I managed to survive the night without any interference from Sabine. My hair was the same length, my clothes were intact, and my face was free from vulgar marker scrawling. I guess Sabine, petty as she was, would not stoop that low. Either that or she had something heinous for me in store later.
The interviews would be taking the course of two days. The fifty girls were split in half, each group going on a separate day. Mine was scheduled for day two. Much to my chagrin, so was Sabine's. While was glad I didn't have to face the king just yet, but I was hoping hers would be before mine so she could stay out of my hair.
Mercifully, she decided to do that on her own. She avoided going to our hotel room, so I hid in there all day like a coward. Boy, I sure couldn't wait to tell the king that little tidbit in our interview. It wouldn't even be the most embarrassing thing we'd talk about.
I passed the hours reading. By nighttime I had managed to finish both of the books I brought, so I daydreamed about how nice my life would be if this dreadful competition never happened. And wishing I had the foresight to bring more books. How was I supposed to know I would make it past the first round?
I tried turning on the TV from which Melanie announced our first challenge, but all I got was static. I wasn't allowed to bring a phone with me, which was understandable. The king didn't want us blabbing about the competition to family and friends back home. But no TV? How were the lazy and antisocial supposed to entertain themselves?
That left me with few options except for sleep, so sleep I did. When the alarm rang the next morning, I shot out of bed eagerly. It was interview time, and I was so bored from the previous day that I actually looked forward to it.
Sabine had not spoken to me or acknowledged my presence in any way, which made me anxious. We both got ready in silence and slunk off to have breakfast.
After breakfast was over, we were each given a tablet with an extensive catalogue of fancy dresses, shoes, and jewelry. Our assignment until lunch time was to choose what to wear to our interview. The other girls perused the catalogue with delight. I groaned inwardly at the idea of having to pick out a dress myself. The catalogue was massive and I knew next to nothing about fashion.
The dress I picked was floor length and made of light blue silk. I chose a pair of simple white heels, but opted to spoil myself with a pair of diamond earrings and a matching necklace. A nagging voice in the back of my head chastised me for playing along with the competition, but I silenced it. When else would I get the chance to wear diamonds?
After lunch the other twenty four contestants and I found ourselves back in the basement with Michael Kent — our director, and the styling team. I was sure they'd get to breathe easier since they were only styling twenty five girls today and not 100 like last time.
Dresses in every color hung on racks around the floor. I spotted my pick right as I was escorted to a makeup chair. A lean man with a goatee and piercings smiled at me and offered me his hand to shake.
"My name is Pablo and I will be doing your makeup today. Just tell me what you have in mind and I will do my best to recreate it," he said, his voice enthusiastic.
"I uh, kind of want to keep things light and simple. Maybe match my dress?" I said, hoping that was helpful.
He tapped his chin with the end of a makeup brush, his eyes scrutinizing my face. "I can do that."
"Get her dress ready!" came the voice of Michael Kent from behind me. I watched as a short, dark haired girl with glasses looked into Michael's tablet and scurried off in the direction of the dress racks.
I closed my eyes and let Pablo paint my face. Nobody had ever done my makeup back home and I still wasn't used to the sensation of brushes and pencils prodding around my eyelids.
A tall woman with a sharply cut red bob approached me as Pablo was applying gloss to my lips.
"What are you thinking of in terms of hair, dear?" she asked. Her voice had a slight accent I didn't recognize.
I shrugged. "Just down, but make it look nice I guess."
The hair stylist did not look satisfied with my answer, but she went to work with her flat iron once Pablo was finished with my makeup. After she finished, the bespectacled girl from earlier escorted me into a curtained stall to help me change into my dress. I slid myself into the silky garment and put on the shoes. The pair I picked had a much shorter heel than the shoes I had to wear to the last challenge, so I didn't have to worry about tripping. Once I completed the ensemble with diamond jewelry, I stood in front of a full length mirror and examined myself.
I looked good. It was a casual, understated kind of good, but good nonetheless. If I was more daring, I'd even call myself beautiful. Rowan would definitely call me that. He wouldn't even care about the dress or the jewelry. He loved me for who I was... Until he didn't, I realized with a pang in my chest. He'd never call me beautiful again.
"Miss Crawford, your interview begins in five minutes," Michael Kent said softly. I didn't even notice him appear beside me. I nodded, smoothing the folds of my dress. He patted me on the shoulder and left.
I turned around and caught Sabine watching me from across the room, her expression unreadable. As much as she annoyed me, she looked stunning. She wore a strapless red dress and her hair was done up in a loose chignon. Gold and onyx jewelry hung from her ears and neck, complimenting her lightly tanned skin tone. She took a sip of coffee from a mug and narrowed her eyes at me. She must have done her interview already.
I glanced around the room and saw a girl with light red hair sitting in a makeup chair. I recognized her from the limo ride from the airport to the hotel but couldn't recall her name. I remembered seeing her leave for her interview while I was getting my makeup done. I strode up to her and gave a nervous wave.
"Did you do your interview already?" I asked.
The girl nodded.
"So, what kind of questions did he ask you?" I figured it couldn't hurt to be prepared.
The girl shrugged. "He asked me about myself, why I want to be queen, and why I should win."
All questions I could have guessed myself. Disappointed, I thanked the girl and left.
Predictable as they were, I had no idea how to answer those questions. Nothing about me was remarkable, I didn't want to be queen, and there was no conceivable reason I should be in the competition let alone win it. Maybe I should just be honest. Bring my lack of qualifications to the king's attention so he'd send me home. Something told me it wouldn't be that easy.
I was pacing back and forth in front of the mirror when I heard the slow clicking of heels against the basement floor. I turned to see Sabine, one arm crossed over her chest and the other holding her mug of coffee. She looked me up and down.
"Not bad. For you, at least. I like your dress," she said nonchalantly.
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Sabine was complimenting me? This had to be some kind of trick.
"Thanks, I guess," I stammered, eying her warily.
"Your necklace looks nice, let me see it," she said. I put a hand over it protectively.
Sabine strode forward purposefully, reaching her hand out. Suddenly, she stumbled and I felt something splash across my lap. I looked down to see a giant coffee stain over the front of my dress.
"Miss Crawford, you're on in one minute," I heard Michael call out.
I was frozen in place, looking murderously at Sabine. The other girl slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes widening as she took in the damage to my dress.
"You did that on purpose!" I growled. Of course she did. It wasn't like her to pay me compliments. She was only trying to sabotage me.
An attendant saw us and nearly jumped. She ran over to Michael Kent and pointed to me. The director rubbed his temples and sighed heavily.
"Mina Carter, you're up next!" he called out. Across the room a girl in a floor length orange gown stood up, her mouth agape. The director waved his arms in the direction of the door. Mina hiked up her dress and scurried out of the room.
"See if you can find her a new dress," Michael said to the attendant. She nodded her head and rushed over towards me.
"I am so sorry," Sabine crooned when the attendant reached us. "Please, let my father know. I'm sure he'll be happy to cover the damages."
Sabine was willing to throw money away just to humiliate me? God, she was more evil than I thought.
The attendant, whose name tag said Rory, ignored her and led me to one of the changing stalls. She flagged down one of the styling assistants and hastily explained the situation to her. I watched from behind the curtains as the tall, blond girl's eyes widened and she ran off in the direction of the dress racks, whispering indistinctly into her earpiece. Rory turned back and entered the stall.
She helped me out of the dress. I felt oddly self conscious with a stranger seeing me in nothing but my underwear, but Rory wasn't paying attention. She put a finger to her earpiece and listened, brows furrowed. After a minute, she sighed.
"Just bring whatever you can find," she said, rubbing her temples.
A breath later the blond girl, whose name tag labeled her as Aimee, showed up with three dresses in tow. The first was a deep green color that didn't look like it would fit. It had a translucent shawl and seemed far too formal for the casual hair and makeup I had on. The second was black with a plunging neckline that was far more risqué than I was ever willing to wear. The third was pink, lacy, and looked more like lingerie than a dress.
"This is all that was left," Aimee said apologetically.
Rory sighed and turned to me. "It's up to you to decide."
I frowned and looked down at my ruined gown. What a shame to waste such a pretty garment. Damn Sabine.
"I'll go with the green I guess. I don't think it's my size though," I said.
"We can adjust it! With pins!" Aimee squeaked. She gave the green dress to Rory and ran off, presumably in the search of pins.
Rory took in the dress with a miserable expression on her face. "It's really not your color. You're going to look so pale. But who knows, maybe the king likes that."
***
The dress didn't look half bad once properly pinned together. However, Rory was right about it washing out my skin. Dark colors clearly weren't a good match for my pale skin and straw-colored hair. The comment about the king possibly liking my pallor unnerved me and I hoped for the opposite. I wanted to leave as little of an impression on him as possible, though I feared it was already too late.
Aimee led me by the arm toward Michael. He turned around and glanced up and down at my new dress, a frown forming on his face.
"Not the best, but it'll have to do. You're on in three minutes," he drawled.
Aimee patted my shoulder and smiled, then walked away. I took a deep calming breath as I waited. Michael wandered off, eyes on his watch and hand on his earpiece.
I heard the familiar slow, deliberate clicking of heels against the concrete. My fists clenched as I turned to see Sabine. She circled me, eyeing my new dress.
"That dress doesn't suit you at all," she sniggered, crossing her arms. "Or anyone, really."
"Haven't you done enough today?" I said through gritted teeth.
She gave a short, derisive laugh. "I should hope so."
I narrowed my eyes at her. "What is your problem?"
"My problem?" she began, pacing around me. "My problem is you're here when you clearly don't deserve to be."
I met her steely gaze. "Funny. That's not exactly your decision. I was chosen for the competition like everyone else. The king clearly saw something in me, or else he wouldn't have asked me to stick around for round two." I had no idea why I was using the king as ammunition, given that I wanted nothing to do with him. The need to knock Sabine down a peg was just too great.
"Please. You haven't even had your interview yet," she said, rolling her eyes.
I frowned. "So if you're so confident I'll screw up my interview, why are you trying so hard to sabotage me?"
Sabine looked down at her long black nails. "You think that was me trying?"
I didn't think it was possible to hate anyone more, but she was testing my limits with every word out of her mouth.
"Answer my question," I demanded.
Sabine regarded me with disinterest. "I will be queen. And I will do whatever it takes to ensure that happens," she said.
I raised an eyebrow. "So did you just admit you see me as your biggest competition?"
She threw her head back and laughed. "Oh, that's adorable! You wish." She gave me a condescending smile and walked away.
In that moment, I wished I could win just to crush her. Just to see her face as all of her hopes and dreams were shattered. All of her efforts to torment me rendered worthless. It was almost enough to make me want to stay and face the king. Almost.