Page 78 of A Crown of Deceit & Ruin
Her weary bones practically moaned as Kestrel sank into the scorching waters.
The mousy, grey-haired woman began scrubbing her with a brush, and Kestrel might’ve protested if the heat hadn’t melted her into oblivion.
After she was finished, the woman helped her out of the tub and into a towel. She walked back over to the armoire, studied the items she’d placed inside before twisting back around to give Kestrel a quick up and down.
“Now, let’s have a look at you. Oh, with hair like that, I bet browns suit you nicely. What do you think?”
“Browns?” Kestrel asked, her voice barely returning from its deep relaxation.
Instead of answering her, the woman exclaimed with a new epiphany. “Silly me. Green is definitely your color. I mean just look at those eyes. Blessed moon, they’re positively radiant.”
As the woman spun back around to the armoire, Kestrel glanced at herself in the mirror on her vanity. Nobody had ever called her eyes radiant before. It brought a tinge of pink to her freckled cheeks.
“Here we are,” the woman said, dislodging a skirt the color of a juniper bush. Draped over the servant’s arms, the folds of fabric seemed heavier than her entire frame.
Kestrel staggered back a step the minute she saw it. Shehateddresses. Skirts were just as bad. She found the swaths of fabric constricting, even when she was younger. Back then, the only thing she ever wanted to do was climb and lay upside down on the edge of her bed, or to perch on the ledge of their window, dangling one leg on either side. Skirts made all of those things difficult, if not impossible. And Thom had long-since stopped bringing them home to her as soon as she was able to express her distaste of them.
Kestrel preferred trousers to skirts, and long flowing tunics to whatever tight contraption the servant was holding up for her now.
But Kestrel was realizing she hadn’t seen a single woman dressed in anything but gowns and petticoats since arriving toIrongate. Even the servant before her was swathed in thick folds of fabric that nearly dragged to the floor.
There was still so much Kestrel had yet to learn, and she didn’t want to offend anyone or start off on the wrong foot, especially since she felt as though the game was already stacked against her due to her relationship to the Corrupt Queen. And this woman had come all the way up here with new garments just for her, probably nearly breaking her back in the process.
Kestrel forced a smile. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.” The woman beamed. “I dare say, I’ve got quite the keen eye, my lady. You’re in good hands with me. Come, come.”
She gestured for Kestrel to come closer, and she obliged, already deciding that anything this woman wanted her to do, she would do it. There was an air of knowledge about her that Kestrel wanted to absorb. But more than that, she just seemed genuinely nice. Like the kind of person Kestrel would want to befriend. And she needed friends now.
“Arms up, my lady,” the woman said again.
Kestrel obliged her, letting the towel drop.
“You can call me Kestrel,” she stammered as the cold breezed across her bare skin. No one had dressed her since…well, she couldn’t remember how long. It felt unnatural, too vulnerable, and the minute the towel dropped, Kestrel hugged her arms around her chest.
“Oh, that’s nice of you, but it’ll have to bemy ladyfrom me. You understand?”
She didn’t, but Kestrel nodded all the same.
Since the woman was a good head shorter, she had to throw the new blouse up and over Kestrel’s head just to get it on her. It looked as if she was ready to help her shimmy into the fabric, but Kestrel was too impatient. She wanted her bodycovered so she hastily stretched an arm into either side and tugged the blouse down. It was tighter than she usually wore, but bearable.
The woman raised an eyebrow at her behavior, but readied the skirts without so much as a word.
“And what do I call you?” Kestrel asked, feeling a little better now that her top half was clothed again.
“Oh my, where in the Hollows are my manners? My name’s Marion.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Marion,” Kestrel said as Marion held open a beige skirt, different from the green one she had originally shown her. Kestrel stepped inside and noted how light the fabric was as Marion buttoned the backside around her waist. A skirt like this, she could maybe still move around in without too much hassle. But then Marion grabbed the green one, and held it out to her as well. “Oh, I’ll be wearing two skirts?”
A flicker of shock flashed behind Marion’s eyes, there one second and then gone the next. “That’s right. The queen instructed me to dress you like a proper lady.”
“I…don’t think I like being a proper lady,” Kestrel muttered as Marion tied the heavy, green skirt around her waist.
The woman chuckled. “You’ll get used to it. But maybe we’ll skip your corset for now.”
Kestrel nodded, grateful not to have to wear whatever additional item a corset was.
Marion guided her to the vanity, where she brushed and styled Kestrel’s hair. She tried smoothing back the frizzy curls into a tight knot like all the other ladies, but what they were left with was a sort of disheveled nest fit for a bird and her hatchlings.
