"Hmm, good thought Hero. You will be under close scrutiny. Anything less than a perfect match could be noticed. If I cut it to the right the length we’ll match. And of course you'll have access to my wardrobe," Elskia mused.

She must have noticed my aggrieved expression however.

"Oh lighten up, you'll have to do better than that to shock me. I decided you'd be taking my place hours ago. Try to keep up."

I sank deeper in my chair. I was utterly defeated. In what universe was I step behind Elskia? I'd lost my touch. I was washed up, a has-been.

Elskia stifled a laugh.

"Oh that hurts! Hero stop it, I had my throat cut you know. Trying to tease an injured woman, after I brought you back to hale health. The ingratitude." She sniffed haughtily.

This was a side to Elskia I hadn't seen before. She was... making jokes? Using sarcasm? Not just an ethereal beauty, a light as distant and ephemeral as the moment of the dawn? I didn't know what to make of it... But I didn't mind not knowing.

"I'll need cosmetics," I said, retreating to practicalities, "if we're going to do this right."

"Oh umm, I never use them," Elskia at least had the decency to look embarrassed by this admission. "Will anything do? I'm sure we can procure something from one of the maids, or a visiting lady."

I considered; Doppelganger was explicit that better materials improved the disguise. I'd managed up to now by only disguising myself as figures no one would engage with too closely or avoiding interacting with close connections. The Chamberlain was unpleasant enough that being his general shape had been sufficient for servants and nobility alike to not look closely. The mudfolk I'd disguised myself as had never had their identities tested by anyone familiar to them; and Hugh, well, disguising myself as a forgettable kitchen waif was practically cheating.

The heart of it was, I had been careful to never put Doppelganger in a position to be challenged—because it wouldn't hold up. Elskia was the one of the two most important people in the Barony at the moment, under constant scrutiny, and one of the most visually distinctive people I'd ever seen.

"I'll need the absolute best if we're going to have any chance," I finally answered.

Elskia rang for one of her handmaidens with a brass bell she had at hand. With a scarce instant of delay an older woman entered the room, and immediately began to fuss over Elskia like a mother hen. I'd learned from Grimblood that the maid was the only one being permitted to care for her, to avoid any word of Elskia's condition to slip back into the castle.

"All these years, all these years my dove, and oh what they've done to you," the woman murmured while tearfully adjusting Elskia's bedding.

"There, there Nana, I'm alright. There, there," Elskia comforted her with true tenderness, "Now listen, Hero needs to ask you some questions. I want you to help him in any way you can. He is doing everything he can to help me. Can you do that for me?"

"Oh my dove, I'll do what I can. Oh my poor heart, I'll do anything I can."

I began to interrogate her on where I could source my supplies; but quickly learned that, despite appearances, the Barony was not a major hub of fashion and culture.

"Oh the ladies and the maids wear much the same. The mudfolk trade in many lovely pigments, if you like the darker shades that is. My dove hasn't the complexion for it, not that she needs it anyhow. Pure as snow. Now the Baroness, may she rest in peace, she had a fondness for finer things! Oh the Baron spent fortunes to delight your mother! She would make those highborn ladies look like balls of dung standing next to her! Oh how we laughed to see their faces shrivel up while she ate their pride! She had a temper though, you never knew it my dove, but oh did she have her temper."

I leaned back in my chair. Now that sounded promising.

"Would her cosmetics still be usable after all this time?" I asked.

Nana looked befuddled for a moment at my interruption, as her mind shifted gears from her memories back to the present.

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"Usually no, but the Baroness kept them in a coffer which slowed rot. She was very particularly about the longevity of her possessions, simply hated it whenever anything was damaged or went off," Nana answered.

Elskia had fallen asleep while Nana reminisced, obviously unable to maintain wakefulness in the soothing natter of the old woman.

"Where is the coffer now? Nana, it's exactly what I need to help Elskia."

"Oh, it would be in the Baroness' floor—which was sealed off after Elskia was born. The Baron insisted, thought it was only appropriate that it be waiting there for her, untouched, for when she wanted it. Of course that day hasn't come yet..."

I didn't doubt it. Elskia had had enough trouble with her father, trying to connect with him through an absent mother would have been daunting. I'm sure the comparisons between them would have been inevitable. And if I was reading her trust of Nana correctly, she hadn't exactly lacked for a maternal figure.

"How do I reach the Baroness' floor if it was sealed?"

"Well... I suppose the dumbwaiter would still run through that part of the keep. We used to ride it as children, when I was small! That was with the last Chamberlain...or was it two ago?"

"Thank you Nana," I gave her a gentle kiss on her brow, "Let Elskia know I'm working to help if she wakes."

"Ooh you flirt!" Nana waved me off happily, but was already turning back to Elskia as I moved away.

Nana wasn't entirely in the present I could tell, but I suspected there wasn't anyone in the world who would keep Elskia safer; and I had an appointment with a dumbwaiter, and a certain kitchen boy.

----------------------------------------

"Now Hugh, do you remember what to say if anyone asks?"

"The Page is pursuing a lead on possible nightblades hiding in the keep."

"Good lad."

With that I slid the dumbwaiter door shut and Hugh began to pull me up. The dumbwaiter used a counterweight mechanism, which enabled even Hugh to raise me with ease. The space was cramped. I'd just managed to fold myself into it, but if the coffer was a too large I'd have to send it down first. I mused on such details on the slow ascent, as the small elevator gently bumped against the wooden guide-rails that kept it in position.

I was just glad to have a simple task ahead of me, something without the pressure of immediate bodily harm.

Soon I arrived. The wood panel enclosing the dumbwaiter shaft had warped and I was forced twist into a position where I could kick it out. Freed, I clambered from my confines and began to wander the space.

It seemed as if a layer of dust had formed, gotten comfortable, started a family, and progressively thickened over the years. Under all of it were a set of rooms that might generously be called... busy. There was ample room for walking, as the interior spaces of each chamber were kept clear, but the walls and edges of each room were stacked with elaborately displayed artworks, sculptures, curios, tapestries, murals, and a dozen other categories.

A wall's worth of shelves hosted nothing but intricate orreries; another contained only carved busts of the same female face in different materials and styles. The furniture was of course all sheeted, but a peek underneath revealed a finely carved oak lounger, with decadently plump velvet cushions. I presumed everything was of similarly high quality.

The rest of the keep was shabby in comparison. The wealth on display was astonishing, but ultimately incredibly tacky. It was like a museum with a dozen competing curators, all obsessed with outshining each other. There was no care to highlighting individual pieces or creating pleasing arrangements; just a deluge of obsessive wealth, a hoard of opulence.

The oddest piece by far, however, was a transparent tube made up of odd bubble-cells that seemed to be strewn haphazardly throughout the entire floor. It thickened and thinned, twisted and twined, slumped and swelled; it was inescapably present. When I pressed it the material flexed and crinkled, reminiscent of old plastic.

I amused myself by wondering if servants had been forced to move about the rooms inside of the tube, keeping grubby hands away from the collections. There were large holes in the walls to accommodate it and leave the doorways free. Truly a bizarre object; like a massive installation at a modern art museum.

I continued to wander, seeking out actual living quarters in the mess. I was hoping the Baroness' bedroom was where I'd find the coffer (and dreading the possibility that I wouldn't).

I was quickly glancing into yet another room in my hunt—Holy shit a person! I fell on my ass like an idiot, and was scrambling to regain my feet when I realized they hadn't moved at all. I looked more closely. It was an astonishingly lifelike sculpture of a beautiful woman, the same figure as depicted in the wall of busts, but with an utterly unnatural presence. I had a niggling sense of déjà vu, and then it hit me. A clear resemblance to Elskia—and I realized this must be the Baroness.

The room itself was a tremendous walk-in closet, with racks upon racks of all those intricately specific articles of female clothing I remained largely ignorant of. My confusion was in part due to the statue being clothed, and I wondered if this was how the Baroness had trialed her clothing with a critical eye before deigning to wear it herself.

If this was the Baroness' dressing room, I was getting closer to her personal chambers. I softly closed the door and continued on. I passed by another room of shoes and then struck gold: a bedchamber. It possessed all of the luxury of the other rooms, but also seemed a central repository of the translucent tube which was bundled thickly throughout the space. But of utmost importance was the tremendous vanity placed in the room’s far corner.

I hurried the vanity and began to rifle through its drawers. I soon found a small wooden chest of rustic design. It clashed quite distinctly with the extravagant norm, but the instant I beheld it I sensed a weight to it, as if my attention was being pulled in. I opened it, and like a seal had been broken a rush of air seemed to be sucked into the crack I made. Nestled within it were a broad array of powders, creams, pigments, and oils. Exactly what I needed.

I closed the lid again and, as if this had triggered something within the coffer, a flush of air pressure flowed from it. Vacuum and darkness, and if it's cool touch was any indication it also kept things to a stabilizing temperature. An amazing little artifact. I bundled it in the satchel I'd brought and turned to go—oh shit another statue!

I managed to keep my feet this time. Another figure of the Baroness had been positioned in the bedroom, one I must have missed in my rush to get to the vanity. No big deal. I made to leave, still feeling vaguely off-put by something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

I turned and paused. There were my footprints leading into the room, very typical, very normal; and there next to them, was another set. Less normal, less typical. Another thought that had been rolling around in my head for last few seconds suddenly crystallized into terrifying clarity. Why would two statues be wearing the same dress?

I slowly looked back at the Baroness and, to my horror, the Baroness looked back at me.