recently. I’m fine now,” she reassured her stepmother. “Five by five.”
“Well…perhaps you ought to wear something else,” Nuala said, chewing her lip. “I’m sure Chalia…or maybe Chance…”
She looked so disappointed. Kett had kicked the puppy.
“No,” Kett said, looking over her shoulder at the way the dress highlighted the ugly, knotted lines crisscrossing her back. “You know what, no. These are my damn scars and I ain’t ashamed of them, and besides, look at me. It’s not like I’m gonna fit in with the rest of the crowd anyway.”
Nuala blinked. “You’ll wear it?”
“I’ll wear it. But not the shoes,” she added quickly.
Nuala looked at them, sad for a moment, and nodded. “Well, I did think they might be pushing it,” she said. “Would you like to borrow some makeup?”
Kett stared at her. Another shapeshifter advantage-or maybe it was a disadvantage now-was that she could alter her features without cosmetics. “Wouldn’t know what to do with it,” she said.
“Beyla and Eithne would absolutely love to-”
“No,” Kett said, a little more forcefully than she’d intended. “No. Thanks. I’m fine.”
Of course Nuala couldn’t possibly leave it at that, and eventually Kett gave in and allowed her stepmother to dab some goop at her face, do something fancy with her hair and try to persuade her to wear some jewelry.
“Didn’t we talk about pushing it?” she snapped eventually.
Nuala raised her hands in defeat. “All right,” she said, and for some reason she was smiling. She backed away. “I’ll see you downstairs. People are already arriving.”
Kett stared at her. “You haven’t even changed yet!”
“I can be remarkably quick.”
“And your maid-”
“Laid everything out for me before she went. Your father will help me.”
Kett’s mind boggled at the thought of her dissolute father helping to put a woman’s clothes
“Your sisters are taking care of them. They have done so the last few years.” Nuala grinned. “Despite what your father thinks, they’re quite grown-up now.” She gave Kett one last look, glanced wistfully at the silver shoes and smiled. “You look lovely.”
“I’ve never looked lovely in my life,” Kett grumped.
“Well, you do now.” Nuala stood up on tiptoe and kissed Kett’s cheek. “I’ll see you downstairs.”
Kett stared after her, stunned. No one had ever kissed her cheek. Not her sisters, not her father, not any friends and certainly not any lovers.
Great gods in heaven, she put on a dress and people started treating her like a…like a lady or something.
She’d have to put the balance right.
Chapter Nine
Walking with all this silk billowing around her was kind of annoying. But at the same time, it did feel nice against her skin. Kett made a face as she stomped down the corridor. Any minute now she was going to start wearing things with bows.
One of the elegant dogs that usually followed her sisters around trotted toward her and she halted it, checking the tag on its collar.
“Kett II,” she read. They’d started calling their pets Kett years ago, after Kett had changed her shape to match that of Eithne’s pony in an ill-conceived attempt to impress her infant siblings. Since then, there’d always been at least one pet named after her. “You poor sod,” she told the dog, who gave her the sort of big-eyed, mournful look only dogs can and slunk away.
There was music coming from the ballroom at the rear of the house and people spilling out into the lobby. Last night the servants had put up huge wreaths of yew and vitalweed, and the semi-sentient flowers swayed gently to the music. Huge candles and gas lamps were everywhere, making the lobby and everyone within it glow beautifully with a sort of kaleidoscope of color-
Kett peered closer. Bobbing around the living flower arrangements were an assortment of faeries, their bright auras glowing, making little rainbows as they danced. It figured that her stepmother had actually invited the little buggers. She probably had faery-sized food and drink laid out for them.
She recognized a few faces, tried to avoid them as she descended the stairs in a flurry of silk. But she couldn’t avoid Beyla, who rushed over to her at the foot of the steps, exclaiming, “Kett, you look
People turned to look. Kett winced.
“Cheers,” she said. Beyla was wearing something satiny in dark green, surprisingly sophisticated, reminding Kett again that her half-sisters were not little girls anymore.
“Kett, I wanted to catch you before you went in. Eithne’s invited Verrick-her boyfriend,” she clarified, when Kett gave her a blank look. “And you know Papa has some ridiculous problem with him.”
“And yet he likes Bael,” Kett said. “The mind boggles.”
“Bael is lovely,” Beyla said, and Kett started to wonder if insanity was hereditary. “And Papa seems to think we’re both little girls who can’t take care of ourselves.” For a moment, her pretty face clouded with the sort of scowl her father had perfected. Then it cleared as she spotted someone over Kett’s shoulder. “Oh, doesn’t Lucidia look lovely? She so suits being a blonde. But listen, Kett, if you see Eithne and Verrick together, try to keep Papa away from them.”
“I don’t even know what this Verrick looks like,” Kett said, but her sister was already moving away to greet the lovely Lucidia and her newly blonde hair.
“Whatever,” Kett said, and started toward the crowded ballroom. It was thick with people and scents, candles and perfume and flowers, and for a moment she reeled, because she hadn’t been in such a crowd for a long time.
Then she squared her shoulders.
Not many, though.
“Lady Kett Almet-Cooper of Nirya,” announced the hired emcee, to whom Kett delivered a look that made him shrink about four inches. Lady was bad enough, but Cooper?
“I divorced that twat years ago,” she muttered, and stalked onward.
The noise was overwhelming, a babble of voices and music and people laughing, and everywhere she looked there were unfamiliar faces topping ridiculous confections of silk and velvet. There appeared to be, in some corners of society, a fashion for powdered wigs, feathers and beads in the hair. The people wearing them looked ridiculous, but it was Kett’s opinion that most people following fashion did.
She scanned the crowd for a familiar face. Beyla was still in the lobby, being a hostess. Eithne was doing the same with a group of bewigged women who looked like they had cobwebs on their heads.
She spotted Tane, being a terrible host but a great flirt, talking to a very pretty girl over by the windows. No help there.
There was Nuala’s brother, the king, looking very regal, but what the hell did she have to say to him? A few feet away stood his daughter and heir, Jalen, looking as bored as Kett was and as beautiful as she wasn’t. If all else failed, she could always go over and ask Jalen what sharp pointy things she’d been given for Yule.
Besides, she had a bottle of wine in one hand.
But before she got there, Jalen’s miscreant boyfriend slunk up to her and kissed the back of her neck, making the princess jump and spill her wine. Kett backed away, having absolutely no desire to get in the middle of a domestic.
The noise, the heat, the clashing perfumes and all the deeply unpleasant people were giving her a hell of a headache.
