My stomach churns as I swing through Will's window. After a week of lessons, he has finally succumbed to my endless complaints about their tediousness and has promised that today will be a change of pace.
"Good morning." Will seems relaxed as he walks into the room, placing some salted meat and pieces of fruit on a plate for each of us.
I settle contentedly into my usual seat on the couch, accepting my breakfast when he hands it to me, being careful to chew slowly and carefully in a manner befitting a lady. Will nods his approval and lowers himself into the chair opposite, lifting his bare feet up onto the table between us.
We chew in companionable silence, each adrift in our own thoughts. I take the opportunity to study him, not for the first time noting the strong lines of his face and the pleasing darkness of his hair and brows.
"So." Will swallows the last of his food and puts his plate down on the table. "Are you ready for one of your most important lessons?"
"Definitely." I can only pray that it isn't memorizing more long lists of names.
"Don't look so nervous. I've arranged a surprise for you." A devilish half-smile tugs at his mouth.
"A surprise?" I exaggerate the wariness in my voice as I gather both of our plates and carry them to the kitchen. A knock on the door startles me and the dishes fall from my hands, striking the counter with a clatter.
"Ah, right on time!" Will crosses the room in two long strides while I edge toward the window.
In the weeks we have spent together, I have met a few of his co-conspirators in various taverns, but never once has one of Will's friends come to his flat. I was under the impression that he guards his privacy fiercely.
Will opens the door to reveal a beautiful woman nearly as tall as he is, with pin-straight black hair and wide-set features. He ushers her inside, pulling her into a warm hug as my heart thuds heavily for a beat.
The woman draws back from Will, a happy smile etched across her lovely face. "Hello, Will darling."
"Jules, thank you for coming."
I suddenly feel extremely dirty and unkempt, standing with the pair of them. She, poised in a long blue dress with a white silk scarf draped carelessly yet carefully against her tanned throat. He, the perfect gentlemen and gracious host. I tug on the hem of my worn and faded tunic as I fight to wipe the look of discomfort from my face.
"Kay, this is Jules," Will says, a bit formally while Jules extends her hand toward me.
"I am so pleased to finally meet you." Her eyes light up as I grip her palm, which is cool despite the heat outside.
"Nice to meet you, as well." I use my best courtier voice.
"Jules has kindly agreed to give us a hand today," Will explains, accepting her scarf when she hands it to him.
"Oh? That's great."
Jules chatters rapidly, "Yes, and I have to tell you that I could not be more excited. I mean, you are gorgeous." She kneels down and begins rummaging through a bag I hadn't noticed until now.
I struggle to formulate a response. "What?"
Will laughs at my discomfort and I shoot him a look.
"Your hair is so striking. It is going to compliment this dress perfectly." Jules brandishes a piece of emerald fabric and holds it up against my chest. "Yes, this is divine. Oh my gods, we are going to have so much fun!" she fairly squeals, and I find myself wincing.
"I daresay you are in extremely good hands," Will says from his vantage point, comfortably reclined against a door frame. "My sister is one of the most stylish ladies you are ever likely to meet."
"Your sister." I struggle to make sense of the situation as Jules stuffs the green garment back into her bag and turns back to me, grabbing my hand and pulling me gently toward the window ledge.
She sits me down and begins arranging strands of hair around my face. The familiarity of the contact reminds me of Lara, and my heart hammers heavily in my chest.
"Honestly, your hair is your greatest asset. We are going to work with this. I want to cut it, but don't worry, I won't be taking too much off. We just need to tidy you up and show you some style tricks," Jules twitters ceaselessly as she turns my head this way and that.
"All right." Completely out of my element, I follow her suggestions without argument.
"Will," Jules calls across the room. "Do you really need to be here for this?"
"Fortunately, no. I have some patients to tend to, today." Will straightens and grabs a vest from the hook by the door, shrugging it on over his shoulders before he takes up his satchel and medical case.
"You ladies have fun." He throws me a wink.
I stare helplessly after him while Jules fusses with my hair between her fingers.
"Bye, darling!" Jules doesn't even look over her shoulder as the door slams shut.
"Right," she says, dropping my hair and patting my knee resolutely. "First things first. Let's draw you a bath."
Some time later, my hair dries on my shoulders while I sit on the cold washroom floor. Jules has given me a silk robe to wear and I am worrying the material between my fingers while she prepares a concoction by the sink.
"What is that?" I ask, trying to peer around her.
"Wax," she says lightly.
"Oh." What is that meant for? Must be something to do with candles.
Jules comes to kneel down next to me, a small square of fabric held in her hand. She applies the cloth to the spot above my eyebrow and presses firmly while I flinch from an unexpected heat.
"There is one thing to remember when it comes to maintenance of oneself," she says sombrely.
"What is that?"
All at once she rips the fabric away, tearing my skin painfully. I gasp, my hand flying to my face as surprised tears gather in my eye.
"Beauty is pain. Move your hand, please. We're not through yet."
I fight back the curses pooling in my mouth as she works efficiently, moving from one eyebrow to the other. After an eternity, she declares herself done and I breathe a sigh of relief.
"Oh, thank gods." I make to stand up, my brows feeling aflame.
"No, no. Not just yet. I'm done your face, but we have to clean up some other areas." She has busied herself again with the pot of wax.
"Like what?" I ask slowly, my eyes darting to the open door.
"Underarms, legs," she says indifferently. "And between them."
I clench my thighs together. "Uh uh. No way."
She sighs as she turns to face me. I note that the piece of cloth in her hand is worryingly larger than the one she used on my eyebrows. "It's unpleasant, I know, but we women are strong and can bear it."
"I don't think so." I try to scoot backward, but my back is pressed against the tub. "I've experienced some pain in my time, but I will not willingly submit to this."
"Oh, don't be such a baby." Her usually chipper voice is impatient. "Look, the most prissy noble girl goes through this all the time. Are you saying that you can't handle something that those little princesses can?"
She's got me there.
"Has Will been coaching you on how to get me to go along with things?" I ask.
She giggles as she slaps the fabric down on my shin, a little too gleefully. "He may have given me a few tips. Now, stay still."
The material is ripped away suddenly and the most obscene curse falls from my mouth.
"There we are. Not so bad, is it?"
The next twenty minutes pass as the most painful of my life. The fact that rich girls go through this process willingly serves only to cement my feelings that the whole lot of them are completely mad.
"All done!" Jules' cheerful voice is suddenly the most welcome thing I have ever heard. "All that's left is to make a rug out of what we pulled." She laughs at my horrified expression, offering a hand to pull me to my feet. "I'm kidding. Did you really think I would do that?"
"You just pulled half the hair out of my body; I don't know what you're capable of." I hobble after her toward the main room.
Jules gestures for me to sit on the window ledge and turns to rummage through her bag. I run my hand up and down my leg, marvelling at the oddly pleasant sensation.
Jules approaches with a pair of fine-tipped scissors. She gathers a few strands of my hair at a time and begins snipping away, locks of red curls falling between her feet.
"Your hair really is lovely," she says sociably as I stare out the window at the people crossing below. "Does your mother have hair like this?"
"Yes, she did," I say evenly.
"Oh, I'm sorry. She's gone?"
"Yes."
"That's terrible." She tuts. "Will and I lost our mother as well."
"He told me about that. I'm sorry."
The sound of the scissors ceases abruptly. "He told you?" Surprise laces her voice.
"Yes. Why? Is that strange?"
The snipping resumes. "A little. Will doesn't usually like to talk about our family. He can be very closed off."
"No kidding."
"How did your mother die?" Her question startles me. My shoulders must have stiffened because she stops cutting again and apologizes. "Sorry, that was rude of me. Will always says that I'm too blunt."
"It's fine," I say. "She was killed."
"How awful! I can't even imagine. Were you very young when it happened?"
"I was fourteen." I abruptly change the subject. "How did your mother die?"
"She got sick. It was about... two years ago now? I was only fifteen when it happened. Will was twenty-two." She puts the scissors down and combs through my hair with her fingers, separating it into sections. "The thing of it is, I think she was glad to go. She was a gentle soul saddled with such hardships... her heart just couldn't hold out." She sighs.
"I'm so sorry," I say carefully, completely perplexed about how a courtier's life could be considered difficult. I am brimming with questions about Will's past but am mindful of overstepping my boundaries. Luckily, Jules is happy to chatter away. I suppose there are no secrets between two people who have just shared a leg waxing.
"It was mostly my father's doing. He would bring all sorts of women home, flaunting them right in front of her. Can you imagine? And then there was the way he treated Will. My mother couldn't bear to see it." Jules sighs.
"He was unkind to Will?"
"Unkind is putting it mildly," she scoffs. "He was downright cruel. My brother has always had his own ideas. My mother would say he is spirited, but for my father, Will was a problem."
I try to imagine tall, bristly Will as a young boy. I wouldn't envy anyone the task of trying to curtail his behaviour.
"Will and my father clashed constantly," Jules continues. "I'm sure Will still bears the scars from my father's punishments. They quarrelled over Father's wishes that Will apprentice as a physician, but my brother couldn't have wanted less to do with that idea. As soon as he turned eighteen, he enlisted in the King's guard. That infuriated my father. Will knew it would."
My heart lurches in my chest, thinking of the marks littering Will's back. Imagining something so heinous being inflicted by your own father is a thought that sends shivers through me. It's no wonder the unpleasant courtier is so closed off.
"Poor Will," I murmur.
"Poor Will," she agrees. "Though, that's not to say he was any angel. He was never at home, forever wandering the City with his snobby, idle friends. More than once, I caught my mother dragging him up the stairs. He would reek of booze and opium. Not a pretty sight." She shakes her head. "He straightened out after serving in the guard, but there were some ugly times before."
"He was in the guard?" I ask, my alarm bells ringing.
"Briefly, yes... perhaps a year? I remember he quit somewhat abruptly and signed up for the front, instead. I guess the military was more to his liking because I didn't see him for three years while he was fighting and doctoring in the Wastelands."
Learning that Will once worked as a King's goon is worrisome, but I am even more taken aback at the idea of a courtier willingly signing up for the war. I find myself hanging on Jules' every word, enraptured by her story.
"He returned home when my mother became sick." Jules becomes more subdued. "They were so close, you know? It must have been difficult for him, taking care of her after she had spent all that time tending to him during his late-night benders. He really did everything he could to help her get better.
"It was strange, having Will home again after so long." She sighs. "He was different. I thought that perhaps something drastic had happened to him out in the Wastelands because suddenly, all his priorities had changed and he was less of a loose cannon. He and my father are on civil terms, now. Will trained in medicine during his service and just recently took over my father's job as Palace physician. My father thinks that Will is finally settling into his role, but I know better." Leaning over my shoulder, Jules talks into my ear conspiratorially. "I said to myself, this whole act with Father must be a ruse in order to keep the old man out of his business. That means that Will must be planning something big. So, when Will told me what was really going on and that he had sought you out, I wasn't the least bit surprised!" Her voice rises in triumph and I flinch.
"Right," I hear myself say. I am reeling from the boatload of information. For all the time I have spent with Will, it turns out I barely know him at all.
"I have to say, I think you are really brave for agreeing to go through with this scheme of his." Jules has finished combing my hair and is now twisting the sections around one another, pulling the locks back from my face.
"Thanks." I'm not entirely sure I should take that as a compliment. "I think you are brave for ripping the hair out of your legs on purpose."
Jules laughs and I notice that it sounds remarkably like her brother's. She loops the heavy braid over my shoulder, lashing a knot at the bottom with a thin band.
"There." She moves to stand in front of me and pulls a couple of strands loose from my braid, framing my face. "You look lovely."
I move my hands to stroke the smoothed locks as she pulls a charcoal pen out of her bag.
"We'll keep your makeup simple," she says. "I suspect you don't have a lot of experience wearing it?"
"I... no," I say honestly.
"That's fine. Kohl is simple to use and it's really all you need for those green eyes of yours. Now, close them."
I shut my eyes obediently and she draws lightly around my lash line, using her finger to smudge the colour.
"Can I look?" I ask, opening my eyes.
"Not yet! We need to find an outfit first." She goes back to her bag and draws out the swath of green fabric from earlier. "Here, put this on."
She helps me out of my robe and into the dress, guiding my arms through the lightweight material. The dress folds in layers but feels incredibly breezy. I revel in the feeling of the soft cloth brushing against my newly bare legs.
Jules stands back as I fuss with the fabric, unable to stop fidgeting.
"All right, you can look now." She grabs my hand and pulls me toward Will's bedroom, spinning me around to face a mirror leaning up against the wall. "What do you think?"
I barely hear her, so dumbfounded by the sight of a stranger staring back at me. The bright colour of the dress is striking; the quality of the material a world's difference from my patched tunics. Its long skirt pools around my feet and the straps dip into a V shape, gathering in an empire waist and complimenting my modest cleavage. My hair appears lush and healthy, draped over my shoulder in a thick braid, and the kohl lining my eyes makes me appear at once sultry and mysterious.
"I look... different," I say, finally.
Jules laughs and playfully swats at my hands as I tug on the neck of the dress, attempting to cover myself.
"You were always stunning," she says sincerely, gently tugging my shoulders back so that I stand up straight. "The clothes and makeup are just ornamentation." Her reflection shoots me a wink and then she sweeps from the room.
I allow myself to linger for a few moments longer before following her out.
I find her hovering over the low table, fussing with an unfamiliar wooden box. She winds a key hidden underneath it and the lid pops open, allowing a tinkling melody to escape.
"A music box," she explains, catching sight of my puzzled expression. "It was my mother's." She begins to sway from side to side, in tune with the music. "Have you danced before?"
"Yes, of course," I say, a bit defensively, thinking back to rowdy nights spent at the Beacon with Harry, Lara and Edmun.
"Then this should be quite easy for you to pick up."
I help Jules drag the chair and table to the side of the room. Once we've cleared some space she spreads her arms, inviting me forward.
"Here, I'll lead."
I chuckle as I step up to her, lacing my fingers with hers. She directs my free hand to her shoulder and grips my waist. "And one, two, three..."
We spin around the room in time to the music. I stumble repeatedly on the hem of my dress, each time releasing a crude curse. Jules winces when I tread on her foot.
"Sorry, sorry!" I step back, letting go of her to readjust my skirt, grimacing in frustration. I hear a key turn in the door behind me as I fuss with the folds of fabric.
"Oh, thank the gods. I don't think my poor feet could take much more abuse. Will, come over here." Jules grabs my shoulders and spins me around to face him.
His reaction causes heat to gather in my cheeks. Will remains frozen by the door, his brows raised as he takes in my appearance. I fiddle self-consciously with my braid, willing the blush away from my face.
"Well, I'll be damned." He grins, rubbing his hand over the stubble on his chin. "Kay, you look beautiful."
"Thanks." I give a small shrug and raise my chin in an effort to appear more confident than I feel.
"I'm trying to teach her to dance, but we're having some trouble." Jules picks up the music box and winds the key again, resetting the tune. "Would you mind...?"
"Certainly."
He sets his satchel down by the door and crosses the room in two long strides. Within the space of a few moments he has expertly lifted my arms into position, his palm engulfing my own while my other hand rests on his broad shoulder. I glance up at him, trying to ignore the sudden sensation of warmth at my waist.
"Kay, don't look down. Let him lead. And one, two..." Jules counts us off, clapping her hands.
I concentrate fiercely as I step in time with Will's movements, falling into a natural synchronicity. Will is firm but gentle as he guides me across the small space. I stumble once or twice, but each time he holds me securely, helping me right myself when I falter. By the time the music box's trilling melody has wound itself down, we are twirling together in perfect rhythm.
"Much better!" Jules' voice breaks through my thoughts and I drop my hand from Will's grip. I take a step back, forcing myself free of the spell woven by the music.
He blinks, watching me with a furrowed brow before he gives me a small, approving nod and turns to disappear into the kitchen. I glance at Jules but she has already moved back to the music box; she snaps the lid shut and places it back into her bag, humming a little to herself. I stand awkwardly, smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles in my expensive gown, and look up when Will returns.
"So," I say, forcing some ladylike haughtiness into my tone. "Am I finally ready? Are you going to arrange for my interview at the Palace?"
Will looks up from where he's busied himself setting plates and silverware at the rickety table. "I don't think so, Kay. You look the part, but there's still a lot I have to teach you."
Annoyance prickles my nerves. "More names and manners? Don't you trust that I have enough sense to figure it out once I get there?"
He meets my gaze head on, unwavering. "It isn't a matter of trust. The Court is a dangerous place and we're only going to get one shot at it; I want to prepare you as much as possible."
Behind me, Jules has ceased her humming and has gone quiet as a mouse.
I grit my teeth, and when I speak, my voice is low. "We shouldn't waste time."
"We shouldn't waste this opportunity." Will is infuriatingly calm. "Patience, Kay—you're making amazing progress, but we don't want to get ahead of ourselves. We'll have Jules come back a few more times to help you with your clothes and makeup, and I'll fill in the gaps about Palace customs. When it comes time for your interview, you'll ace it."
I inhale through my nose, drawing my shoulders back the way Jules taught me. I just have to last a few more days, put up with a few more tedious lessons, and then I can get back to what really matters: helping the commoners. Once I get into the Palace I'll be able to make a real difference.
Patience, Kay. Focus on the bigger picture.
"You had best change out of that dress," Will continues. "I'm going to get us all some dinner and I know how the crumbs fly when it comes to you." He nudges me lightly on his way back to the kitchen.
"Come now," I say in mock offence. "When I am dressed as a lady, I eat as a lady."
That half-grin. "You will have ample opportunity to eat as a lady once we get to the Palace. Tonight, I want to share a meal with Kay."