Sleeping Beauty (10 page)

First, he'd let her decide about the school—even if he didn't know what her mother had planned—and even more telling, tonight he'd invited her to a real grown-up event. She felt sure that, with enough persuasion, he'd change his mind and realize that she was old enough to train as a slayer. Otherwise, if the curse happened, she'd end up defenseless, all alone in the dark.

Jenny, her dressing maid, slipped a dress over her head and laced up the back. Lucette turned and scowled into the mirror. Pink with tiny white roses, the dress seemed better suited to the delicate girls she'd seen from the shielded viewing galleries during her parents' parties. The dress looked ridiculous on her, like putting lace on a wooden spike. “Are you sure this is the dress my father wanted me to wear?”

“Yes, and it's very pretty.” Jenny wrapped the bright pink sash around on Lucette's waist and tied a bow. While her invitation to this
party made her feel grown-up and important, this dress made Lucette feel like an idiot.

Lucette swiveled and then winced when she saw the size of the bow that flopped down over her hips, its tails hanging over her flat backside. She ran her hands down the bodice of the dress, which was scooped down in front and was no doubt meant to show off assets she lacked.

“Don't worry,” Jenny said, pulling the ties in back tighter so the bust line didn't sag so much. “We'll add some crinolines under the skirt to give you some shape. And any day now you'll fill out that bust and you'll be fighting off the boys.”

“I don't want to fight off boys.” Lucette struggled not to pout. She wasn't a baby and reminded herself not to act like one.

“Oh, so you want them to catch you?” Jenny winked.

Lucette furrowed her brow.“That's not what I meant.” She bit down on her tongue to keep from saying that she didn't like boys, that she found them noisy and rude and smelly and distasteful.

“You'll change your mind soon enough,” Jenny said. “Now sit down so I can fix your hair.”

Half an hour later, with her hair piled up like a complicated puzzle, Lucette walked along the corridor she'd been scolded for running down as a child. A guard held her hand as she struggled to stay upright on the high heels Jenny had insisted she wear. She couldn't comprehend why grown-ups wore these things. She much preferred to be in shoes designed for running and leaping.

But if putting on this dumb dress and shoes would please her father, she could suffer through wearing them for a few hours. Making him happy would help butter him up, and she needed all the parental coaxing she could muster to convince her father to let her learn some
slayer skills. Part of her believed her father's claim that he could fix everything and find a way to make the vampire queen lift the curse—or prevent it altogether. But if there was even a chance she might end up alone in the night someday, she needed training. Surely she could make her father understand.

She also hoped that once he saw her tonight, the truth about this dress would be obvious. She wasn't the type of girl suited to being dressed up in anything frilly. She was too tall, too skinny, too pale, her features too severe and boyish. Even worse, with the makeup that Jenny had rubbed onto her cheeks and lips, Lucette felt she looked like a clown.

The guards opened the back doors to the reception room and bright light poured out toward her. She blinked and raised her hand to her eyes to adjust to the light.

“The Princess Lucette,” a deep male voice said, and someone nudged her forward. She teetered on the ridiculous shoes, her eyes focused down to see where she was going, and prayed she wouldn't fall flat on her face. A collective gasp rose in the room, followed by polite applause. A huge crowd was gathered in the reception hall, and at the front of the crowd were dozens of boys. What the heck was going on?

“For goodness sake, straighten up,” her father said as he stepped next to her. Her mother stepped up to her other side.

“I can barely walk in these shoes,” she said to her mother, who looked delicate and elegant in a pale blue gown. “They pinch.”

“I told you it was too soon for this,” her mother snapped at her father. Lucette bit her lip and felt guilt drench through her. Even while trying to prevent it from happening, she'd caused yet more harsh words between her parents.

Her father tucked her gloved hand through the crook of his arm, the way he did with her mother at big events, and pulled her forward to the raised platform that was covered with vases full of daisies. She sneezed, and a collective twitter rose from the crowd, but just as quickly died down. A fire rose inside her. They were laughing at her, and she could only imagine how red her cheeks looked now through the makeup. She raised a hand to wipe off some of the rouge.

“Stop that.” Her mother grabbed her hand and held onto it. “You'll ruin your gloves.”

Lucette fought the impulse to turn and run. As if running in those shoes—or with the crinolines under her heavy skirt—were even possible. She felt as if the bulky clothes had doubled her weight.

“What's going on?” she asked her mother.

Before her mother could respond, her father raised his hands to silence the crowd. “Thank you for coming this evening,” he said, his deep voice failing to reassure Lucette the way it normally did. “It gives me great pleasure to stand before you all today and introduce my daughter, the Princess Lucette.”

Polite applause ensued, along with less polite hoots from some of the boys. Squirming under the itchy crinoline, Lucette turned to her mother to ask for a better explanation, but her mother raised a finger to her lips.

Her father gestured to his left. “Young men wishing to express their desire to court my daughter, please form a line over here.”

Noise filled the room as a hundred boys stampeded into line. They pushed and shoved for a few minutes before settling down to stand at attention.

“What does he mean, ‘court me'?” Lucette asked her mother.

“I told him you're still too young.” Her mother shook her head. “You've got three years before you're sixteen. There's still time.”

“Still time for what?” Her stomach clenched. Surely her mother didn't mean she should
marry
before turning sixteen. Lucette didn't even want to
date
.

Her father put his hand on her shoulder. “Come, Lucette. One of these boys is bound to be your true love.”

“What?” She tensed and stared at her father. This had to be a joke.

He leaned down toward her and his strong, dark brows drew together. “It's time you started meeting eligible young men, Lucette. It's important you find true love, and there's no time like the present.”

“But—”

Her father raised his hand to silence her protests and then stepped over to the line of teenaged boys.

“Mom, do I have to do this?” Lucette asked. “I don't want to. And I feel so stupid in this dress.” Terror grabbed hold of her. Would these boys want to kiss her? Yuck.

She tried to back up, but her mother slipped an arm around her waist. “I know this is ridiculous.” Her voice was tense. “Just say hello and let them kiss your glove. I couldn't stop your father from doing this, but I'll help you get through it, I promise.”

Her parents were already divided on this, so if she made a fuss and ran, it would give them something else to fight about. Lucette drew a long breath and resolved to grin and bear it. Staring down at the line of boys—most of them shorter than her, which made her even more self-conscious—Lucette twisted her toe on the floor and hunched her shoulders. Her knees trembled as she studied the line of suitors.

Her father beamed as he greeted each of the boys standing in the
line, shaking their hands and asking polite questions. He turned a few away, but she wished he'd be more discerning. From the looks of these boys, it seemed as if her father would deem anyone suitable as long as he had a pulse.

Her father led a pudgy, pimply boy up the two stairs to the platform. On display at the top, Lucette squirmed in humiliation.

Two hours later, Lucette stomped out of the reception, keeping her head down to hide the scowl on her face. Her mother had stayed behind to talk to her father.

Great. Another fight.

Even if it was her fault, so be it. She was done trying to keep the peace in this family. Done with being a pawn in their games. Letting those boys ogle her had been beyond horrible, and both of her parents were responsible for tonight's humiliations. It would never happen again. Not if she could find a way to stop it.

After a guard led her back to her bedroom and Jenny helped her out of her hideous dress, Lucette stared at the offending garment, wanting to stomp on it, or better yet, shred it.

Her scissors! She'd smuggled a pair out of the library a few months ago. She pulled a book off her shelf and opened it to reveal the scissors hidden in a cavity. After removing the scissors, she grabbed the dress off her rack and narrowed her eyes. She'd make sure she never had to wear this ugly thing again.

Sitting cross-legged on the carpet in front of a huge mirror, she pulled the dress onto her lap, but as she was about to make the first
cut, she glanced up at her reflection and then wiped the back of her gloved hand across her still-rouged cheek. What was the point of destroying the gown? It would just be replaced, perhaps with another one even more hideous.

Rebellious thoughts flooding through her, she pulled a chunk of her long, thick hair from the fussy updo Jenny had fashioned and held it to the side. Then using the dull scissors, she chopped and sawed close to her scalp.

Holding the nearly three-foot-long tail of hair in her hand, her insides stirred with excitement. She'd really done it. This would show her father and make him sorry for all he'd put her through. She chopped off another section, then another, until almost half of her long hair was gone, leaving ragged chunks about an inch from her head.

The door to her bedroom opened. “Lucette!” her mother cried. “What have you done?”

She tucked the contraband scissors under her leg. Her mother ran over, grabbed her by the shoulders, and tried to pull her up. But Lucette was both taller and stronger than her mother, so the queen's attempts were futile. Lucette curled her body over, sobbing, ashamed.

Her mother sat down beside her and rubbed her back. “Why, darling, why?”

“I wanted to prove to Dad that I'm not pretty enough to date boys. They only pretended to like me tonight because I'm a princess. It was horrible. I wanted to make sure he didn't make me do that again.”

“Oh, Lucette.” Her mother ran her hand over the scarred remains of her hair. “You
are
beautiful, you'll see that someday, and there's a reason your father wants you to find love.”

“Why? So I can make sure there's an heir to the throne?”

“No, Lucette. So the curse will lift. You need to prove you found true love.”

Lucette snapped her head up. “You were serious about that?” She shook her head, vaguely remembering her mother telling her something about the curse lifting if she proved she'd found love, but she'd been more focused on the part about being alone in the night with vampires.

Her mother pulled her face to hers and kissed Lucette's tear-stained cheek. “I wanted to wait until you were older and showed interest in boys before talking more about this.”

Lucette looked up to her mother, who wiped the tears off her cheeks, her soft fingers such a comfort. Hope flooded inside Lucette. “How do I find love and how do I prove it?”

Her mother picked up a chunk of Lucette's hair from the floor and pursed her lips as she set it aside. “I'm not sure, darling. There's no formula for love. But you'll know when it happens.”