Princess of Glass - Jessica Day George [30]
When a voice finally did answer her, Ellen jumped.
“That lotion is a special treatment for your feet,” said her godmother. “So you can dance all night!”
Her godmother laughed, and Ellen joined in.
Draped in a shimmering silk dressing robe as light as gauze, Ellen followed her godmother into a room filled with gorgeous gowns. She had been there before; these rooms were hers whenever she visited her godmother. She had tried on many of the dresses, putting on one after another and admiring herself in the long mirrors. Silent seamstresses took her measurements and made sure that each bodice fitted as if had been pasted on, each skirt was just the right length, no sleeve was too binding or too loose.
Ellen knew exactly which gown she wanted to wear this evening. It was exactly the sort of thing she had dreamed of these past horrible years since her parents’ deaths. Sea colored, it seemed to float whenever she took it down to admire it.
“No, no,” her godmother said as Eleanora reached for the gown now. “Not that old thing. You must have something very special for tonight. But first …”
She clapped her plump hands, which made a surprisingly sharp noise, and servants came running in. They took Ellen’s dressing gown and put her in underclothes so white and fine that it was almost a shame to cover them. Then a corset, laced so tight she could hardly breathe, and after that layer after layer of petticoats, embroidered with tiny scarlet roses.
And then the gown. The magnificent gown.
It was so heavy that it took two women to carry it. Luxurious white silk nearly as thick as velvet, lined with scarlet, embroidered heavily with scarlet roses and encrusted with rubies and pearls at the neckline. There were no laces or hooks: when they had it over Eleanora’s head a seamstress sewed up the back seam of the gown.
It fit like her own skin, and yet was so heavy and dramatic that she knew she could never not be aware of it. She looked in the mirrors and tears began to drip down her cheeks.
“It is so beautiful!”
“And you deserve it, my lovely,” her godmother said. The woman was looking her up and down with satisfaction, almost greed. “You deserve it.”
Her godmother clapped her hands again, and more servants entered. They sat Ellen carefully on a low stool, with her skirts spread out around her, and expertly applied cosmetics to her face. Then her long hair was brushed through with a shining pomade and twisted up into an elaborate coiffure.
After that, to Ellen’s rapturous delight, jewels were brought in. A choker of rubies, ruby and diamond pins for her hair, a ring and bracelet. The servants placed them reverently upon her, and she was ready for the ball, with the exception of her feet.
“Oh, what about slippers?” As she had stood to admire herself in the mirrors again, Ellen felt the slick floor beneath her bare soles and realized that she wasn’t even wearing stockings or garters beneath her gown, let alone shoes.
“This way, my darling girl,” her godmother said, and took her arm with one soft hand.
“I have such special slippers for you that you will not need stockings,” the smiling old woman continued as they went down a long corridor lined with flowers made of glass. “They would only spoil the effect.”
The cold glass floor chilled Ellen’s feet. She couldn’t fathom going out in public without stockings—she would be half-naked! What if she lifted her skirts too high and exposed her bare legs to the royal court?
Her godmother read the girl’s alarm easily and chuckled. “Now, now! Have I not provided for everything else? These are very special shoes, as I’ve said. They will help you to dance like a dream! No one will notice that you aren’t wearing stockings, even if they do catch a glimpse of your ankles. Don’t you trust me?”
Not wanting to seem ungrateful to the kind lady who had given her so much, Ellen pushed aside her fears and smiled