“And brunette. Haven’t had one of those in decades.”
“Thanks, I guess,” I mumbled, but with the sun shining in my eyes, I couldn’t see who I was talking to. “Who’re you?”
“Calliope!” This was the one who spoke in exclamation points, the one who’d called me pretty. I pried my eyelids open just enough to get a decent look at her. Smaller than me, with blond hair that hung past her waist and a round face that flushed pink with happiness. She looked so excited that I was afraid she’d topple over.
“Ella,” said the second girl dully. Still squinting, I got a good look at her and felt a stab of jealousy. Dark hair, tall, impossibly beautiful, and she looked bored to tears.
“And you’re Katherine,” said Calliope. “Sofia told us all about you, how you came here to help your friend and how you’re staying with us for six months and—”
“Calliope, stop it, you’re scaring her.”
I didn’t know if scaring was technically the right word, but it worked for now. As Calliope bounced up and down, getting closer to me with each move she made, I started to lean back. Her exuberance was intimidating.
“Oh.” Calliope took a step back, blushing again. “Sorry. Are you hungry?”
Deep breath, I thought. In and out, in and out, and maybe things would start to make sense.
“She needs to get dressed first,” said Ella, moving toward an armoire. “Katherine, what’s your favorite color?”
“Kate. Call me Kate,” I said through gritted teeth. It was too early in the morning for this. “And I don’t have one.”
“You don’t have a favorite color?” said Calliope disbelievingly as she moved to help Ella. I stood and stretched, unable to see what exactly they were doing. Both of them stood in front of the armoire, which looked as if it were chock-full of clothing.
“Not today,” I said, irritated. “I can dress myself, you know.”
Ella and Calliope wrestled something long and blue and soft from the crush of clothing. They both turned toward me, holding—
Oh, no.
“Unless you’ve some sort of inhuman ability to lace yourself up into a corset, dressing yourself isn’t an option,” said Ella, her eyes glinting. I didn’t know if it was out of amusement or malevolence. Quite possibly both.
They held up a blue dress that was so low-cut, not even Ava would’ve touched it. The sleeves were long and narrow, fanning out just toward the end, and there was lace. Lace.
My eyes widened. “You can’t be serious.”
“You don’t like it?” Calliope frowned and ran a hand over the soft fabric. “What about something yellow? You’d look nice in yellow.”
“I don’t wear dresses,” I said through a clenched jaw. “Ever.”
Ella snorted. “I don’t care, because you do now. I’m in charge of wardrobe, and unless you want to wear what you have on now until you stink so badly that no one comes near you, you’re wearing this.”
I stared at the blue monstrosity. “I’m not your doll. You can’t make me play dress-up.”
“Yes, I can,” said Ella. “And I will. I’ve got thousands of years of fashion to choose from, and I can make your life a nightmare if you try to fight it. Ever try to sit down in a hoop skirt?” She gave me a pointed look. “Behave, and I might consider giving you a day off every once in a while. But this is my choice, not yours. You gave yours up the moment you agreed to stay here.”
“Besides, everyone wears dresses here,” said Calliope brightly. “You can’t say you don’t like it until you give it a chance.”
Ella offered me the dress. “Your choice. Expensive, comfortable dresses you won’t notice in a day or two, or jeans that’ll stand up on their own in a week.”
Letting out a low growl in the back of my throat, I snatched it from her and stormed into the bathroom. She could make me wear it, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.
Lacing me up took nearly twenty minutes, and that was without a corset. That’s where I drew the line, and Ella wasn’t stupid enough to try to force me into that, too. The dress fit me well without me suffocating myself, and that was good enough. I didn’t need to have my chest forced up to my chin in the meantime.
Once they’d finished dressing me, Calliope sat me down and fussed with my mousy hair for a few minutes. She hummed as she worked, and any questions I tried to ask were either ignored or cut off by random bursts of song. Just as I started to wonder if it would ever end, she announced that I was done and breakfast was ready.
Breakfast. I was so ravenous that I didn’t even object as they forced my feet into a pair of heeled shoes. We would talk about those later, especially if I was expected to do stairs, but for now, as long as there was a promise of food, I’d put up with it.
Still feeling lost, I followed them out of the room, wishing I understood more about what was going on. Was this how every morning was going to go, or would I eventually be allowed to dress myself? Were they supposed to be my friends, like Calliope seemed to want to be, or were they supposed to keep an eye on me to make sure I didn’t escape?
They weren’t my most pressing questions, but those answers, I suspected, were ones only Henry could give me. In the meantime, there was still one response Calliope and Ella owed me.
“Calliope?” I said as she and Ella led me through the maze of rooms and corridors. Supposedly there was a breakfast room in the massive manor, but I wasn’t so sure I believed them. It felt like we’d been wandering for hours. “What did you mean when you asked if I were better than the last one?”