The Contest

Author's Note: Unnecessary, overly descriptive details of clothing, makeup, fingernail polish, jewelry, and hairstyles will be in this chapter. Seriously ... most of it won't even be related to the plot. I just love this thing that's often called "costume porn." It doesn't involve literal porn. It's just silly fashion stuff.

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Naeva's feet were aflutter, tapping all around the desk that Rellenora sat at with a wilted posture. Her voice was shooting out all sorts of things. Rellenora only understood some of them.

"I can't believe it! I can't! Oh, just imagine your brother's faces when they learn of this! Nobody expected it! In truth, it must be a miracle!"

It was a calamity.

Rellenora wanted to weep. Her eyes and nose were dense with the need to release her aching wretchedness. The sunny weather didn't cheer her up. The luxury of the Eggplant Palace didn't cheer her up. The congratulations from all the Royal Staff in this palace didn't cheer her up. Even Naeva's pleasant attitude didn't cheer her up.

Rellenora was in despair.

She'd never see her home again.

Never see the gray stones of the royal keep, protected by three massive walls.

Never see the native squirrels and little birds.

Never sleep in her comfy little bed.

Never eat her favorite foods.

Never secretly watch the deer, bears, and wolves from afar.

Never again, she'd never ever see her home ever again.

The only way out of this situation she could think of was a divorce, but Rellenora knew she would offend the Emperor if she initiated a divorce. She couldn't even invent a reason to divorce him ... or rather, she couldn't invent one that anyone would accept.

Damn it ... these thoughts couldn't be expressed! Scrolls could always be secretly read!

Rellenora's shoulders rose a bit as parts of a thought blended together.

She could write in a special, secret code that nobody else would understand!

Each character would have certain strokes removed to hide their identities. Then, every other character in each word would be upside down. And then, each sentence would be written backwards, beginning with the last word and ending with the first. And finally, she would start her writing at the opposite end of the scroll, in a direction that was different from where a reader would begin.

If anyone thought it was odd, it wouldn't matter. Rellenora knew she was an idiot anyway. So, while Naeva continued to happily pace around, Rellenora chewed on nothing and wrote her feelings down.

"I don't belong here. I want to go home. Why did he choose the idiot? I hate it here. He's going to be so upset when he realizes he's made a mistake, and he'll have to think of a reason to divorce me. Maybe he'll invent a lie? Perhaps that would be fine. I know he can't tell his court, 'This woman is an idiot' because it was obvious from the beginning."

"What am I meant to do now? How can I live in this place? The members of the court here will hate me. At least in my home, the court there was accustomed to me. They knew not to expect anything good from me. Damn, I want to go home."

Naeva grabbed her shoulder and shook it. Rellenora looked up and saw several, several, several young women, each wearing a single robe and a few flowery hair ornaments.

Along with the women, there were many carts, coffers and wardrobes of varying sizes. There was also a long blackboard supported by a frame that had wheels. All those women bowed to Rellenora, and then one of them stepped to the blackboard with a fresh stick of chalk in her fingers.

The woman wrote on the board, "Greetings, Your Highness, Emperor's Betrothed. We have been sent here to present you with many gifts and to have you properly dressed as a Zenthian elite. Your companion will also be dressed. The Emperor and The Empress Dowager have personally chosen these beautiful things from the Imperial Treasury to give to you. Please accept them."

Rellenora rose from her seat, dropping her brush. Beside her, Naeva bounced in place and laughed as a young maiden might do.

It turned out that, at least during hotter days, the layers of clothing were mostly false. Instead of several robes, strips of fabric were attached to a main robe's edges to give the illusion of wearing from as low as two to as high as forty layers, depending on the wearer's status and the occasion.

Naeva was dressed first because as a woman with no official ranking she would only have one robe with no layers. The women gave her a small wardrobe full of colorful yet tasteful clothing along with all the necessary accessories, including makeup and nail paints.

The first piece of clothing was a thin, white under-dress, a sort of chemise. It had fitted sleeves and a square neckline. Then, a single robe of a dark sprout green was wrapped around her form. The sleeves were mildly loose. The collar was was much higher than the under-dress' neckline. Excess fabric was folded up at her waist, where a cord was attached to keep it in place. Then, a cool gray ornamental sash was put around the cord, hiding it, with a rectangular knot pinned and folded in the back. Small, tight white socks were put on her feet. Then those feet were put into gray slippers.

Rellenora curiously watched the back of Naeva's head as women helped her arrange her hair in a fashionable yet mature coiffure. According to what she had heard, not only would Rellenora become a citizen of Zenthia, but Naeva would be too, since the two women were so close.

Naeva's graying brown hair was parted down the middle. Then a large, braided bun was arranged at her nape with a thick strip of black silk in the center. A fairly long pin of pewter was impaled into this bun, with equal lengths sticking out on each side. Naeva was delighted to have such a glamorous and exotic hairstyle. She patted her head many times and cooed.

The women also taught Naeva how to apply certain cosmetics to the face, but Rellenora didn't pay attention to the results. She decided to write more coded thoughts onto her scrolls while she waited. A few moments later, she noticed that the women were showing Naeva how to paint her fingernails. They suggested that she use a dark brown color. When they were finally done, Rellenora looked at Naeva's wet, shimmering nails and nodded. She thought it was best to encourage the positive feelings that Naeva was expressing. It wouldn't be fair to do otherwise.

As Naeva sat down and waited for her nails to dry, Rellenora realized that it was her turn. Her lower lip stuck out.

First, they washed her hands so roughly that Rellenora sniffled from the ensuing pain. They had wanted to get rid of the ink and chalk stains. Second, they massaged thick cream into the hands. That was fairly nice in its way, but having strangers rub her like that was also a bit creepy.

When Rellenora's hands were dry, the women put her in an under-dress with a lower and wider neckline that exposed the shoulders. Then they showed her several extravagant robes with strips of fabric ready to be mixed and matched. Rellenora honestly didn't care about choosing anything. So, she didn't. Naeva ended up picking an outfit for her.

The main robe that was put aside was a cherry blossom pink. White and gold embroidery was in the fabric, making clusters of bloodroot flowers, from the collar to the hem. A false layer of mint green with white outlines of elliptical leaves was discreetly pinned to the sleeves and other edges of the robe. Next, there was a layer of pale brown with no pattern. Then, a layer of pale yellow with no pattern. And then, a layer of light blue, no pattern. And then, a layer of pale orange. Finally, the last layer was pure white with a thick golden thread stitched in a decorative manner at its edges.

This "layered" robe was arranged with the left side covering the right. As the women began tying it together, Naeva surprised Rellenora by making a somewhat racy suggestion.

"His Majesty loves to see Her Highness' shoulders and the top of her bosom. Why don't you leave these parts of her bare? It would give her a casual look, as her clothing would fall off any any moment. To strengthen the effect, you could even let the robe open at the bottom and show off the under-dress."

Rellenora wanted to throw her inkwell at her companion.

The women agreed. They opened the robe's collar and tied it closed at a point much higher than Naeva's, emphasizing not only her breasts and shoulders, but also letting the robe open and trail behind her, displaying the under-dress from the hips down. One of the women said, "This might be too naughty. Let's cover the under-dress."

They unrolled some fabric, cut it to a desired length, and very quickly sewed the edges over so it wouldn't fray. Then they adjusted it so it could have a drawstring. Rellenora was impressed with their speed. The fabric was white, but thicker than the under-dress. It couldn't have been mistaken for an undergarment.

The women put this fabric around Rellenora's waist under the robe. They tied it in place, but they also used a few small pins. "In the future," a woman said, "we should do this before putting the robe on her."

Two tall mirrors were put into the room. Rellenora was asked to look at herself. Avoiding her face, she looked at her incomplete outfit. With the false layers included, the robe's sleeves were long enough to hide her thumbs. They were also very loose and wide. Rellenora held out one arm. From the armpit to the end of the sleeve, there was a pocket-like extension. It was fairly long, dangling down almost to her knees.

So many colors ...

It was the brightest thing she had ever worn.

She didn't want to approve of it, but she imagined that there wouldn't be any progress if she didn't. So, she nodded. The women moved to pick out a sash to tie around the cord holding the robe together. It was gray, but much shinier than Naeva's sash. It looked like precious silver, but it was made of soft silk. Tiny white tulips were printed onto that silver fabric.

A showy, butterfly shaped knot was formed against Rellenora's back. Not only was the knot heavy, with padding underneath to keep it perky, but the sash itself was tight. Her hands trembled under her sleeves as she tried to adjust her breathing, which was difficult. It felt like a non-consensual embrace.

Before socks were given, the women washed and scrubbed her feet. They even used pumice stones and wine to get rid of anything rough. Then, when Rellenora's feet were soft and dry, they put the socks on her. Mint green slippers that matched a layer on her robe were put over the socks. They were disturbingly cozy.

Multiple hands with metal combs dug into her hair, taming it a little. Then they dipped the combs into clear, hot oils with flowery scents. Rellenora soon endured a painful, tugging process of having the hot material combed into her locks. Her teeth were so tightly compressed that she wouldn't have been shocked to learn that some of them fell out.

Her blonde hair was parted in the center, but that was the only similarity shared with Naeva. On each side of her head, round buns were made with smaller sections. From these buns, loops hung, resting on her face and framing her ears. The remaining hair in the back was also looped, nearly shaped like a noose and secured with a pale blue band.

Using her wide sleeves to hide everything on her face except for one eye, Rellenora looked at her hair while the women searched for ornaments. She thought that her side buns were like a bear's ears and the loops looked like curved springs.

When someone approached her with a sharp and thin needle, Rellenora gulped and retreated. Naeva had to calm her down, explaining that they were only meant to pierce her ears, and it wouldn't hurt very much. Nevertheless, it did hurt. It felt like her earlobes were constantly being pinched. Rellenora sniffed up her agony as tiny silver studs were put in the fresh holes.

Then, the women decided that it was the best time to paint her fingernails. They rolled and pinned her sleeves up. Then they chose a sparkling pale blue color to put over all the nails aside from her pinkies and ring fingers. They told her that since those last nails were unfashionably short, long fingernails guards would be placed on them.

Those devices looked like long claws in Rellenora's opinion. The ones chosen on this day were silver, encrusted with rows of blue stones that matched the fingernail paint. They were snugly fit onto her fingers, right up to the joints. If the points of the long guards had been sharp, Rellenora could have punctured her wrist whenever she curled her fingers.

While they waited for the fingernail paint to dry, the women picked out several things to put in Rellenora's hair. Covering the middle part on her head, there was a row of pale blue gemstones set in silver, matching the fingernail guards in a suspicious way, with a single gemstone hanging over her forehead. This row was attached to a matching, hand-fan shaped crown that was placed on her head via a comb and pins. It stuck out on the top of her head like a set of spread fingers ready to wave at someone.

On her bear ear buns, matching barrettes were clipped. Then similar looking, fairly large rings were placed on her middle fingers. On her throat, a close-fitting necklace, made of more matching jewels and silver, was clasped into place. Rellenora's body was truly feeling heavy. She wanted to tear everything away and flee as she did it.

It was time for the makeup. Rellenora didn't understand it, really. First, they made sure her face was clean. Then they rubbed bits of wet, pale stuff that smelled like clay and roses onto her face. According to what she heard, it wasn't meant to cover her natural skin tone. It was meant to hide any imperfections and blend in all at once. When that was done, they used pale pink rouges to paint over her lips as one might do on a canvas. Then they used a fluffy brush to put a softer version of that color on her cheeks. When all this was done, Rellenora had to strategically cover parts of her face in order to examine each change without her brain overloading.

The last things added were a fresh, black silk cord tied into her sash. Attached to this cord were the necessary items for her communication, a writing slate, a clean wiping cloth, and a pouch of chalk.

Why was all this done now? Well, not only was Rellenora meant to become accustomed to all the finery as soon as possible, but she was also meant to be presented to the Royal Court at a celebratory dinner party. It all sounded unpleasant, but there was no way out.

In the hours leading up to the dinner party, Rellenora tried to adjust her body and mind to all the things put onto her person. When her nails were dry and the long sleeves of her robe were released from their temporary pins, she tried to imagine herself as a graceful creature, much like Princess Chohni.

Damn it! The Emperor should have picked Chohni! Or Lagath! Really, anyone but Rellenora!

But soon, the hour arrived. The sky had blending shades of blue, dark pink, and orange. Naeva and Rellenora were escorted out of the Eggplant Palace and into the Imperial Palace. They were taken to a tall door that led to a dining hall. When the door opened, confetti was shot into the air before them. Applause echoed all around.

The dining hall was a grand, massive room with brown walls and cream colored floors. Many tables of varying sizes were arranged in rows with elite guests seated at them. Servants were waiting near carts of food.

A woman wearing many, many layers of rich colors approached and took Rellenora's hand. Rellenora quickly figured out this was the Empress Dowager. She recognized her fingernails and milky sweet perfume.

Rellenora and Naeva both went to their knees. Rellenora felt a tug on her hand, and then she stood up. So did her companion.

The Empress Dowager walked Rellenora down the dining hall while Naeva closely followed. The applause was continuing, drilling into her ears. The only thing that seemed louder was her heart.

The women halted at a long, wide table at the end of the dining hall. The Emperor, her Betrothed, was seated almost in the middle, but not quite. The Empress Dowager guided Rellenora to sit at his right. Naeva took a seat at a small table that was behind Rellenora, giving her a place close to her mistress yet not at the most important table in the room. The Empress Dowager took a seat at her son's left.

Despite not being a very effective political figure, Prince Yban was at the table. He was at Rellenora's right, putting the distressed princess between two men that made her highly uncomfortable on the best of days.

Her Betrothed rose from his seat and held out one arm. The applause died. The Emperor gave a few powerful messages to everyone. Rellenora wasn't paying attention to his words, whatever they were. She felt his hand on her bare shoulder, grasping her, scorching her. She regretted ever letting the man see that part of her.

Once the Emperor was sitting again, the servants began handing out plates of food and cups of wine. The charger plates were a blood red color with gold paint on the rims. The food that was served was, as usual, not to Rellenora's liking. She ate regardless, forcing herself to do it, because she knew that starving to death was generally bad.

Sometimes, the Emperor would lean in and touch the back of her hand with his fingertips. It as a sliding, whispering feeling that made Rellenora wince.

Other times, he would murmur something in her newly pierced ears, but she'd ignore him, choosing not to try to understand, sticking her eyes to the food she hated to much.

Musicians and dancers of both sexes performed dutifully. Rellenora thought the tune was dulcet and fun. She rejected the desire to tap her feet and clap her hands. Everyone else seemed happy. They moved their bodies to the beat. Her Betrothed was probably the most active. His feet stomped. His tail bounced on his lap. His torso swayed back and forth.

That tail was beginning to remind Rellenora of a worm.

More food. More music. More restrained merrymaking. More comments from her Betrothed.

At length, he seemed to tire of receiving no replies. He reached for her chalk pouch and took a stick. Then he wrote on her slate. "Aren't you enjoying the party?"

Rellenora knew she couldn't ignore that. So, she nodded at him.

He wiped the question away and wrote something else down. "The young women here are looking at you. I imagine that within a day most will copy the drooping style of your clothing."

The more likely idea in Rellenora's head was how the women were probably gossiping and making fun of her. Still, she nodded.

Dropping the chalk into her palm, leaning in and putting his hot mouth near her ear, the Emperor said something low.

Rellenora tapped the length of her chalk with her recently painted fingernail. Then, as she figured out what had been said, her fingers tightly closed over the chalk.

"I'll visit your palace after dinner. We'll have a more fruitful conversation then."

Queasy, she glanced at his arms. His tightly closed robe was a bright red. There were several layers of deep colors, even glittering gold and midnight blue. After whatever conversation he wanted, did he plan on pulling that robe away? Did he plan on pulling hers away too?

His loose sleeve folded and fluttered as he patted the silks that covered her wrist. Then he spoke in her ear again. While Rellenora untied the knot that was his words, the Emperor reached up to playfully fondle and prod one of her hair's loops.

"I wouldn't mind seeing your pretty curls in a few more styles."

Why, though?

Rellenora put her chalk away and looked at the other man beside her. Prince Yban was picking up a slice of boar. His posture was relaxed and blissful. She looked up at his throat. It twisted a little. Was he looking at her?