Dancing with Deception

Dancing with Deception (5)

At long last, a new chapter. Thank you all for waiting, and thanks especially to those who nagged me to keep writing. 

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Cheers,

xo.

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Chapter 5 – Enemies and Allies

The clothes were itchy. 

Bad enough I was dressed shamefully as a man; I also had to endure the pinpricks of material scratching against my smooth skin with every movement. They may as well have made the garment from tree branches for all the comfort they provided. 

The leather boots were hardly better; they were stiff and not yet broken in, rubbing against my heels with every step and were not nearly so flattering as the slippers I was used to.

I looked across the room, where the common girl stood at seeming ease in the practice clothes provided, while her fingers deftly twisted her hair into a tight knot at the back of her head. 

Feeling my gaze on her she looked up through lowered lashes and cleared her throat, all the same her voice came out a near whisper. 

“Would you like me to show you the way to the practice courts?”

I scoffed, turning away to pick up the brush from my night table.

“Don’t be absurd,” I said loftily, watching her from the corner of my eye. She was the last sort of escort I needed to make my first impression.

A blush filled her cheeks before she positively fled out the door. 

Grabbing a length of twine I tried to replicate the style of hair worn by her. While I loathed having to look like a commoner I thought it in my best interests to fit in with the locals until I had a better measure of the circumstances.

I felt disoriented, as if a game I had played my whole life had been changed mid-play and the rules were foreign. And for the first time, I was without my mother’s influence, a thought that both terrified and thrilled me. 

I managed some semblance of the shape after my third try and studied my reflection in the small looking glass I had brought with me from home. I couldn’t stand the sight for more than a few moments. 

My pale skin seemed to have lost it’s usual glow and instead looked almost sickly, my eyes were heavy from a short restless sleep, the rough twine in my hair was a far cry from the colored ribbons I was used to, and the tunic shirt hung loose and unflattering against my body. In short, I was in no condition to receive my Prince.

For a moment I felt the staggering loss of an advantage I had never doubted, that of my appearance. Presentation, after all, counted for over half of a first impression, and I had never before needed to compensate.