Chapter 140 The Goddess in the Glass
\[Lilia\]
My stomach twisted and retched as if someone had pushed their hands through my mouth and pulled my organs out. My fingers curled around the edge of the sink, nails digging into the porcelain surface until the tips went white. I felt as if my very soul was being wrung dry.
My vision blurred, my ears rang with a high-pitched drone, and I couldn't stop the uncontrollable flow of tears streaming down my cheeks. It was a hollow, horrible feeling, spilling my guts down the drain. The acrid tang of bile lingered in my mouth as I heaved out the final contents of my stomach, finally allowing my lungs to gasp for a refill of air.
Why am I feeling this sick? Was it the spaghetti? Even the mango juice I requested for dinner tasted sour, identical to the revolting glass I’d had on the plane.
A knock came through the door, followed by a concerned voice. “Signorina Lilia, are you alright?”
I turned the tap on, rinsing my mouth to clear the acidic aftertaste before responding to the woman outside. “Yes, Linda, I'm fine. I'll be out in a second.”
There was no verbal response, but I felt the weight of her presence recede from the other side of the door. Closing my eyes, I inhaled sharply and splashed cold water on my face to freshen my stress-beaten countenance. The ball is set to start at eight in the evening; it’s roughly five now, and the marathon of preparation hasn't even truly begun.
Outside this bathroom, the mansion—no, the palace—is a hive of activity. Maids and organizers are neck-deep in final touches, nerves stuck up their asses as they scramble to ensure tonight is perfect. I had begged Pa to cancel this blasted ball, but he refused to budge, claiming it was the least he could do to introduce his long-lost granddaughter to the world. Fortunately, he granted my request to make it a masquerade. At least I can hide behind a mask.
I gave my reflection one last glance before vacating the restroom. My stomach felt cavernous, and I was craving something I couldn't pinpoint—something salty, perhaps? I knew it wasn't a good time to eat while I was shitting bricks with sheer uneasiness.
It has been two weeks since we arrived in Italy. When I say Pa lives in a palace, I am not exaggerating. It feels like I’ve traveled back in time; I’m a Duchess about to be presented to a prince, surrounded by servants waiting for me to sneeze so they can wipe my nose. Sometimes the constant attention aggravates me.
Italy is renowned for its architectural wonders, and this estate is a masterpiece. My room is a Victorian dream—light blue walls with gold accents of swirling vine designs that climb to a ceiling centered on a crystal chandelier hanging like frozen teardrops. It’s a Cinderella-themed cage, complete with a four-poster bed and heavy drapes.
I haven’t had a chance to venture far. My schedule has been a military-grade rehearsal of waltz steps and etiquette. Now, at the corner of the room, stands a headless mannequin donning the gown I’m to wear tonight.
I tightened the cinch of my pink satin robe and strutted toward it, grazing my fingers over the beads intricately embedded into the expensive red fabric. It has a plunging neckline that extends nearly to my navel and a revealing back held only by two thin shoulder straps. The billowing skirt is imprinted with an ombre of red to obsidian black beads, shimmering like embers in the dim light.
“The makeup artists are here, signorina.”
“Let them in, Linda.”
The door opened, and a half-dozen queer-looking team members entered in elaborate clothing, sashaying their hips as they sauntered in with huge attaché cases rolling behind them.
“Oh, is she the granddaughter? What a doll!” one exclaimed, a pink feather boa coiled around his neck.
“Hi,” I greeted meekly, dipping my head. “I'm Lilia.”
“Hello, Lilia. I'm Todd. This is Garrett, Chase, Colin, Starr, and Candy.” Todd, the one with the feathers, pointed to his peers with mirth before turning back to me, combing my damp hair with his fingers. “Don't worry, beautiful. We're going to transform you into a goddess and make sure every eye is on you.”
I wasn't sure I liked the idea of that much attention, but their enthusiasm was infectious. I nodded and managed a grin. “I’m sure you will.”
“Okay, guys. Time is ticking. Let's do the magic. Snap, snap!” Todd clapped his hands, and the team dragged me toward the vanity table rimmed with bright lights.
Candy and Starr began pulling and brushing my hair into a style I couldn't yet see. Todd hovered over my face, cupping my cheeks to scrutinize my features. A slight frown touched his lips as his gaze fell on the fading bruise on my face. “Don’t worry, bellissima. I'm a fairy godmother.”
A giggle escaped me, and for the next few hours, I sat perfectly still with my eyes closed. My nose tickled, my butt went numb, and my legs began to cramp from the lack of movement.
“Alright, open your eyes now, darling.”
I obeyed. The reflection looking back was a stranger. A smoldering smoky effect made my eyes look mysterious and sultry, dusted with fine glitter. Deep red lips, long lashes, and bold, winged eyeliner transformed my face. My hair was a braided crown sitting atop my head, pinned with pearl beads and diamonds, with loose curly locks framing my face.
“No... that's not me,” I whispered.
“Was that supposed to be a compliment?” Todd grinned, hands on my shoulders, preening at his masterpiece.
“You should get into your dress,” Candy instructed.
I shimmied into the heavy gown. Linda guided me, and Todd fixed the fitting to ensure the plunging neckline sat perfectly. Garrett brought over a box containing a pair of glass-like high heels with gold fringed shoes that looked straight out of a fairy tale but felt sharp enough to be a weapon.
They finalized the look with ruby earrings and a diamond necklace that sat right at the center of my cleavage.
“I know a goddess when I see one,” Todd remarked in awe.
I forced a grin, trying to swallow the increasing knot of anxiety forming in my stomach. The clock chimed. It was eight.
The ball had started.