In the Eyes of the Queen [ Labyrinth ] ✔

Chapter Six

I wake Monday morning to a pleasantly quiet flat. My bed squeaks as I shift to the edge and Gelda stirs in her sleep. I shake my head in exasperation. She is sleeping on the sofa again.

As quietly as I can manage, I put my foldaway bed into its daytime position, clearing some floor space. I take a shower, and by the time I am done, I smell breakfast in the making and quickly throw on a robe and gently twist my hair into a towel (quite a feat considering how long my hair is, but I have it down to a science).

I step out of the bathroom to the familiar sight of Gelda preparing breakfast in my kitchenette.

"Good morning, Lady Sarah." She pauses, once again concentrating on recalling the human words. "Happy birthday."

I nod and smile in return. I do not allow the other goblins to cook, but Gelda is of a higher caliber, so I allow her to do everything. I notice she has changed her clothes into another simple dress that reminds me of a child's sundress, and she wears one of my aprons. Since her height reaches only my shoulder, the apron is almost too large for her. She has her dark hair tied back—a rarity—as I instructed her to do while cooking.

Gelda insists on choosing my clothes again and fashions my hair with practiced hands.

Her timing is perfect. A knock sounds on the door. Gelda bows swiftly and disappears into the darkness behind the bathroom door. I answer the front door and find what I expect: Alice. I give her a good morning smile, grab my purse, and lock the door behind us.

I have known Alice since we were freshmen in high school. Although we did not at first keep each other company except at school and the occasional birthday party, she is as close to a friend as I have among humanity.

She drives us to the mall. The long walkway connecting the stores is open, but the stores themselves are still closed for another few minutes. We walk and make idle chit chat as we venture closer to Alice's favorite store, in which I know we will spend at least an hour and I will be forced to make at least one purchase.

Eight hours, a plethora of Alice's latest gossip, one unhealthy lunch, one skirt, one pair of shoes, and one sappy romance movie later, we exit the mall.

Alice drags me back to her car and drives to her flat. Her husband Marshall is on the family room floor with their ten-month-old son Davey, playing with silly toys. He looks up at our arrival and nods hello. Marshall took the day off from work to babysit so Alice could treat her friend—me—to a fun-filled birthday.

"Hi, Marshall, Davey," I reply to the former's nodded greeting before letting Alice drag me to their bedroom.

Boxes, bags, and two dress bags cover their bed.

When Alice is done with me, I stare in the mirror. I have an off-white half-mask sitting on my forehead just waiting to be pulled down, the ribbon tied beneath the intricate bun she twisted my hair into. My dress is a shimmering green with a wide neckline, high waist, half-length sleeves, and a hemline just above my knee. Black leggings replace the usual hose and are tucked into gray suede knee-high boots—the same material of the half-palm gloves that replace my usual dark leather.

Alice dresses and we wave goodbye to Marshall, who is readying Davey for bed, and leave their flat. Alice drives us to the unknown—to me—venue. I am a little apprehensive about my reaction. I have never been to a masquerade in the human world. It sounds fun, but I hope it does not bring back memories I would rather recall privately.

As we arrive, Alice instructs me to pull down my mask and I oblige with a carefully contained sigh. The valets open our doors and we exit the vehicle, Alice pulling down her mask and handing her keys over in exchange for ticket 0169.