Page 10 of The Midnight King

“Someone like me?” He cocks his head.

“A man—a male—who is very—”Beautiful, my mind whispers, but I refuse to say it aloud. “Someone who looks like you.”

“I can change the way I look.” His form ripples slightly as if I’m seeing it through water, and suddenly he’s a plump, pleasant-looking woman with gray hair and lavender eyes. “How’s this?”

“What did you…howdid you…” I can’t formulate a coherent sentence—I’m too stupefied.

“It’s a glamour. I’m rather good at them.” He transforms into a gawky-looking man with spectacles, then into a busty, beautiful woman with raven-black hair. “Any requests?”

“Just yourself will be fine.” I’m tempted to ask for the grandmother glamour, since that form does feel less threatening—but I’d rather see him exactly as he is and remember who I’m dealing with.

He reverts to his sparkly purple self and relaxes again, spreading his arms along the back of the sofa.

Drawing a deep breath, I take off my shoes and stockings. Then I pull the dress I’m wearing over my head and lay it aside. Underneath I’m wearing a castoff pair of Amisa’s panties, made of soft cotton and lace, but worn nearly threadbare. My bustier is so old that its cups barely support my breasts anymore. I give it aself-conscious tug upward and force myself to meet the Faerie’s eyes.

There’s pity in his gaze, along with calculated interest as he rises and paces around me, inspecting my body from all sides. I know he’s seeing my scars too—marks of all the times I was forced to punish myself. But he doesn’t mention them.

“You must have new undergarments, that’s for certain,” he says. “Yes, yes… I think I know just the thing. Do I have your permission to begin?”

“Let’s be clear about this,” I say, as he circles me again. He seems distracted, so I say sharply, “Stop staring at me andlisten.”

He refocuses his attention on my face, and I think I see a flicker of heat in his eyes. But the next second he’s all pleasant politeness. “I’m listening.”

“I take it you’re not going to mend the dress I made.”

“Certainly not. I’m conjuring you a new one, with new undergarments as well. But the clothing I conjure does expire and disappear eventually. You’ll have to leave the ball by midnight and be back here within half an hour after that, or you’ll end up quite naked.”

I return his grin with a glare. “I’m sure that sounds very funny to you, but it doesn’t to me. I’ve been humiliated quite enough for one lifetime.”

He looks repentant. “As long as you heed the warning and leave by midnight, there should be no such humiliation.”

“I’m not sure I can persuade my stepsisters to leave so early,” I say. “Most balls continue until one or two in the morning. I’ll need my own transportation to and from the palace. Can you provide that?”

“As an addendum to your first request? Certainly. I’m nothing if not generous.”

There’s a twinkle in his eye when he says it, and something in the tenor of his voice sounds downright salacious. A faint flutter courses through my lower belly.

“What are you waiting for?” I snap. “Dress me and provide me with a carriage.”

“So demanding,” he purrs, gathering a handful of my hair and running it through his fingers. “Ah, now you’re thinking of impaling me with that poker. Don’t, I beg you—I’m merely gauging the texture of your hair so I can provide a hairstyle to complement the gown. And now—your ensemble for the grand ball.”

It happens in the blink of an eye. One moment I’m in threadbare undergarments, and the next I’m dressed in the loveliest blue gown I’ve ever seen. My hair is pinned half up, and the blond locks draping my bare shoulders feel so silky and soft I can hardly believe they’re mine.

“Have a look,” murmurs the Faerie, and the air shimmers in front of me, turning solid and reflective like a mirror, until I have a full view of myself, from head to toe.

The bodice of the gown sparkles like it’s made of gemstones, yet it’s as comfortable as a second skin. The skirt swishes airily around my legs. My whole body feels refreshed, and my face—I don’t know what he did to it, but my natural beauty has been enhanced without a trace of cosmetics. I look radiant and elegant. Like a future queen.

“There now,” croons the Faerie. “Some of my best work, I think. Of course I had a lovely subject, which helps.”

The compliment resonates through my body, all the more powerful because I never receive any such words of praise. But caution sparks in my mind, too.

“No sweet talk,” I tell him.

“Not even one tiny compliment?” He arches a brow.

“Not one.”

“Very well.” He pouts a little, then his eyes flare wide with shock. “Shoes! I forgot the shoes.”

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