On the evening of the ball, Florina and her mother were bundled into a carriage and sent on their way. Florina's gown was an almost garish chartreuse, edged with red and orange feathers such that it was reminiscent of some tropical bird. Her mother had spared no expense and it was the single finest piece of clothing I had seen in my entire short existence. It was sure to make an impression, but whether that impression was positive or negative was entirely dependent upon Florina's charming disposition.

As soon as the carriage was out of the drive and onto the street, I practically bounded up the stairs to Ariane's room. My heart pounded in mixed anticipation and apprehension.

Her door was ajar when I arrived and a tall divider split the room.

"Ari?" I asked.

"There's a bath waiting for you," she replied from behind the wood panels. "There's soap and shampoo. I've got a couple things I need to finish up while you soak."

I was met with a rush of hot air in the next room and I eagerly slipped out of my clothes as soon as the door was closed behind me. I sighed as I slipped my feet into the warm water. A hot bath was an unheard of luxury for me.

But even as the warmth seeped into my muscles, my mind conjured unpleasant memories of being in water.

I had a flash of the memory of sensation, of bullets tearing my flesh, of stumbling into icy water, of feeling it fill my lungs.

I tried to calm myself. This was safe, I was fine.

I was not fine.

I cursed softly as I rose to my feet, abandoning the warmth. I hurriedly scrubbed myself clean with the provided soap, feeling a stab of guilt that I could not properly enjoy the bath that Ariane had prepared entirely on her own.

The nagging feeling dogged me as I emerged from the streamy room toweling my hair, but it was banished entirely by the sight before me.

I gasped and came to a sudden halt.

Ariane had pulled back the divider revealing a mannequin wearing an incredible gown. It was a silvery gray and cut in the kind of ethereal flowing way one would expect of some wandering spirit out on the moors. The sleeves and neckline were modest enough to cover the most prominent of my scars, but daring enough to emphasize my assets, such as they were.

"Wh… what?" I gasped, unable to find words to express my wonder.

"Do you like it?" She asked nervously, as she wrung her hands.

"Ari… it's beautiful. How…?"

"I, uh… I made it"

My gaze snapped to her and she blushed.

"You made this?"

She smiled sheepishly and shrugged. "I'm a woman of many talents. I needed to make sure it was perfect and I didn't trust anyone else to get it right."

She let out a sigh and a small frown creased her face.

"We'll have to destroy it of course."

I recoiled slightly, blinking at her.

"If mother and Florina see you at the ball," she explained, "and then they see it here, they'll know you were there. We can't let that happen."

I turned back and ran my fingers along the silky fabric.

"This must have taken you weeks to make," I said breathlessly. "It would be such a shame to destroy it."

She blushed.

"If it gives you one night of freedom and joy, it was worth it."

She cleared her throat.

"As for the… underthings," she said, her cheeks still pink. "I had to borrow a few items from Florina's wardrobe if that's alright."

I realized then that in order to don such underthings, I would need to disrobe. Judging from her expression, the very same thought was occurring to her. The color drained from her face and her eyes went wider than I had ever seen them. She hurriedly turned her back to me and blindly handed me a chemise over her shoulder.

I grabbed the slip of fabric and turned my own back just as quickly, very much aware of the sudden close intimacy of her room.

After I regained a modicum of decency, she returned to assist me with a corset.

"Oh," she gasped upon seeing my back.

Her fingers gently brushed against the scars that poked out from beneath the chemise. She knew the scars from my creation, but she had never seen the scars from my death. With the gentlest touch that sent strange thrills through me, she traced the places where bullets had torn into me. When she spoke, her voice was a barely audible whisper.

"He wrote about this but… El, I'm so sorry, this never should have happened to you."

I drew in a ragged breath, whether from the memory or something else entirely, I didn't know.

The next few moments were spent in silence as she laced the corset and helped me into the gown. She briefly paused to gift me with one final caress across my shoulders when she had finished.

She carefully combed my hair and applied an oil that brought out the natural luster of it. Neither of us had any experience with styling, but she patiently informed me that wearing it loose would not be out of place with the costume. Following that, she got to work on my face, carefully applying creams and colored pigments to mute my unnatural coloring somewhat.

"Where did you even get all of this?" I asked as she added blush to my face.

"Stole it," she responded.

"You… ah…"

"Florina has amassed quite a selection, I doubt she'll miss any of it."

When she finally finished, I turned to face the mirror and was shocked by what I saw. I almost looked… human.

Almost.

"What about my eyes?"

With all the makeup around them, they gleamed almost golden.

"There are alchemical compounds that can temporarily change eye color," she explained, "though I would strongly recommend against it. With the sorts of people there, your eyes will not be remarked upon."

For the very final touch, she produced a lace mask and tied it carefully so as to not disturb my hair or makeup. She withdrew and froze, biting her bottom lip. I had seen that look on her before, when she became so engrossed with all the little details of a project that she seemed genuinely surprised to see the final result.

But now she was looking at me with that expression of confused wonder and I felt a flutter in my chest.

"Well?" I asked tentatively. "How do I look?"

She shook herself out of her reverie.

"You look… stunning. Like a princess. I, um… I need to change."

"Wait," I said. "I thought you weren't going."

She gave me a smirk.

"I'm not, but you'll need a footman to escort you and enable your daring escape at midnight. I can't go in with you, but I'll be right there when you're ready to leave."

She disappeared behind the divider, and I spied a familiar book sticking out from under her mattress as I waited patiently for her. I idly flipped through the pages of it, contemplating the words. I recalled the way Ariane had clutched it, how she had so desperately wanted me to understand.

I recalled the strange feelings it had conjured in my own heart.

When she finally emerged from behind the divider, she was wearing a man's coat and breeches. Her hair was slicked back and she was skinny enough under the coat to pass as a boy. The sapphire blue of her coat was more color than I had ever seen on her in the entire time I had known her. Beyond that, there was a brightness in her eyes, a vibrancy I had never seen before. It was as if all the dour, shapeless dresses she wore were part of some disguise and I was now seeing her for the very first time.

She had spoken of wanting to be free, but I don't think I ever quite managed to picture it until that exact moment.

I stared at her, and it wasn't just the unfamiliar vivacious version of her that held my gaze either. Despite myself, I found my eyes lingering on her legs and the lithe shape of her. The sight conjured feelings that frankly, I did not quite know what to do with.

By some glorious miracle, she failed to discern the feelings behind my gaze. She simply grinned devilishly and bowed. A smile crept onto my face as I bobbed an awkward courtesy and she offered me her arm.

 

---

 

Transportation, it turned out, was a carriage and horses that had been covertly borrowed from an elderly neighbor down the road. I had a suspicion that a tidy sum of money had changed hands under the table. It honestly boggled me how Ariane had managed to conjure such a thing, given her utter lack of social graces. I decided that perhaps it was best not to know.

The coachman was a stableboy from the same house that had provided the carriage. He was a gangly creature, dressed up in the same colors that Ariane was wearing. At the sight of me, his eyes went round as saucers.

"Piers, I'm paying you to drive, not to gawk," Ariane snapped.

The boy ducked his head in embarrassment.

"Beggin' your pardon ma'am," he said. "That dress is right lovely though."

I felt my cheeks heat and I gave him a smile.

Ariane scowled and shook her head.

"Piers, we appreciate the sentiment, but if you open your mouth like that at the ball, people will realize you're not actually a proper coachman."

"Yes ma'am, I won't speak another word."

Ariane opened the carriage door and offered me a hand.

"Thank you, Piers," I said to my coachman as I stepped into the carriage, flashing him a smile.

He blushed and ducked his head bashfully. Would he have reacted that way if I hadn't been wearing this disguise? What would he think if he knew I was more than just a simple servant who dreamed of going to the ball?

Ariane settled in across from me and caught my mood.

"Hey," she said, taking my hand. "You don't have to go if you're having doubts. We can just… drive somewhere else tonight."

There was something in her eyes, and I truthfully did not know how she wanted me to respond.

"No, I want to go," I said, letting out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "After all the effort you put into this, I have to at least try."

She hesitated for the barest moment and nodded.

"We shall make it happen," she said, "but you can leave any time you want. Remember that."

We rode through the deepening twilight in companionable silence. I was too nervous to make conversation and she had never been one to fill silence simply for the sake of it.

As we neared the estate, she finally spoke.

"Remember what we discussed, you need to be back in the carriage before the clock strikes twelve. It's the only way we can get you home before my mother and sister."

I swallowed and nodded.

She looked like she wanted to say more, but we had arrived. She shook her head as if clearing her thoughts and hopped out of the carriage. She held out her hand to help me down. She held it a moment longer than necessary and gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

"Enjoy yourself," she whispered.