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‘Oh, erm, I’ll do it,’ I said hastily. At least that way she wouldn’t see my zip. I got out of my dress quickly and stood in front of her in my underwear.
‘Unusual undergarments,’ she commented with a scandalised glance.
‘They’re from Paris,’ I blurted. They had racy underwear in France, right?
Her expression cleared. ‘Of course.’
She helped me into a corset. ‘Not much bust,’ she muttered as she tightened the laces, ‘so we’ll have to make your waist your feature.’ She grunted with effort as she pulled at my middle section.
‘Don’t I need to breathe?’ I asked weakly. She ignored me; if anything, she pulled harder to punish me for my sass.
After she had finished removing my ability to breathe, she helped me into a veritable tonne of petticoats and pulled the blue dress onto me. Thematerial was heavy, a rich, bright blue inlaid with elaborate golden embroidery. The neck plunged to a deep V, and the arms ended at my elbow in a ruffle. There was no mirror in the tiny room so I couldn’t see myself, but I was fairly confident I looked awesome.
The woman grabbed a hairbrush and I discretely removed Terrance while she wasn’t looking. Then she started pulling at my hair. Oh lord, I really was getting a full makeover.
Chapter 30
The maid had created a multitude of plaits in my hair, tied them in a low bun and decorated it with some flowers, then she’d applied some white powder to my skin and a light rouge to my cheeks. I dreaded to think what the makeup was made of; fingers crossed for beetroot as opposed to crushed beetles. She applied some sort of oil to my eyelashes and my eyebrows. I longed for a swipe of mascara, but it wasn’t to be.
When she was finally done, I wanted to heave a sigh of relief but I couldn’t because I didn’t want to waste what little air I could fit into my lungs.
I slipped Terrance back on and stepped out. Greg was leaning against the wall and Torrance was still juggling. His hands stilled when he saw the maid step out behind me; without her being able to see the fire he was casually tossing, the movement of his hands would look odd in the extreme.
Greg blinked at the sight of me. ‘Wow,’ he said finally. ‘That’s a look.’ I gave him a flat stare and he recovered some of his aplomb. ‘I mean, you look amazing but it’s not aneverydaylook.’
I grinned. ‘Thank God. I can’t even breathe.’
‘Breathing is overrated,’ Torrance quipped.
‘This way,’ the maid ordered, her voice prim with disapproval at our familiarity. She had glanced at my hands and, seeing no rings adorned them, could only assume that Greg and I had some sort of scandalous relationship. To be fair, she wasn’t wrong.
We followed her through the back corridors out to the main doors where the ogre we’d travelled with was loitering. He pushed off the wall when he saw me and grunted, ‘Thanks, Mary, I’ll take it from here.’
Mary sniffed and left. The ogre pushed open the double doors and deafening noise exploded into my ears.Too loud, Esme complained.
The huge hall was full of people. A string quartet was playing and people were dancing. Others had gathered in clusters around the edges of the hall, talking and drinking. Bursts of raucous laughter occasionally came from the assembled guests and I thought rather jealously that at leasttheywere having a good time.
I longed for a glass of bubbles but knew better than to take one. It was best to keep my brain switched on and engaged – I’d need all my wits about me and I couldn’t afford to drown any of them in alcohol. If Timmy Krieg’s progeny was any indicator, then Timmy Krieg was indeed a dangerous man. I took a moment to remind myself of the ogre rules of proper conduct; no prolonged periods of eye contact, no letting my shadow touch his.
We followed the minion ogre to where another ogre sprawled on what was clearly intended to be a throne. Was Timmy the High King too? You’d think Torrance or Ali would have mentioned that. Maybe he just had aspirations; I didn’t mind that; I had aspirations too.
As we strode towards him, the ogre on the throne brightened. He had blue-black hair and two monstrous horns protruding from his head. His left arm was sizeably larger than his right like it was always an arm day for him but he only trained on the left-hand side.
We can take him,Esme said confidently.
For the first time, I seriously doubted her. This man washuge,and the metal mace resting casually by his throne was all kinds of spiky. We’d be like a pincushion when he was done with us.
‘Torr!’ Krieg called. He surged to his feet, grabbed his mace and swung the mighty thing, casually restingthe instrument of death on his shoulder. He swaggered forward to clap the fire elemental on his back. I was tense, ready to shift at the first sign of that mace swinging at me or at Torrance.
A casual observer might have thought that the men were friends – except that Timmy used a shade too much force with his backslap and rocked Torrance forward almost off his feet. No, they weren’t friends but for some reason Timmy was happy to play make believe.
If Ali was right then Torrance was ‘the one that got away’, not from a romance but from a criminal organisation. Once you joined Timmy Krieg’s Sloggers, you didn’t leave – yet Torrance had done so. I’d bet that show of affection was because Krieg had pretended he’d let Torrance leave willingly and not because he’d been paid a king’s ransom to do so. He didn’t want the others getting ideas.
‘Timmy,’ Torrance replied, a shade stiffly as he regained his footing.
‘Good to see you, my man.’ Timmy shot him a sly grin. He laid a little too much emphasis on ‘my’and Torrance swallowed hard. Timmy seemed to relish making him uncomfortable. He winked. ‘You’re always welcome back, you know. I still haven’t found another elemental that fits in as well as you did.’
‘No, thank you,’ Torrance said primly. ‘My marauding days are behind me.’
