Chapitre 12: Chapter 12
"To enstare a beast, you must understand it's feast."
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"A Ball?." Belladonna repeated.
"Yes," Headstone replied, his voice low. "Lord Valitis invited me, and I'm to bring a companion, if possible."
Belladonna nodded understandingly. "But there's a problem."
Headstone raised an eyebrow. "Which is?"
Belladonna's gaze fell. "I lack a suitable gown, and I'm clueless about hairstyles and ball etiquette. I'd stick out like a church rat among the elite."
Headstone tapped his feet against the snow, deep in thought. He needed Belladonna to attend; she was the only one who shared his sense of adventure and not just that, her curiosity about the mansion served as a whole new way of fulfilling her thoughts.
"I have an idea," Headstone said, snapping his fingers. He eyed the nearby proud women preparing their tent. "Let's ask for their help."
Approaching the group, Headstone greetd them warmly. "Good day, ladies."
Their apparent leader, a poised woman, smiled. "Mister Headstone! What brings you here?"
"Do you have a suitable gown for Her?" Headstone asked.
The woman's gaze shifted to Belladonna. "Aunt Mae's niece, the blonde?"
A hint of envy flickered in her eyes as she took in Belladonna's beauty and aura. "Okay, I'll help, but only because you asked, Headstone. And since it's a one-day ball, I'll gather the girls to assist with her transformation."
After minutes of silence, She said, "Come here."
Belladonna approached the women, their scrutinizing gazes left her deep in thoughts. As they deliberated on her attire, their leader broke the silence.
"Will you step into our tent, or would you prefer to undress in front of the entire town?."
Belladonna quickly entered the surprisingly spacious tent, where thick blankets covered the snow. Clothes of various styles and textures lay scattered, awaiting organization.
The six women encircled her, their eyes assessing her.
"What would you like to wear?" the leader asked. "Green or red?"
Before Belladonna could respond, another woman chimed in, "Why wear boots? For traction in the snow, I suppose?"
Yet another voice followed, "You're a mess! Do you expect to attend the ball with a ponytail, wind-kissed face, and snow-covered clothes? No makeup to enhance your complexion or jewelry to add sparkle? This isn't a townfolk's dance, dear. The elites will be gathering, and you... well, you smell like a wet pig!"
Belladonna's eyelids narrowed, her patience wearing thin. The Proud Bevy's reputation for sharp tongues was well-deserved.
The leader commanded, "Let's begin!" and the five women swiftly surrounded Belladonna. Before she could protest, they gently yet stripped her.
First, they slipped on a delicate, ivory-colored chemise, its silky fabric hugging her curves. Next came a layered petticoat, its crisp tulle and lace trim rustling softly. Another layer followed, a fitted, boned corset that cinched at her waist.
Belladonna felt her mobility dwindling with each added layer. "How am I supposed to move?" she wondered.
Then, the women presented the crochet, a tightly woven, bone-stayed corset designed to cinch her waist to an impossible diameter.
"Make it tight, I want to hear her gasp with each breath!" the leader instructed.
Belladonna shot them a warning glance. "One tightening is sufficient. I'm not a reed to be squeezed into an unnatural shape."
The leader smiled mischievously. "Just a little tighter, my dear. You want to impress the Lord, don't you?."
Belladonna's glare deepened.
Finally, the women fastened the crochet in place. Next, they carefully draped a magnificent, emerald green silk ball gown over her undergarments. The gown's fitted bodice showcased her curves, while its full, flowing skirt cascaded down her legs.
Intricate, silver embroidery adorned the gown's hem and sleeves, matching the crochet's delicate patterns. A delicate, beaded lace trim framed the neckline, adding a touch of whimsy.
With the gown in place, the women stepped back to admire their handiwork.
"Just to be clear, I'm not impressing anyone!" Belladonna said, her glare not fading.
The leader shrugged. "Whatever. Let's move on to her hair."
Belladonna's golden blonde locks were transformed into an elegant updo, styled in a "French twist" with loose strands framing her face. The leader carefully secured the hairstyle with a stunning hairpin, shaped like a Rose.
"This hairpin cost me 500 gold coins," the leader said, her eyes sparkling with pride, then seriousness. "You'd better not lose it."
"Sure—"
"If it gets lost, then you too as well, get lost with it."
Belladonna gulped.
Next, they applied a subtle dusting of powder and blush to her cheeks, accentuating her natural glow. A bold, crimson lipstick colored her lips.
Around her neck, they fastened a heavy, silver necklace adorned with delicate filigree, matching her earrings. The lighter, silver earrings dangled elegantly, complementing her overall ensemble.
Finally, they slipped long, white gloves onto her hands, protecting her skin from the cold.
The women stepped back, awestruck by Belladonna's transformation.
"By the gods..." one whispered.
The leader's eyes widened. "You're... breathtaking."
Belladonna's gaze met hers, as she observed herself Infront of the mirror. A mix of gratitude and surprise in her eyes.
"Is everything ready?" Headstone called out.
The leader stepped out, dabbing at her eyes. "She looks like a goddess!"
Belladonna stepped out, and soon, the town folks setting up the tent couldn't help but stare. Jaw-dropped, they gazed at her transformation.
Headstone scowled. "Why draw attention to ourselves?"
The leader scoffed, "Just because you're dressed simply with those rotten old looking clothes, doesn't mean she can't shine! Besides, someone has to represent our town's beauty."
Headstone knew arguing with her was futile. His mind wandered to Lord Valitis, rumored to be a vampire. Would Belladonna's stunning appearance captivate him? The thought unsettled Headstone.
"How did you acquire these fine clothes?" he asked. "They're certainly not from around here."
The leader smirked. "I have my ways." With that, she disappeared into her tent.
Belladonna who admired the gown, wished Ferguson or Aunt Mae could see her now. Especially Ferguson – she was sure he'd be mesmerized.
"Mister Headstone, how will we get to the mansion?" she asked.
Headstone smiled wryly. "We'll trek, of course."
Belladonna's face fell. "In these clothes?"
Headstone chuckled. "I was joking. Lord Valitis sent a carriage for us. It's waiting by the bridge, just a two-minute walk."
Belladonna's face brightened. "That's reassuring."
As they prepared to leave, the townspeople's whispers and gazes lingered on Belladonna's breathtaking beauty and Rosemary couldn't help but smile. She had always seen a glow in her friend's niece, but this, was something else.
Meanwhile, as they left, Ferguson eyes slowly opened.
*****
They approached the bridge, Headstone's instructions grew urgent.
"Belladonna, please, don't wander off. Keep a low profile. Avoid befriending strangers, and whatever you do, don't reveal your sword skills."
Belladonna nodded, perplexed by the last warning. Why would she draw a sword at a ball?
Headstone continued, his voice laced with concern. "Be cautious. Don't follow me. Keep your distance from the nobles. Stay in the shadows and remain silent. Just nod, don't speak."
Hearing all these warning, she nodded. Practicing the last.
As they reached the bridge, a ominous black carriage awaited them. The henchman, seated atop, sent shivers down Belladonna's spine. His youthful face seemed mismatched with his deep, gravelly voice.
"I'll take you to the mansion," he growled.
His fingers, adorned with a skull ring, tossed a mask toward them. "Wear these. And spray this." A small bottle containing purple liquid followed.
"Conceals your blood... freshness," he muttered, his gaze lingering on Belladonna. "Especially yours, my lady."
His voice sent shivers down her spine. The henchman's features seemed chiseled from nightmares: sunken eyes, pale skin, and lips curled into a perpetual snarl.
Headstone nodded curtly. "We'll comply."
This was the first time he heard the Henchman speak. The other day when they first met, he didn't say a word. Maybe, that time wasn't a good day for him, Headstone thought.
The henchman's gaze locked onto Headstone, making the Man think he had heard his thoughts. But the words which came next made Headstone frown.
"Lord Valitis awaits your arrival, Mister."
Cadeaux
-- Cadeau
reçu État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone