The Harlot's Stage or a Gilded Cage

4. The Reception

    One by one, each newly selected Seed arrived at the Waecare with her belongings. Though she came from one of the farther districts, Hasim was the first to arrive. Packing for her took all of five minutes since all she had to do was throw her spare set of clothes into a bag and since there were so few people there, the herald was able to finish distributing bags while she packed. No other women were Selected so they were able to set out immediately and arrive in the early morning when it was still dark. In fact, when they saw the outline of the Waecare in the distance, they could still see the little pinpricks of light from the electric street lamps that had been newly installed in the capital. As she descended from the carriage, she was clearly more peeved when they had first set off. She didn’t want to leave her family. She didn’t want to be away from her beloved plants. And she certainly didn’t want to have to dress up in restrictive frilly clothes! The herald had managed to get his aides to hold her down and scrub some of the dirt off to make her more presentable which had done nothing for her mood and also made it more difficult for her to hide her disdain. Unfortunately, the pages who greeted her bore the brunt of her bad humor. 

    One rushed to help her descend from the carriage. “Welcome, m’lady,” he said as he bowed and held out a hand to help her descend. Hasim looked at it before ignoring it and jumping down herself. Mud droplets spattered everything nearby, including the over helpful page. Undeterred, he continued his campaign to offer assistance. “I can take whatever luggage you have to your room while you go straight to the welcome reception. The herald will show you where to go.” Always a woman of few words, Hasim simply tossed her satchel to the page and marched after the herald with her arms crossed. 

    Elona was the next to arrive. Although she lived the closest by far (aside from Kyera who already lived in the Waecare with her mother), Madame Divi refused to let her leave without assembling a sort of trousseau for her to take instead of the couple plain sets of clothes she owned. Unfortunately for Elona, Madame Divi had a very specific strategy in mind which meant the trousseau was almost entirely composed of things Elona couldn’t even contemplate wearing - lacy black negligees, bralettes with daring cutouts, the shortest of skirts...When Elona asked what she should wear over all these different types of undergarments, Madame Divi threw her head back and laughed. “You’re not going to wear them as underthings, silly! These are the real clothes. You’ll definitely get the prince’s attention and I’m sure no one else will be so daring.”

    Elona knew better than to argue. “Okaaaaaaay...but what clothes do I wear under these then?”

    “You don’t.” Madame Divi shut the trunk emphatically. “Alright, that should do it. Orora, Iki, carry this out to the herald, will you? I’d like a moment alone with Elona before she leaves us.” Reluctantly, Orora and Iki grabbed either side of the trunk and carried it down the stairs. Madame Divi shut the door behind them. Elona had wanted to say goodbye to Anova before she left, but apparently Madame Divi was dead set on keeping them apart.

    “Now, I realize I haven’t been as proactive with your education as I have Anova’s because of those birdbrains’ objections, but I have gone to great lengths to get us this opportunity. As such, I expect you to use everything you’ve learned here. I may not have formally taught you how to tease and please a man, but you’re smart, right? I’m sure you’ve picked up plenty just from listening during your time at The Aviary. There is one trick I wanted to tell you about before you left, though. It involves a grapefruit and-”

    Elona interrupted before Madame Divi could describe the act any further. “What do you mean you went to ‘great lengths’ to get this opportunity? Seeds are randomly selected, aren’t they?” 

    “Never you mind. So, like I was saying, you get a grapefruit an-” Elona was saved from this particular broadening of her horizons by a knock at the door. The herald poked his head in.

    “Are you ready to leave, miss? There’s a welcome reception that we really shouldn’t be late for.” The herald might have been a touch overeager considering how close to the Waecare they already were, but he was anxious to leave The Aviary. He was not looking forward to explaining to his husband why he smelled like cheap perfume, and now the Sparrows were starting to place props - including neon colored boas- which meant that tiny multicolored feathers were flying and getting stuck everywhere. If he waited any longer, there might also be glitter or body paint or god knows what else. The less he had to explain, the better. 

    Elona darted past Madame Divi before she could convince the herald to let her stay and finish educating Elona on this particular topic. “Yes, thank you! Goodbye, Madame.” She gave a quick wave and escaped into the carriage. She had hoped to run into Anova on her way out, but Madame Divi had her preoccupied displaying the revealing outfit she'd worn today in the square. It was part of drumming up anticipation for her eventual auctioning in six month's time. 

    As the herald loaded up her trunk, Elona couldn’t help but worry about her wardrobe - more specifically, her lack thereof. The herald noticed her worried look. 

    “If you’re worried about your clothes, miss, there’s no need to be. Getting new clothes is part of The Reaping to ensure all Seeds aren’t unfairly disadvantaged by their backgrounds.” Elona heaved out a sigh of relief. At least that was one less thing to worry about.

     Though she was slightly more at ease, she couldn’t help but apprehensively look back as they set off. She craned her neck for as long she could so that she wouldn’t miss her last look of the only family she’d ever known waving goodbye as they turned into specks into the horizon. 

    Camine’s arrival was probably the smoothest to the general onlooker. After all, she was the type of woman that was expected to be Selected and then go on to maybe even The Reaping. She had been well-trained on how to treat staff, what to pack, and which fork to use in each situation. Her training also allowed her to mask the deep guilt and turmoil she felt about the circumstances of her Selection. Those around her just chalked up her quietness to her being especially demure and polite, though. They found her delightfully naive when she was startled by the page’s offers of assistance rather than suspiciously on edge. She followed the herald into the belly of the Waecare with her head down and her hands clasped at her waist to hide their shaking. Behind them, the pages struggled to lug the five trunks the Duchess had insisted she bring.

    Although she was the only Seed who already lived in the Waecare, Kyera was actually the last to formally arrive as a Seed. Her mother, Madame Ritivia, had unsuccessfully lobbied for Kyera to retain her quarters rather than have to move into the East Wing with all the other Seeds so Kyera ended up having to pack up her belongings last minute. Because he had been so insistent about appointing Madame Ritivia to oversee The Reaping, King Firzen was adamant that Kyera should receive no special treatment which meant she wouldn’t be able to come back and retrieve anything she forgot, just as the other Seeds would not be allowed to visit their homes while they participated in The Reaping. After haphazardly dumping everything she could think of into her luggage, Kyera walked into the welcome reception as the last Seed to arrive. 

    Upon her arrival, the valet at the door left to whisper into Madame Ritivia’s ear that all the Seeds were in attendance. It was time to begin.

    “Ladies,” Madame Ritivia said as she gestured to the fifteen young women before her in various levels of dress. “Welcome to the Waecare and congratulations on your Selection. As you all know, being Selected is a great honor and one of the greatest services a Waecarian can perform for their country. On behalf of all of Waecaris, I would like to thank all of you for offering yourselves up for The Reaping.” She paused for a light smattering of applause.

    “Before we begin in earnest, I must go over the guidelines and rules so that all of you know what will be expected of you.” Her gaze lingered on the few Seeds who were in more modest attire and clearly not from wealthy backgrounds. “You will be well-comported, respectful, and polite at all times. To be any less would be to reflect poorly on Waecaris.” A couple of the seeds shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, but Elona and Hasim remained standing tall. Hasim didn’t give a damn and Elona had dealt with much worse side-eye growing up in The Aviary.

    “You will not be permitted to return to your homes at any point during The Reaping until you are dismissed. If and when you are dismissed, you will be provided with appropriate compensation for each day you have spent here instead of working at your previous occupations.” Hearing this, Camine grew even paler. The prospect of taking money for being here when she wouldn’t have been working to make money otherwise made her stomach roil. She resolved on the spot that she would donate whatever winnings she received, especially to those who her mother had scammed. 

    “The Reaping has three main components: courting, lessons, and practice. Courting will allow you and Prince Tynan to get to know each other and develop a bond. Lessons will ensure you have the requisite knowledge and skills to fulfill the roles and responsibilities that come with being Queen Consort. Practice will involve attending things like luncheons, teas, balls - whatever Prince Tynan has indicated he would rather his partner be responsible for - so that we can see how well you apply the things you learn in lessons in the situations you will need them if you are eventually crowned.” With each description, Hasim somehow managed to glower more and more strongly, until finally it seemed as if she could set Madame Ritivia’s dress on fire with just her eyes. Madame Ritivia was indifferent.

    “You may have heard about previous Reapings - what lessons were covered, how long they lasted, what kinds of people usually end up as consort - I urge you to put all of these rumors out of your mind. No two Reapings are the same because no two royals are the same. We’ve had Reapings as short as 2 weeks and as long as 3 years. Queens have asked their partners to learn how to plan events and cook and kings have asked theirs to become generals and vice versa. We realize that you have heard in other nations that the roles are much more standardized, whether by gender or lineage, but in Waecaris, we believe that the best partnerships capitalize on each other’s strengths to cover each other’s weaknesses.” 

    “And that’s just the lessons based on their governing needs. There are other lessons based on more...personal...needs to ensure that the selected consort is compatible with the royal in every way.” Elona was too familiar with the way Madame Ritivia had just delivered that sentence. It was the same way Madame Biki described the services The Aviary offered when she was trying to be coy with a new client, or trying to avoid prostitution charges while still advertising to potential clientele. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who could intuit the double entendre because although they had slightly different reactions, many of the other Seeds also started fidgeting and looking askance at one another. Hasim’s face transitioned from anger to dread. Camine’s brow was furrowed in confusion. Elona defiantly crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one leg, popping out her hip. Only Kyera remained completely composed and poised. 

    Oblivious to the shift in room temperature or unwilling to acknowledge it, Madame Ritivia continued. “Many of you may have noticed Prince Tynan isn’t here. We felt it was important to give you some time to acclimate before meeting your potential future partner. To that end, you will tour the castle and meet your staff for the rest of the day. You will finally meet him at dinner tonight. While you are permitted and encouraged to freshen up, you will not change your attire before dinner. For this first introduction, we feel it is imperative that he meet you as you are.” Elona rolled her eyes. So it begins, the subtle and not so subtle ways officials game the system in favor of their own while trying to maintain the image of honesty and fairness. Hasim let out a small huff, betraying her own disfavorable feelings about the arrangement.

    As they set off on their days of touring new places and meeting new people, each Seed was apprehensive of dinner tonight. One way or another, tonight, they would be coming face to face with their future.

    “Why’d you cut your hair so short? It looks like a boy’s! Is that your aesthetic, like a tomboy kinda thing? Not sure that’s what Prince Tynan’s into, but the whole point of this thing is choice, right? Maybe that strategy will help you stand ou-”

    Hasim couldn’t take any more of Sylphia’s yammering. “It’s not an aesthetic or a strategy or a boy’s haircut. It’s mine. I leave it that way because I like not dying of heat stroke when I’m working 12 hour days out in the field under the sun.” Elona couldn’t help but snort at Hasim’s matter-of-fact but exasperated response. Even Camine the eternally sweet and Kyera the perpetually b***h-faced cracked smiles at Hasim’s retort. 

    For the tour of the castle, the Seeds had been broken up in three groups of five so that they could get to know each other without being overwhelmed. Elona, Hasim, Kyera, and Camine had been content to get through their tour in silence so that they didn’t have to deal with each other, but the fifth girl in their group, Sylphia, had other ideas. 

    If aesthetics truly were a Reaping strategy, hers was clear and classic. With tanned skin, blonde hair, and big boobs, it seemed she had decided to become the typical man’s fantasy. She had also apparently decided to be nauseatingly upbeat all. the. time. If that was part of her strategy for The Reaping as well, it was by far the most effective. It was too soon to see whether it would help her make a positive impression on Tynan or get his attention, but it was certainly wearing down her competition and fast. 

    “Wow! 12 hours in the sun? Is that why you’re so dark? You know, I’ve got this lightening cream you could totally borrow.” If Hasim wasn’t done before, she had officially snapped now. 

    “What’s wrong with my skin?” She crossed her arms and started tapping her foot. The page leading the tour and the other girls had to stop so that they didn’t walk off without her.

    Sylphia was caught off-guard. “Oh, um, nothing, it’s just so dark, y’know? I was just thinking…” She trailed off when Hasim didn’t change her posture. “I mean, everyone wants lighter skin, right?”

    “No. They don’t.” Hasim brushed past her, unwilling to waste her breath any longer. She liked the way she looked, and she wasn’t about to defend her genetics to someone who just didn’t get it. Elona, with her orange-brown terracotta skin, and Kyera, with her cooler and slightly lighter coffee, internally applauded Hasim’s backbone. They’d both had similar conversations before, but rather than stir up trouble, they’d just nodded and pursed their lips. Only Camine with her fair complexion and cornsilk white hair couldn’t relate firsthand, but she had talked to enough of her servant friends with darker skin to understand where Hasim was coming from. Realizing she had made a gaffe even if she wasn’t entirely sure what it was, Sylphia was blissfully silent during the rest of the tour. 

    After walking what seemed like the entire perimeter of Waecaris, it was finally time for dinner. They weren’t permitted to go back to their rooms yet to minimize the chances of them flouting the rules and changing their clothes, but they were allowed to use the women’s sauna in the east wing to freshen up.

    “If you find yourself a bit sore after so much walking, feel free to ask the palace masseuses to massage your legs and feet. Just be mindful that we’ll have to depart for the dining hall shortly,” the page said outside the door of the sauna. Elona was used to a decent amount of hard labor considering her role in The Aviary, but even she was wiped out after that trek. She’d never had a massage before, but she was excited for anything that would help unknot her muscles. Right now they felt like congealed spaghetti. 

    They were greeted by a cloud of steam and the wafting scents of essential oils when they entered. Notes of jasmine, sandalwood, and citrus swirled around them. Masseuses stood by their tables, ready to massage away the aches of any who asked. A bank of sinks lined one wall, topped by the widest mirror Elona had ever seen. Various cosmetics and lotions were neatly arranged on another counter, though this one was roped off to prevent them from changing their appearance too much. Maids milled around as well, ready to assist in whatever ways they were allowed. 

    Kyera held out her arms. Immediately, two maids approached. One stripped off her clothes while the other draped her in a towel. Shrugging, the others followed her lead. Elona was uncomfortable with strangers seeing her in such a vulnerable state, but they didn’t seem to pay any mind to the circumstances. She approached the massage table in front of her. The masseuse motioned for her to lay down on her stomach. 

    The masseuse immediately laid into her calves, digging into the tortured muscles. Elona had to stifle her moans in her arm because the experience was just so deliciously relaxing. When the masseuse started to work the stiffness out of her feet, Elona nearly melted right then and there. Eventually, Elona decided she needed to stop because she couldn’t go to dinner if she was a puddle, but she resolved to come back here as often as possible. Years of backbreaking scullery work meant she still had plenty of knots left to work on. 

    Even if she had been allowed to use them, she had no idea what to do with the vast majority of cosmetics or other unguents in the sauna, so she just slipped back into her clothes and went to wait in the lobby while the others finished up. All the scents and steam in the sauna were beginning to feel overwhelming. 

    Hasim joined her in the lobby a few minutes later. “I feel like a newborn calf,” she said as she shook her arms and rotated her shoulders. “Seriously, I feel so loose and tender. What kind of magic was that?”

    “I know, right? I wasn’t sure I’d have any muscles left if I stayed any longer.” Elona bent at the waist to show off her newly not-sore back. She couldn’t remember the last time her back hadn’t felt tight as a drum. 

    That was the extent of the conversation they could make, though, and the others were taking their sweet time. The next few minutes they spent in silence felt like an eternity as a result. When Kyera, Camine, and Sylphia did come back, it was clear they had done more than just freshen up. They had new makeup on and had (not so) subtly changed their outfits to be more formal. It was clear that their current attire was a variation of the outfits they entered in and that layers had been removed to change up the look to be more formal. Camine looked mostly unchanged, although Kyera and Sylphia managed to cajole her into wearing some new makeup. 

    “Wow, you guys look...refreshed,” said Elona, scanning them from head to toe. 

    “And different,” cut in the much more blunt Hasim. The accusation was clear in her tone.

    Apparently recovered from her previous interrogation, Sylphia piped up. “Yeah, we’d heard rumors that this is typically what happens during the first night so we prepared our outfits accordingly. Camine over there felt like it was cheating, though, so she decided not to flip hers.” 

    “We would have helped you with your makeup, too, but you guys had already left,” Camine interjected apologetically. “Turns out there were some things we actually were allowed to use.”

    Kyera made no move to explain herself. Instead she kept her head held high, her gaze daring them to challenge her. Turns out, Elona dared.

    “Wow, must be nice to have access to people who know about The Reaping - or even run it, right?” Elona tilted her head at Kyera. Her move. 

    Kyera delivered. “The Reaping understands you can’t choose your parents. After all, that’s the whole point of randomized selection, right? To make sure little nobodies like you can have a taste of luxury? I gather that was your first massage based on the indecent noises you were making. Or is that kind of response to touch just conditioned into you as part of your training down at The Aviary?”

    Elona’s jaw dropped. How the hell did she know about her background? Her mother must have given her some insider information or something. 

    Think of the devil, and she will appear. Before Elona could string together a more coherent reply, Madame Ritivia swept into the lobby followed by the rest of the Seeds. 

    “Good evening, ladies. I hope you all feel ready for this next step in this year’s Reaping. The royal family is already waiting for you inside the dining hall. You will be announced one by one. When you enter the dining hall, simply follow the page. They will lead you to your seat. 

    “You will be dining with your tour groups. Prince Tynan will rotate his seat between each course to ensure he has the chance to get to all of you equally.” Elona groaned internally. She was stuck with this lot for another couple hours? At least Hasim seemed tolerable, and even Camine seemed somewhat decent. If she got through this meal without stabbing Kyera with her fork, though she’d be surprised. 

    “Throughout the dinner, I will be making light etiquette corrections to begin your lessons as soon as possible. This will also allow the royal family to see how well you take corrections and adapt. Don’t be too nervous, though; they understand you all come from different backgrounds.” Elona rolled her eyes. Sure they did. But it wouldn’t change the fact that the Seeds who already know everything about etiquette would have a lot less to deal with. Still, it was just eating, right? She’d been doing that since she was born so it couldn’t be too bad. 

    “Please line up in your tour groups. We will begin shortly.” Reluctantly, Elona stood behind Kyera. Their group was the last in line, so at least it would be a while before she had to deal with her face again. For now, she just had to contemplate Kyera’s graceful neck and impeccably swept up hair up close and personal. This dinner could not end soon enough. 

    The doors opened and the first Seeds were announced. Elona craned her neck to try to catch a glimpse of the prince but couldn’t find a line of sight around Kyera’s elaborate up-do. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that this was about finding a way out for her and Anova. Nothing else mattered, not even rude palace brats.