Space Cadets
seventeen
Eliza felt like she’d swallowed lead as she stood nervously before the royal tailors, waiting to see her dress for the ball. Her sisters and mother were beside themselves with excitement but Eliza dreaded that she’d see another mint green, puff-sleeved monstrosity. Why people seemed to feel compelled to dress her like a child she’d never know. Gabriella received the design for her dress first, and gasped delightedly at the silky, sea foam affair. Jocelyn and Bianca almost shrieked over their own gowns, one a most becoming shade of lavender and the other a pale color that looked like liquid gold. Eliza couldn’t imagine the shade looking good on anyone besides Bianca.
Eliza wished she was back on Corran making blanket forts as the seamstress walked towards her. Please don’t let it be mint green, she silently pleaded. The seamstress smiled at her and revealed the gown with a flourish. Eliza’s worry melted into shock. The dress was neither green nor puffy. It was a shade that fell somewhere between deep purple and black, and it looked nothing like her sisters’ dresses. It left her arms and a good portion of back bare, and had a slit up the left side that was just shy of seeming inappropriate. Tiny blue and white crystals were scattered across the fabric.
“Do you like it?” the seamstress asked gently, after Eliza had gaped at the dress wordlessly for about three solid minutes.
“It… it’s a beautiful dress,” Eliza replied. “I don’t see how I can possibly wear it. It’s too sophisticated for me.”
“Don’t be silly,” the seamstress laughed. “Come on, let’s put it on so we can make any necessary adjustments to get it just right.”
Eliza followed dutifully, though she was still nervous to put the dress on. She was relieved that for once no one was trying to make her dress like her sisters, and the dress really was beautiful. And not at all puffy. But it still seemed too lovely for Eliza to actually wear. The seamstress handed her the dress and Eliza put it on carefully, adjusting the strap that went up around her neck. She stepped toward the mirror, nervous all over again. The dress needed to be hemmed slightly and taken in a bit at the waist, but otherwise was a custom fit.
“Just wait until your hair and makeup are done too,” the seamstress said. “The full effect will be absolutely stunning.”
Eliza doubted it but didn’t have the heart to say so. No surprise, her family looked glowing and perfect in their gowns. Eliza tried not to sigh. Why did I get stuck at the shallow end of the gene pool? she wondered grouchily. Still, the dress didn’t make her look like a ten year old flower girl, at least. She had to admit she looked very much like an adult in the clingy silk fabric. But she still felt vaguely nauseous about wearing it to a fancy ball, where people would actually see her when they weren’t gawking at her sisters.
Fitting over, the seamstresses took the dresses to make the final adjustments and the Rothchild women filed out into the hall where their guards waited. Jocelyn’s guard was in the middle of telling some outrageous story about his time in the military when they stopped out, and the other guards choked back their laughter and straightened up, all business again. Colin nudged Eliza lightly as they walked away.
“What’s with the face? You look like you just swallowed old milk. Is the dress that bad?”
“The dress is fine,” Eliza sighed. “I just don’t want to go.”
“Come on, it’ll be kind of fun, right? I hear they serve great food. And there’ll be another fireworks display.”
“Yeah,” Eliza agreed half heartedly. “I guess.”
She spent the next two days nervous and queasy, at once dreading the usual feeling of being invisible, and petrified that she was going to be noticed for tripping over her dress and making a fool of herself. She even forgot to try and annoy Colin, just letting him follow her while she wandered around the city and talked way too much to try and suppress her jitters. But there was no getting out of the royal ball and so she was forced to sit still while a stylist primped her for the occasion. She couldn’t even see what they were doing; she had to wait until she was made up and dressed to see the so-called “full effect.”
She found herself absentmindedly toying with the necklace Colin had given her, which gave her something to do with her hands and was oddly calming. Her mother gave her a look, frowning slightly.
“You’re not going to wear that with the dress, are you? I got you that lovely little amethyst teardrop pendant, it’s much better suited to your gown.”
Eliza sighed. “Yeah, I’ll take it off,” she lied. Once her mother disappeared into the party, the necklace was going back on. Eliza rose on legs of jelly when it was time to go. But first she was shepherded to the full length mirror. Her sisters beamed at their reflections, their impossibly blonde hair curled and pinned into elaborate updos. Eliza’s stylist had skipped dramatic bouncing curls and simply pinned her hair up by her neck with glittering little pins, letting some wavy tendrils fall around her face. The makeup too was different from her sisters, with more subtle gold shimmer on her eyelids and dark lipstick. Eliza was oddly touched that for once, she wasn’t being dragged to a formal event in a get up that wasn’t designed for her. But it didn’t ease the unpleasant flutter in her stomach.
Her mother had to practically shove her toward the door and Eliza felt lightheaded as she stepped into the hall where her father and the guards all waited. Eliza hung back, hiding behind her sisters’ big curls and swishy skirts.
“Do come along, Eliza, my dear. We don’t want to be late,” her mother chided. Her sisters moved aside, making her visible to everyone in the hall and Eliza thought she might throw up. All eyes landed on her and her ears went red. Thankfully her family set off up the hall toward the ballroom and their guards followed them, though she saw Jocelyn and Bianca’s guards shoot her one last quick look and she tried not to fidget, knowing they must be comparing her to her sisters. Colin waited for her to start walking but she stood rooted to the spot until he gently touched her arm.
Eliza made her feet move and Colin gave her a look somewhere between amusement and concern. “You have that sour milk look on your face again. What’s the matter?”
“I hate going to these things,” she mumbled. “I don’t like going anywhere with my sisters when we have to get dressed up. They’re so blonde and annoyingly pretty. And I’m just…me.”
“So?”
“I wouldn’t expect you to get it,” Eliza huffed. “You’re blond and pretty too. There’s going to be a swarm of Zenian girls waiting to dance with you.” For some reason she found the thought deeply irritating. As they approached the entrance to the ballroom she clenched her fist tighter around the Sigil pendant, which she had smuggled with her after her mother made her take it off.
“Colin… there’s going to be a lot of security here tonight,” she said slowly. “You don’t have to go sit in a corner with me all night, you know. There’s trained guards everywhere. You can go have some actual fun.”
They approached the entrance to the ballroom and the guards had to fall back slightly to allow the Rothchild family to enter first. When Eliza was sure no one was looking, she slipped the necklace back on, securing the clasp and tucking the pendant down her dress. Then she lined up with her family as they were announced, forced herself not to grimace, and prayed she wouldn’t trip down the stairs.
Eliza wished she was back on Corran making blanket forts as the seamstress walked towards her. Please don’t let it be mint green, she silently pleaded. The seamstress smiled at her and revealed the gown with a flourish. Eliza’s worry melted into shock. The dress was neither green nor puffy. It was a shade that fell somewhere between deep purple and black, and it looked nothing like her sisters’ dresses. It left her arms and a good portion of back bare, and had a slit up the left side that was just shy of seeming inappropriate. Tiny blue and white crystals were scattered across the fabric.
“Do you like it?” the seamstress asked gently, after Eliza had gaped at the dress wordlessly for about three solid minutes.
“It… it’s a beautiful dress,” Eliza replied. “I don’t see how I can possibly wear it. It’s too sophisticated for me.”
“Don’t be silly,” the seamstress laughed. “Come on, let’s put it on so we can make any necessary adjustments to get it just right.”
Eliza followed dutifully, though she was still nervous to put the dress on. She was relieved that for once no one was trying to make her dress like her sisters, and the dress really was beautiful. And not at all puffy. But it still seemed too lovely for Eliza to actually wear. The seamstress handed her the dress and Eliza put it on carefully, adjusting the strap that went up around her neck. She stepped toward the mirror, nervous all over again. The dress needed to be hemmed slightly and taken in a bit at the waist, but otherwise was a custom fit.
“Just wait until your hair and makeup are done too,” the seamstress said. “The full effect will be absolutely stunning.”
Eliza doubted it but didn’t have the heart to say so. No surprise, her family looked glowing and perfect in their gowns. Eliza tried not to sigh. Why did I get stuck at the shallow end of the gene pool? she wondered grouchily. Still, the dress didn’t make her look like a ten year old flower girl, at least. She had to admit she looked very much like an adult in the clingy silk fabric. But she still felt vaguely nauseous about wearing it to a fancy ball, where people would actually see her when they weren’t gawking at her sisters.
Fitting over, the seamstresses took the dresses to make the final adjustments and the Rothchild women filed out into the hall where their guards waited. Jocelyn’s guard was in the middle of telling some outrageous story about his time in the military when they stopped out, and the other guards choked back their laughter and straightened up, all business again. Colin nudged Eliza lightly as they walked away.
“What’s with the face? You look like you just swallowed old milk. Is the dress that bad?”
“The dress is fine,” Eliza sighed. “I just don’t want to go.”
“Come on, it’ll be kind of fun, right? I hear they serve great food. And there’ll be another fireworks display.”
“Yeah,” Eliza agreed half heartedly. “I guess.”
She spent the next two days nervous and queasy, at once dreading the usual feeling of being invisible, and petrified that she was going to be noticed for tripping over her dress and making a fool of herself. She even forgot to try and annoy Colin, just letting him follow her while she wandered around the city and talked way too much to try and suppress her jitters. But there was no getting out of the royal ball and so she was forced to sit still while a stylist primped her for the occasion. She couldn’t even see what they were doing; she had to wait until she was made up and dressed to see the so-called “full effect.”
She found herself absentmindedly toying with the necklace Colin had given her, which gave her something to do with her hands and was oddly calming. Her mother gave her a look, frowning slightly.
“You’re not going to wear that with the dress, are you? I got you that lovely little amethyst teardrop pendant, it’s much better suited to your gown.”
Eliza sighed. “Yeah, I’ll take it off,” she lied. Once her mother disappeared into the party, the necklace was going back on. Eliza rose on legs of jelly when it was time to go. But first she was shepherded to the full length mirror. Her sisters beamed at their reflections, their impossibly blonde hair curled and pinned into elaborate updos. Eliza’s stylist had skipped dramatic bouncing curls and simply pinned her hair up by her neck with glittering little pins, letting some wavy tendrils fall around her face. The makeup too was different from her sisters, with more subtle gold shimmer on her eyelids and dark lipstick. Eliza was oddly touched that for once, she wasn’t being dragged to a formal event in a get up that wasn’t designed for her. But it didn’t ease the unpleasant flutter in her stomach.
Her mother had to practically shove her toward the door and Eliza felt lightheaded as she stepped into the hall where her father and the guards all waited. Eliza hung back, hiding behind her sisters’ big curls and swishy skirts.
“Do come along, Eliza, my dear. We don’t want to be late,” her mother chided. Her sisters moved aside, making her visible to everyone in the hall and Eliza thought she might throw up. All eyes landed on her and her ears went red. Thankfully her family set off up the hall toward the ballroom and their guards followed them, though she saw Jocelyn and Bianca’s guards shoot her one last quick look and she tried not to fidget, knowing they must be comparing her to her sisters. Colin waited for her to start walking but she stood rooted to the spot until he gently touched her arm.
Eliza made her feet move and Colin gave her a look somewhere between amusement and concern. “You have that sour milk look on your face again. What’s the matter?”
“I hate going to these things,” she mumbled. “I don’t like going anywhere with my sisters when we have to get dressed up. They’re so blonde and annoyingly pretty. And I’m just…me.”
“So?”
“I wouldn’t expect you to get it,” Eliza huffed. “You’re blond and pretty too. There’s going to be a swarm of Zenian girls waiting to dance with you.” For some reason she found the thought deeply irritating. As they approached the entrance to the ballroom she clenched her fist tighter around the Sigil pendant, which she had smuggled with her after her mother made her take it off.
“Colin… there’s going to be a lot of security here tonight,” she said slowly. “You don’t have to go sit in a corner with me all night, you know. There’s trained guards everywhere. You can go have some actual fun.”
They approached the entrance to the ballroom and the guards had to fall back slightly to allow the Rothchild family to enter first. When Eliza was sure no one was looking, she slipped the necklace back on, securing the clasp and tucking the pendant down her dress. Then she lined up with her family as they were announced, forced herself not to grimace, and prayed she wouldn’t trip down the stairs.