1928 ✓

02 - odd

Leslie took out a cream blush, tapping it onto Rose's cheeks with her finger. She did everything wrong, Rose thought. Why would you put a cream blush onto such a dusty powder?

She was shocked when she noticed the blush's colour. A bright pink. All over her cheeks, like a circle. She fought the urge to swipe everything away with the back of her hand. Watching Leslie put out some green-blue rub-on eyeshadow, she rolled her eyes not being able to hold back a remark anymore, "Do you want me to look like a clown? Don't you have something more neutral?"

"Neutral?" Leslie asked, baffled. "But these are your favourite colours!"

Rose huffed. What bold taste did Esmé have? First the corset under her and now this overly done makeup. What a muck.

"But-" She groaned, "The blusher is funny enough already. And now, you're going to pair it with a blue shadow? A blue this bright?!" She pointed at the colours in front of her, trying to demonstrate that this was not a match.

"Blusher?"

"Yes!" She now pointed at her face, circling her cheeks with her fingers. "All this blush."

"You mean rouge?"

Rose was about to palm her forehead, but she knew that everything would stick onto her now sweaty hand, ruining her face even more, so she didn't. She examined her make-up in the mirror. I look like a fudging doll. A doll that belonged into the 20s. Perfectly done but she hated it. 

Rose noticed Leslie getting progressively frustrated with her. She decided to give up, whining and shutting her eyes tightly.

"Fine!" She threw her hands up dramatically. "Do whatever you want!"

Leslie hesitated. But seeing the time on the wall, she hurried. Rose avoided her reflection in the mirror, not wanting to spot anything else to argue about as she began studying the table in front of her instead.

Everything had to be expensive. The perfume bottles looked like they were luxurious pieces. She reached to grab one, a flower shaped yellow bottle with a green pump, smelling the tip. It was jasmine.

Leslie had finished when Rose sprayed some of the perfume on her neck. She caught Leslie staring with a slight smile. Rose cleared her throat, putting the bottle back on its place.

"That's yours, my Lady. Use it however you like."

"Whatever." Rose checked her face. It was indeed a typical 20s makeup look like she had seen in magazines. Leslie had tried to keep it natural, it seemed.

"Ok," She stood up, turning to face Leslie. "What exactly is going to happen now?"

"The Colonel had been away for a few weeks. He returned home and he wants to have dinner with you." Leslie explained. "A few of his business partners are visiting, too."

Great. Rose couldn't have been luckier. She didn't even know the world she had stranded on. Then this. She nodded, sighing. She felt defeated. Didn't she have to fight back?

But what would it happen, if she refused to follow? Of course, she would attract attention.

But she couldn't. Obviously, she was here for some reason. Rose had decided. She'd find out.

"I'll stick around you, my Lady." Rose nodded nervously.

Then Leslie opened the door, leading Rose out. A long corridor with different paintings hanging on the walls. Some had landscapes on it. Some portraited people. One, Rose recognized. It was a photo of Alder Benson with Esmé to his right and a younger boy to his left.