She muttered something under her breath and a sizzle of energy sparked from her fingertips. “Soap and water,” Dorothy repeated, snorting. “I’m certain I can have it out in a moment.” “Should I send for soap and water?” Jellia asked. Jellia looked up, eyes impossibly wide above her frozen smile. But Dorothy put her hand out to halt the maid. She dropped to her knees in panic, dabbing frantically at the carpet with a handkerchief to blot out her mistake. “Princess Dorothy-Your Highness-I am so very sorry. Her lips twitched at the corners of her frozen smile. Even if it wouldn’t come out, it was just a tiny little drop. The thing is, the polish almost matched the color of the carpet.
The sparkly pink polish landed in a blob on the pink carpet. A drop of nail polish fell from the brush. But Jellia did, flinching on my behalf at the close call. I met her eyes, flashed her a reassuring smile, and then nearly nicked the back of Dorothy’s ear with the brush.ĭorothy didn’t even notice, she just went on humming her stupid waltz. As she spoke, she glanced up at me, probably to check on my progress. There must be something interesting going on in this palace of mine. Jellia’s brow crinkled in concentration and it quickly began to shine with sweat as she worked. Her fingers moved delicately and quickly over Dorothy’s nails, tracing the outlines of tiny hearts without even the tiniest mistake. Dorothy began to hum a low waltz under her breath while Jellia got to work. Jellia pulled up a stool and picked out the first color. The rest of Dorothy was perfect, but her hands looked like an old woman’s. Blue for the base.” She extended her hands to Jellia and I realized that there was something gnarled about them. “Let’s do the hearts,” Dorothy finally decided. It was actually sort of relaxing-I felt much better now that I had something to focus on other than the shoes. I counted silently, being careful not to yank too hard when I hit a rare tangle. This is what evil smells like, I realized. I expected there to be a rotten note underneath, but there wasn’t. Her hair smelled like lemons and sunshine. I grabbed the brush from my pocket and pulled it slowly through Dorothy’s thick auburn locks. I took a deep breath and moved behind her. “One thousand strokes exactly!” Dorothy snapped, still not looking up at me. “Astrid,” Jellia ordered firmly, “the princess needs her hair brushed.”
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