The tailor was a middle-aged man, extraordinarily tall and thin as a plank. His gestures were too exaggerated, and the way he spoke was ominous. His eyes measured Hope, looking as if she was an unattractive cake that had to be remade before it could be presented to the guests.
"Oh, dear, where shall we start?" The clothier asked himself, waving his hands in the air like he could do magic. "I have a few dresses I want you to try, and we will see then what we should modify on the next ones. But before that, you should settle into your new corset."
What was this madman talking about? Corset? It sounded like a dog leash. Hope didn't even know how right she was.
Ayala accompanied her to the next room to help her put on the corset. Hope didn't understand what all the fuss was about. After she got naked and put the corset on, Ayala started to tighten and bind the straps. Hope had never experienced such painful and embarrassing moments at the same time. She expelled all the oxygen from her lungs, and she felt her tummy touching the spine. Hope couldn't help but be impressed by the strength shown by Ayala.
Once she got back in the main room, where the tailor was waiting, Hope received a red strapless dress. Ayala helped her get in this new garment that stood put around her body without shoulder straps or other visible means of support beside her breasts.
"Oh, dear," the tailor gasped. "I didn't realize you have such a large chest. It almost gets over the corset; that wasn't to be expected from such a frail girl. Note to self! Design a new dress with less cleavage."
"Yeah, sure, go ahead and cover up all the good parts, but can we lessen the corset? It is driving me nuts. I can't breathe; my whole body is aching from this continuous fight." Hope was gasping for air.
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The meeting with the tailor went on for several hours, and Hope missed lunch altogether. The beautician was waiting for her already, and all the other classes were postponed for the day after tomorrow.
Hope was hungry and tired. If someone asked her what she wanted more, eating or sleeping, she couldn't choose. But no one asked. Today, she had to do all these things without any consideration for her physiological needs.
To her surprise, Tamara, the beautician, was a person she liked. Her hands were soft, and she gently handled Hope's hair and face. For the first time, Hope thought she knew how her pets felt when she was caressing them, trying to make them feel safe and at peace.
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Tamara used pieces of black coal to give a dark contour to Hope's deer eyes and ocher lipstick to transform the lips into a bloody color of sexual desire. The beautician refrained from using the white lead powder because Hope's skin was already pretty fair.
When Hope looked into the mirror, she couldn't believe that was her reflection. Tamara had raised her reddish-brown hair in a messy bun that revealed her long, attractive neck, framed by a pair of long pearl earrings. Hope was actually really looking like a lady!
"Lady Hope!" Ayala rushed into the room, breathing heavily. "Lord Drake announced you must attend the ball in the great hall tonight."
The sun had almost set, and darkness was creeping every corner. It seemed a bit late to announce a ball within the next hour or so, but you should expect anything from Drake. Hope hated predictability. Her voice was eager. "Tamara, would you help me with my make-up after I get dressed?"
"You don't need to ask!" Tamara smiled softly. "I will come with Ayala and help you get dressed."
Both Tamara and Ayala were excited as if they were the ones to attend the ball. Their attitude was exhilarating, making Hope wanting to do this even though, deep down, her instinct was screaming that she could get hurt. Hope's gut feeling was that she was going to this ball with her soul on a platter, displaying it openly, and everyone could pinch it or jolt her hand to drop it on the floor.
All three went to scour through the dresses the tailor left behind. They all agreed to a thin blue satin dress. As Hope was a free spirit, she immediately loved that dress, and she wanted to wear it without that awful corset. The garment had a single thin cord tied at the nape of the neck, and the back was completely bare.
Darkness had already filled every corner of the realm when Hope was ready for the ball. Even though they both witnessed her entire transformation, Tamara and Ayala were stunned. Hope exuded so much elegance, beauty, and refinement, looking like a nymph in the story which had come to enchant the entire audience.
"Here is the last piece you need for your outfit to be complete," Tamara whispered, showing a pair of light blue high-heeled sandals. Hope thought she would stumble and fall at first, but she was pretty athletic, learning to walk on her toes since she was little.
It was fun getting ready for the ball, being a new experience for Hope to be surrounded by girls and talking beauty stuff. Even though she couldn't believe it, she was eager to get to the ball. A night of beauty and new thrills can be exciting, and she couldn't stop to wonder how Drake would look in a tuxedo.
Every other day, this hour would have meant the time for sleep, but now it was only the beginning of the night. She felt so good she thought nothing could go wrong. Or could it? After all, Hope knew she was no Cinderella, just a wildling in disguise.
Hope had always imagined the worst-case scenario. This way, nothing terrible takes you by surprise, and, thus, everything except the worst-case scenario is better than what you have imagined.