Midnight in Everwood(37)

‘Well, it hardly matters now but this is no place for a wanderer,’ the woman in plum said.

‘What were you given to believe?’ the other woman asked, distracting Marietta from that peculiar statement. She was tall and slim with dark-brown skin and hair, and eyes just as dark with emerald flecks. Gold dust was sprinkled across the bridge of her nose and cheeks, complementing the filigreed golden band across her forehead and the golden embroidery laced atop her fitted peach dress. A little chiffon cape shimmered over her ensemble. She walked over to Marietta, her golden painted lips curving into a tentative smile. ‘Do come and seat yourself; let us get better acquainted.’

Marietta disregarded the other woman’s scoff at this and allowed herself to be guided into the room.

On the far side, the frozen sugar of the palace exterior curved round the space, filling it with a gentle, opalescent light. To her right was an open archway, through which was a line of grand armoires and wide swathes of mirrors. Before her, the woman in plum was lounging on a thick carpet that spread out across the central circle of the room and on which were scattered plush cushions in jewel tones, each one larger than an armchair. Chaises longues in rich crimson and sultry indigos were perched here and there. At her left, gauzy ivory drapes hung from tall ceilings, the odd flutter revealing water and steam beyond them. It was all soft and peppermint-scented.

‘I had been led to understand that if I were to dance for the king, I should possess my own suite.’

‘Were you? Or did your own mind conjure that fact? King Gelum delights in turning our expectations against us,’ the woman in plum told her, inspecting her nails.

Marietta sank down onto a periwinkle cushion. Disappointment fatigued her.

The other woman sat beside her. ‘Do not trouble yourself, you will find us amenable to share quarters with. Even Dellara.’ She sent the woman in plum a cautionary look.

Dellara leant forwards with a wicked smile. ‘Speak for yourself. Tell us, what brought you here?’

‘I came from another world,’ Marietta said.

‘That is painfully obvious.’ Dellara scanned Marietta’s hair and torn dress that still carried a spattering of blood. Her lip curled. ‘Do tell us the details. As you can see, we are quite parched for entertainment in this suite.’

‘I suffered an unfortunate interruption while dancing and fled inside a grandfather clock – a large timepiece,’ Marietta added upon seeing the word lack register for them. ‘I walked through the back of it and into this.’ She gestured at the surrounding opulence. ‘I have never known of the existence of other worlds. I never believed in magic, though I once longed for it. When I was forging my exit from your world, I found myself lost in the Endless Forest and was besieged by the shadows that lurk there. By happenstance, Captain Legat and his soldiers liberated me from their attack and brought me here.’

‘She’s one of them,’ Dellara said in an aside to the golden woman.

Marietta frowned. ‘Excuse me?’

‘You’ve entered Everwood from one of the worlds where enchantments are confined to the rank of bedtime tales for milk-fed infants, where magic is but a story and everything is dull and straitlaced as a result,’ Dellara said. ‘Congratulations, wanderer, you’ve committed an extraordinary feat. Those worlds are rare, rarer still to find the doors within them.’

‘You may call me Marietta,’ she managed, processing those ramifications. Had Drosselmeier truly intended to dispatch her to this world? It seemed a strange kind of punishment, unless he had meant for her to perish in the Endless Forest. And if he had, how had he come to possess such a power?

‘I am Pirlipata,’ the woman dressed in gold said. ‘And this is Dellara.’ She rested a hand on the shoulder of the venomous woman in plum and black.

‘You shall address her as Princess Pirlipata,’ Dellara said.

Pirlipata gave Dellara a long look. ‘No titles are necessary. Here we are now, one and the same.’

Marietta looked at the women in bemusement, wondering at their stories though her pride was wounded that she was not the king’s sole guest. Still, dancing the nights away, one glittering ball at a time, was a dream she could not refuse. She was determined to impress the king so she might forge her own place here.

This close to Dellara, she noted her grey eyes. Deep and extraordinary. Shadows crept in the edges of her irises like smoke. Whatever Dellara was, she wasn’t entirely human. Latching onto Marietta’s sudden attention, Dellara grinned, revealing a mouthful of sharp, pointed teeth.

Pirlipata’s forehead bore a delicate crease. ‘Honestly, Dellara, the woman’s just arrived.’

Marietta chose to ease her pointe shoes off at that moment.

Pirlipata picked one up to examine it. ‘What curious shoes you have. Do you truly dance on your toes?’

‘Yes, I’ve been ballet dancing since I was a child.’ Marietta nestled her toes in the thick pile of the carpet. It submerged her feet up to her ankles.

‘How remarkable. You are talented indeed, although I must say it sounds rather painful.’

‘Sometimes it is, though I am comforted by the thought that I am creating something beautiful and perhaps a little pain is worth the joy it gives me.’

Like a predator, the notion of pain attracted Dellara’s attention. ‘Being a woman is a bloody business. Rest while you can. You shall be dancing every night now.’