The Beating of a Thousand Wings

“Alright hon, I’m finished. Go ahead and take a look,” the makeup artist said as she set her brush down. “Thank y— Oh my goodness.” I reached up and touched my cheek and the girl in the mirror did the same. My stick-straight hair had been curled and pulled away from my face into a sweeping knot with soft tendrils dropping next to my face, softening the harsh lines of my facial structure. My eyebrows were perfectly arched to frame my eyes which now appeared strikingly blue next to the deep, smoked-out brown tones that she painted my eyes with. My pale skin seemed warm and lively, my sunburnt freckles hidden away. My lips were perfectly painted with a color so vivid it looked like blood. It seemed as if this woman cast a spell on me and made me appear pretty. Or this was an enchanted mirror. “Faeyliah! Look at me!” My mother's voice barked, causing me to jerk in my seat. A dull ache ripped through my back, reminding me that I had been sitting for over two hours. I suppressed a grimace and turned towards her critical eyes. “You pinned her hair up?” She interrogated. Her eyes not leaving my face. “Yes ma’am. It's warm tonight and any perspiration on her shoulders and back would cause her hair to stick to her skin.” The stylist answered. She kept her face turned towards her bags and she continued packing her products. My mother rolled her eyes and pursed her lips. “That’s some pretty dark eyeshadow she looks like a vampire.” The stylist zipped the last pocket of her bag and extended the handle before turning towards us. I saw her take a deep breath while squaring her shoulders. “Her dress is nude ma’am. I needed to go with bolder colors so that she doesn’t look like she just washed ashore.” “Her dress is champagne and designed by the Pierre Auentiet!” The single, most recognized designer on this continent!” My mother sneered. “His work is always exquisite and this dress is no different. The color just isn’t the best choice for her skin.” “There's not enough time to wash all this off and start again. We’ll have to make do. You may leave.” My mother flicked her hand in the poor stylist’s direction. I made a mental note to send her a thank you note along with gratuity since I’m sure my mother wouldn’t. “Hurry up child. We need to be leaving immediately. It's rude to be late.” With that she turned on her heels and left, yanking the door shut in the process. “Miss? Would you like me to assist you in getting your gown on?” I tore my eyes away from the mirror and realized the stylist hadn’t left but instead was standing beside me, holding my dress for the night. Hurriedly, I got up. “Yes, please. I can’t quite reach the ties in the back to cinch the waist.” “You’ll have to step into the dress, so you don’t catch your hair.” She instructed as she loosened all the lacing on the backside of the bodice. I quickly shimmied off my dressing robe and stepped in, placing my arms through the sleeves and pulling the gown into place. “Breathe in Miss.” I did as I was told and felt the dress constrict around my chest and waist. My mother insisted on the dress having a corset bodice along with off-the-shoulder puffed sleeves to hide my “plumpness. Her hands dropped away from the back of the dress and I let out the breath I had been holding as well as I could, given the fact my entire torso was now bound. Dolly. The stylist's name was Dolly. I mentally pinched myself for forgetting her name. Turning to her, I did a slight curtsey. “Thank you, dear Dolly! You’ve worked magic tonight.” She smiled and turned me back towards the full-length mirror. “The magic was there already, beautiful girl. I just encouraged it to show its face.” With that, she grabbed her bag and left while I stood gazing in the mirror. I don’t know about the magic already being there but there was something ethereal about my reflection. My usually plump figure appeared curvy and elegant in the dress that left my shoulders and décolleté exposed without being revealing. There was a gentle downward curve to the neckline of the bodice that encouraged the silhouette of my bust and the entire top of the dress was glittering with stones that scattered into the full skirt. I felt like I had been dipped in pixie dust. I giggled at the thought. “Faeyliah!!! Let's go!” My mother's voice radiated from downstairs interrupting my thoughts. I quickly ran over to my shoes and slipped them on and darted out the door. Gathering my skirt, I rushed down the stairs, barely avoiding knocking into my father. His hands shot out immediately to steady me and suppressed a chuckle. “Fae, Darling,” he smiled and kissed me on the temple. “Faeyliah, child, remember to move with grace and poise. You seem to forget you are a lady.” My mother chided as she walked out the door. My father only shook his head and smiled as he led me out the door and helped me into the car. My brother was already inside, staring at me blankly. Honestly, I couldn’t tell if he hated how I looked or was concealing that he favored my new appearance but I knew he’d rather die than let me know. “Took you long enough, princess,” he sneered. I rolled my eyes and turned away from him. I wasn’t going to bother with him tonight. I still didn’t know where we were going. “Daddy, could you please tell me now where we’re going?” I could see a smile form in the corner of my father’s mouth. “It doesn't matter where we’re going. What matters is that you’re on your best behavior. That means no slouching, keep your head up, make eye contact when people are addressing you….” My mother lectured but I tuned her out as I stared out the window, praying it wouldn’t be a long ride.