She sat frozen in bed, an echo of a kiss haunting her lips. What was that?
"Happy New Year, Mrs. Thorne." He kissed her hand, the shiny new ring glittering..."
Just as the image began to fade from her mind, the door to her room shuddered open. If possible, Cress felt herself stiffen even more.
Her mother scowled in disgust as the glow from the hallway illuminated Cress's thin figure, huddled under the covers.
"You complete imbecile. Now your gown is wrinkled, how are we supposed to parade you around tonight looking like that?" Mrs. LeCourtier's lips curled as she stepped further into the area, headed for the wardrobe hastily packed to the brim with the latest fashions.
"Hello to you too Mother." Cress muttered under her breath.
Richard was already lighting another cigar furiously, his hands shaking as his face grew fiery. Cress lowered her head submissively and stood, ready to go along with whatever was coming to her.
"This will have to do for now." Mrs. LeCourtier said, holding up a glittering black gown and a dark bustle in the back. Cress's eyes widened as she took it all in, then slowly started to shake her head.
"Shut it." Richard hissed threw his cigar.
"Mother, I'll fall out of it." Silence echoed through the room as they all realized she was speaking the truth. The girl was close to skeleton-like, it would be a feat of magic to get her to appear healthy at the event tonight.
Richard sighed tiredly and turned to the lit fireplace, flapping the newspaper back up around his face as her mother untied the strings of her corset.
She turned her mind away from the pain as she was pinched, prodded, and stuffed into the thick crystal-studded evening gown. When her mother discovered that Cress had been right, as the dress slipped off her shoulders, when they had to sew the back up further to push the sleeves further up, when they poked her cheeks to make them appear full, she was away.
Moments like these were her only escape from the burden that was living. These were the moments where she could go back to the crowded, filthy streets of Brooklyn and still somehow feel that she belonged, that she was home. The second her eyes fluttered closed she could taste the smokey ash in the air, hear the hundreds of people's voices resounding around her as she walked, her shoes clicking against weathered cobblestone streets. She could feel her heart pounding with anticipation as she entered the bed and breakfast, past a cheerful Scarlet and wary Wolfe, past Ben and the newsboys, past the smells sneaking up from the kitchen, up the rickety staircase, past the blurry window that overlooked the fire escape she'd once been stolen from, and finally, into her room.
Their room.
It was the same as it had always been, a bit too small, a bit too dusty, a bit too painful to look at. But cozy and comfortable all the same. Back in the real world, she bit her lip and scrunched her eyes tighter closed as her soul crept up onto the bed, wrapped itself in the ragged blanket, and stared at the stars dusting the skyline of New York.
A gasp fled her mouth as her mother cinched the sash around her waist one knot too tight, and Cress had to grip the bed rail to keep from passing out.
"I almost forgot about those." Her mother said, motioning to Cress's scarred hands. Cress had forgotten also, and couldn't remember the last time she had thought about them. Even with Thorne around, she hadn't felt self-conscious. It gave her another mystery to think blankly about while she was shoved into long black gloves, velvet and warm. At least they'd keep her from turning blue.
Her parents left her be after she'd finished transforming into a deception, and she was free to slump back in bed. Now that the lamps were lit, she could actually observe her prison for the first time. There was no point, of course. She'd only be there for another ten hours at best, but it gave her something to do while her parents finished getting primped.
There was a large armoire at the opposite end of her room, practically empty as her parents hadn't bothered to pack for her. To its right, a small sitting chair facing the window, half covered with large plum colored drapes. Feeling a hint of curiosity, Cress sat up and edged towards the glass, squinting as the flame inside made it difficult to see what lay beyond.
She could make out party tents surrounding a massive fountain. On top was a stone sculpture of a boy, standing tall and proud, a sword in his hand. A prince.
For a moment Cress wished she could go back to who she'd always been, a naive child waiting for someone like that statue to rescue her. But it was nothing but a piece of rock, and she was nothing like what she had once been. And none of that mattered now. She was almost done.
A tentative frown slipped across her mouth as the drapes fell from her hand, once again hiding the view. She was about to go back to her bed when a note on the armoire caught her eye.
Cress picked it up hesitantly, ignoring the way her hands shook. It was truly pathetic, how weak they'd made her, without even trying.
It has been certified that this room is cleaned regularly every day at your convenience, whenever is preferable to you. Satisfaction in cleanliness guaranteed.
Her chest began to pound as she dropped the note, a brilliant idea already forming in her weary mind. How had she not considered it before? There was still a way to get out of this. SHe could escape. So long as she got someone else involved, they might not be able to come after her any more.
Mind racing, she stumbled to the desk to the let of her bed and began to search for something, anything, to write on. It was almost easy to ignore the blinding pain in her ankle now. Cress whirled around, wildly checking the room for---
There!
Cress yanked open the nightstand drawer, accidently shaking it so much that the lamp rattled off and fell onto the bed. She jumped, automatically covering her mouth to hide the squeak of alarm. If they walked in now, it would all be over.
"Quiet down in there!" Madam LeCourtier hissed. Cress didn't want to risk her voice giving it away, so she grabbed the Bible from the drawer as quickly as possible and sat back down at the desk, uncapping the ballpoint pen. The last letter she'd written flashed through her mind, and she had to take a calming breath before starting to write on the first blank page.
I'm being kept here against my will. Please, whoever is reading this, know that if you find this tomorrow, I will be dead. If so, then no need to concern yourself with my problems. But if you find this tonight, then I beg you, find help. I'm the girl with the limp and short hair, really impossible to miss. You're my last resort. If no one finds this, if no one tries to understand, I will die. Please help me escape them.
Cress LeCourtier
She dropped the pen as soon as she'd finished, tore out the front page, prayed that she wouldn't be punished for harming the Holy Writ, then hobbled back to the armoire and placed the letter dead center in the cupboard, somewhere she was certain a maid was bound to check.
A rattle of the doorknob shook her out of her prayer, and she quickly shut the doors and scurried back to her position near the bed, gently pushing the drawer back into place just as the door opened.
"It's time, have you gotten any of your strength back?" Richard asked, his hand braced against the doorway. They both already knew the answer, but Cress shook her head anyways. He shrugged and turned away, expecting her to follow. Which she did.
The lobby was packed with people dressed to the nines in expensive clothes that all looked the same, but it couldn't have been a more perfect situation to get into. They fit in completely, and entered the crowd with ease. Thank goodness for the holiday. As her parents ordered another coach to take them to the town hall, where the opening ceremonies took place, she slipped away from behind them and limped up to the front desk.
"Ma'am, are you quite alright?" The concierge asked, her eyebrows furrowing worriedly. Cress managed a reassuring smile that didn't convince the woman at all.
"Fine, yes, fine. Um, I believe our rooms haven't been attended too today." She said, pausing to bite her lip as the woman checked her logbook.
"I'm afraid you're mistaken, miss. All rooms have been signed off on already this afternoon."
"I apologize, but we really need another cleaning check. Please." Cress braced her arms against the counter, exhausted from the effort to stay upright. Her foot ached unbearably, but she had to make it through this. It was her last chance.
The concierge was beginning to look annoyed now, concern leaving her expression permanently.
"Ma'am, I can assure you that we hold our rooms to the highest standards. Unless there's something spilled or---"
"Yes! Yes that's it!" Cress flushed in shame. She was really losing her touch. Why hadn't she thought of that excuse earlier?! Now they'd be suspicious, she was already taking up too much time. "I really need to have something looked at, in my room specifically." She stressed the last few syllables, then thanked her before turning to locate the captors.
It was by nothing short of a miracle that her parents were already outside, waiting for the coach to arrive. They barely noticed her slip in between them as they entered the tiny compartment. She breathed out a silent sigh of relief that she hadn't been caught in the act, her thoughts now turning to how she was going to survive a party.
Parties involved walking and mingling and sipping drinks that made you woozy. Parties made you forget what you were trying to accomplish in the first place. Parties had a bad tendency to get out of hand, and force people dance.
Who was she kidding? She had no chance.
Thorne-
It was a lot easier than you might think to steal a suit from someone. To Thorne, it was like reliving the glory days, except that the glory days were just as bad as the ones he was living now. He straightened the pearly black tie for the fifth time in front of the mirror, trying to straighten his nerves along with it.
Nothing about this would be simple. If he was able to find her in the crowd, he'd have to figure out how to approach her. If that happened, he'd have to find a way to pull her away from her parents without anyone erupting into chaos. And if the impossible happened, he'd have to find a way to explain to her...well. Everything.
He sighed and ran a stiff hand through his hair, profusely messing it up before whirling around and beginning to pace. Jacin caught him mid stride as he left the bathroom they were sharing.
"Relax Thorne. The hard part is already over." He said, wiping his clean shaven face against a thin towel. He was dressed in an almost identical suit, excepting the fact that his wasn't stolen. Small details, really.
Thorne scoffed, throwing his hands up in the air.
"You call that the hard part?!"
"Well yeah. They are the most difficult people to con that I've ever met. It's a bit of a miracle we pulled it off. Now that that's over, we can relax. It's going to be fine."
Thorne fell back onto the bed, his hands cradling his head.
"You have no idea what Cress is like, Jacin. The last time I saw her, in the cold...Jacin, she knows she's going to die. She's accepted it, I saw the way she looked---" He cut himself off, yanking his hands through his golden hair once more, harder this time.
"Thorne, calm down. This isn't helping anyone, and we both know it." Jacin sat down next to him, throwing the towel off to the side. "If you're right, and she does know she's going to die, won't it seem like the better option to run away with you? If anything, this could make it even..."
"Don't you dare say it."
"...Easier." Jacin finished, and Thorne could practically hear his smirk. He kept his eyes closed, covering them with his hands once more.
"She won't listen to me. I've hurt her too much."
"She's still sane. She'll be reasonable if she knows you have a plan to help her get out. In the end, none of us are really ever ready to die. Just help her realize that, and everything will turn out fine. Thorne," He glanced up, meeting his old friend's eyes. "I promise you. We're gonna get her back." He nodded, then stood up.
"Let's go rescue a damsel in distress."
The opening ceremonies banquet hall was already filled to the brim by the time they arrived on horseback. Thorne had to pause for just a moment to take it all in. Beneath a massive crystal chandelier, a glittering sea of ladies and gentlemen were having the time of their lives gossiping, eating, blushing, smirking, flirting, holding, laughing, and dancing. He was certain he'd never seen so many colors together at once. Off to one side, a feast was laid out on a narrow table, an already half-empty punch bowl sitting in the center. Despite a few wallflowers hanging in the shadows, almost everyone was on the ballroom floor, waiting for the orchestra to begin another tune. The second a few violin notes filled the air, glasses were set down, dresses were straightened, and the game began.
Amidst the whirling masses of contained chaos it should be slightly less complicated to pull her away from the crowd. He was about to go looking for her alone when Jacin caught him around the arm.
"Not yet, you're too easily spotted. We need to wait until we can view the whole crowd at once, like from a balcony."
"So when the fireworks start?" Thorne asked, anxious to have a set plan. Jacin nodded, then slipped into the shadows to wait out the night. Thorne followed close behind, secretly hoping to find her before midnight anyways.
A conman can dream, right?
Lillian-
"Lillian, could you come here a moment?" Ruth asked, calling from over the top of the front desk. Lillian straightened, a frown already settling over her. What was it now? She was supposed to have finished her shift an hour ago.
She stood and walked over to her fellow worker, retying her apron strings out of habit.
"Is something the matter?"
"A bit, yes. I had the most peculiar thing just a minute ago...a young girl came and asked if we might clean her rooms again." Lillian tilted her head to the side and smirked a little.
"Forgive me, Ruth, if I don't see the oddity here. The kinds of people that come here are known to be picky."
"Lillian, the girl was limping. Her parents are obviously rich to afford a place like this, wouldn't they have gotten her a doctor by now? And what high society young women would ever have a way to harm her foot? For goodness sake, most of them sit around all day! It just doesn't add up." Ruth's eyes widened the longer she spoke, her voice hushed and excited. Lillian laughed, tightening her apron once again.
"I think you've been reading one to many gothic novels, sweetheart. Now, if you don't need me, I'll be," She paused when she saw Ruth's expression. "Oh what is it now? You can't possibly think there's something going on."
"You don't find it a bit strange? A girl and her parents show up for one night in a town in the middle of nowhere, not even planning on coming to the ball? Why were they here?"
"It's holiday season, this could simply be a stop on the way. Come on, I think you need a breath of fresh air. It's a beautiful night. Enjoy the fact that we actually get some peace, don't go trying to solve something that isn't there."
Ruth humphed and turned back to the cash register, closing her logbook with a thump.
"Well, either way, the rest of the staff left early to attend the festivities, so you're all I've got left. Clean the rooms and you'll be done."
Lillian scowled, grabbed the room key, then sauntered up the stairs, ignoring the glare she was sure Ruth was sending over her shoulder.
She chewed on her lip as the key struggled to fit into the lock, more bored than she'd ever been. When finally the door eased open, the room looked...
Completely ordinary. Her scowl deepened as she glanced about the room, her hands resting on her hips.
"You've got to be kidding me." She whispered to herself. The area was pristine, everything neat and orderly. Lillian growled under her breath and moved on to the next room, shoving the door open with a bang. Why was she wasting her time? There wasn't anything wrong but a girl with delusions.
The next room was slightly messier, the bedsheets rumbled and the desk obviously moved around during their stay. She moved to the other end of the room, turning around, and finally picking up the lamp to see better.
Sure enough, there wasn't a single stain or mark littering the floor. Nothing.
She set the lamp down with a clang, then sat on the chair in exhaustion. Might as well pass the time up here, or Ruth wouldn't believe that she'd actually cleaned the place. She looked around trying to picture the young girl her friend had described.
An image of the blonde, doe-eyed girl at her serving table flashed through her head. It was the only person she'd seen around the hotel that matched the description. She had seemed sort of sick, and definitely too skinny. Lillian sat up and looked around the room once more, her eyes finally landing on the armoire. She shrugged and walked over to it.
Maybe the girl had something worth trying on, while she was up here wasting time already.
But it was empty. Not single dress, not a speck of dust. Except...
Her eyes drifted down to a slightly bent piece of thin paper.
I'm being kept here against my will. Please, whoever is reading this, know that if you find this tomorrow, I will be dead. If so, then no need to concern yourself with my problems. But if you find this tonight, then I beg you, find help. I'm the girl with the limp and short hair, really impossible to miss. You're my last resort. If no one finds this, if no one tries to understand, I will die. Please help me escape them.
Cress LeCourtier
Lillian felt her breath hitch as she skimmed the page, her heart quickening. Ruth had been right. For once, Ruth had actually been right. As if in a daze, she stumbled out of the room and into the hallway.
"RUTH!!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, the gravity of the situation suddenly sinking in. A girl was about to be murdered, and she was the only one who knew.
Within a minute, her friend was standing next to her, panting furiously.
"W-wha-t-t is it? What'samatta?" She slurred, not able to catch her breath. Lillian shoved the note in her face with shaking fingers, unable to move her mouth any more. She watched as Ruth went pale, then began to echo her scream.
They only had a few hours to figure out how to save a girl they barely knew.