment, but it was enough to tell me she hadn’t expected me to imitate Evelyn quite that convincingly.
“I apologize, my lady.”
Strangely, she sounded almost pleased about being reprimanded.
That was not the reaction I had been expecting, and I decided that pursuing the subject any further would probably be unhealthy for my peace of mind.
The process became considerably less unpleasant once the tangles were gone. Sera worked something lightly scented through the damp lengths before picking up a dryer, directing the warm air downward while running a brush through my hair section by section.
I had never given much thought to how long it took women with hair as long as Evelyn’s to get ready, but I was beginning to understand why.
Still, watching the transformation happen was strangely satisfying. The damp strands gradually regained their pale silver-blonde shine, falling smoothly down my back instead of clinging together in wet ropes. Sera didn’t style it into anything elaborate, merely giving the long layers enough shape to frame my face neatly and leaving the ends with a subtle natural curve.
When she finally switched the dryer off, I reached up and ran my fingers carefully through one side.
“My hair actually feels soft and nice.”
“It always does.”
There it was again.
Everything Evelyn normally did was apparently becoming something I normally did as well.
I met Sera’s eyes in the mirror, but she was already reaching for the cosmetics.
“Try not to look so apprehensive.”
“I’ve never had someone approach my face with that many brushes before.”
“You survived an assassination attempt yesterday.”
“Evelyn survived it. I just inherited the aftermath.”
A small smile appeared on Sera’s face before she stepped closer.
“Close your eyes.”
Something soft passed lightly across my eyelids first. Sera worked with a precision that made the process feel less like applying makeup and more like performing some delicate technical procedure, with no thick layer being spread across my face or anything remotely resembling the dramatic transformation I had half expected.
Most of her attention remained around my eyes. She darkened the lashes, added a subtle line along them, and worked a muted shade around the lids, occasionally tilting my chin or asking me to look upward while she adjusted something beneath my eyes.
“Don’t blink.”
“That is considerably easier to say when you aren’t holding something directly beside my eyeball.”
“You blink more when you complain.”
I immediately stopped talking.
Sera’s lips twitched.
A few minutes later, she stepped back.
“You can look now.”
I opened my eyes and stared at the mirror.
The difference was very subtle, enough that I still looked unmistakably like Evelyn, yet the face in the mirror seemed somehow sharper than it had only a few minutes earlier. Her sapphire-blue eyes appeared more defined, their shape emphasized just enough to make the naturally youthful softness around them less noticeable.
I leaned closer.
“I expected you to use more stuff.”
“Too much is as bad as too little. It’s not like we’re applying makeup to enhance your beauty.”
There was no flattery in the way she said it, merely a statement of fact.
Sera turned my face slightly toward the light.
“You have always preferred keeping the makeup relatively light. Mostly around the eyes.”
“To make myself look older.”
“To make people stop thinking your age gives them permission to disregard you.”
I looked at the reflection again.
That sounded much more like Evelyn.
Sera selected a lipstick next.
Thankfully, it was nowhere near the vivid shade from the gala. This one was softer, somewhere between rose and muted red, enough to give my lips definition without drawing attention away from everything else.
“Open slightly.”
The lipstick felt surprisingly smooth as she applied it, followed by the faint pressure of her thumb correcting one corner.
Then she handed me a tissue.
“Press your lips against it.”
When I looked back up, the woman in the mirror had changed again, although not dramatically, which was exactly what made it strange. Nothing Sera had done seemed particularly significant on its own, yet taken together, the effect was unmistakable: the eighteen-year-old face I had woken up with was still there, but it now carried enough polish and deliberate severity that I could imagine someone several decades older thinking twice before dismissing her.
Sera opened the first jewellery case.
Inside was a pair of small sapphire earrings surrounded by tiny clear stones. The stones were small enough not to be ostentatious, but the blue sapphires immediately drew attention to my eyes.
She picked one of them up and stepped closer.
I instinctively tilted my head as she reached for my ear.
“At least I don’t have to learn how to pierce them.”
I said it sarcastically, increasingly annoyed by the sheer number of things I was expected to learn in such a short amount of time, most of which I had never had the slightest interest in knowing.
“You’ve had pierced ears for years.”
“One less thing to worry about, then.”
By now, I had noticed that playing along with their little word games seemed to make both of them considerably more satisfied. If pretending along could raise my favorability with the two women currently controlling most of my immediate circumstances, I saw no reason not to do it.
The necklace came next: a thin chain with a modest sapphire pendant resting just beneath the hollow of my throat.