Once Upon a Nightmare

blame it on blue eyes

x: blame it on blue eyes

 

I slowly edge myself into the hallway, wishing I could enjoy this more. Living inside an enormous dark castle is one of my dreams. But I don’t know where Alexander went, I’m worried about him despite myself, and in the meantime I need to find the King of Nightmares and convince him to tell me where the Stitch in Time is.

I make it one step before a bright voice says, “Good morning!”

I turn and see the princess giving me a familiar smile as if it’s already a normal habit of ours to meet in the morning. Given her expectant stance right outside Alexander’s room, I have to wonder if she’s been assigned to babysit me. “Hi. Um, Genevieve right?” Her beauty is a little less in-your-face now that she’s wearing a soft, summer dress and her dark hair is in a low ponytail, but still—it’s shocking. Up close, it’s very hard not to stare at her.

“Genn is . . . fine.” Her eyes widen. “Oh dear.”

“What?” I ask, glancing self-consciously over my shoulder.

She approaches me and takes both my hands in hers. “Honey,” she says softly and swallows. “I mean this nicely, but . . . you look like a homeless person.”

“I do?” I touch my hair. I haven’t combed it since . . . well. At all. What was I supposed to do? Gloom didn’t have a lot of hair products at his place. That—and Sweeney’s dress has now endured a Masquerade, an ambush, and a night of restless sleeping.

“In here,” she says and ushers me into what I assume is her bedroom. I see it for maybe a second before she pushes me into the bathroom. It’s enormous and filled with ivory and gold lining. She’s taking off Sweeney’s old dress before I can begin to ask for some privacy.

“Excuse me,” I begin.

“Shower’s there.” She pushes me inside and a blast of steamy, scented water hits my bare skin.

“I’ll be right back with some clothes,” she calls.

She isn’t kidding. I’ve barely found what I hope is shampoo and scrubbed out my hair before she’s rapping on the glass. “Are you finished?”

“Basically—”

The water shuts off and she’s there, rubbing me down with a huge fluffy towel. She fits me into a simple, knee-length black dress and sits me on a stool in front of her vanity. The sheer volume of make-up, hair brushes and other beauty supplies ranks in the top five of scariest things I’ve seen since stepping into the city of Nightmares. It’s only a little behind Night Terrors.

“I don’t usually wear make up,” I say.

“I can tell,” she answers. “Don’t worry, I’m not doing anything drastic.”

A hair dryer revs to life beside my ear. It only takes moments to dry my short locks and in the princess’s hands, it doesn’t look like a giant cat threw up a hairball on my head like it usually does. She gratefully doesn’t use any make up, but puts a cream over my face to give me ‘a light glow.’

At last she finishes and spins me toward her. “There we go. Nice and simple. And clean. I threw your other dress in the fireplace. I would apologize if I was sorry.”

I smile. I can’t help it. She’s just so . . . I don’t know. Something. Maybe it’s her quick confidence so like Alexander’s that’s hard not to like. And I have to admit, it does feel nice to be clean and groomed.

“Violet, right?” she asks.

“Yes,” I say softly. “Violet Darcey.” I tug at the fabric of the dress. Genn is a little curvier than me, but it fits well enough. “Thanks.”