Essence of Innocence

I wake early in the morning to prepare for the day ahead. I need to be the essence of innocence to try to convince Prince Clement-Victor of my people's innocence.

When I stir, Capucine rushes to my side. Judging by the dark circles under her eyes she hasn't slept all night.

"Capucine, didn't you sleep?"

"I tried but I couldn't." I give a small smile, sympathizing with her.

"Well call in the maids to set up a bath with lavender oil. I need my nails filed and feet scrubbed. Everything to make me look presentable."

"With pleasure." She steps out to call the team together. I ease myself out of my warm bed. I think about today and go over another potential outcome for the parley. I keep repeating phrases in my head, trying to find the best way to express my terms.

Capucine pokes her head in the door and says "The maids complained about carrying the tub here. Do you want to prepare in one of your sister's rooms?

"That is fine." The maids know something is up, but we have made the excuse that the family has locked themselves in their chambers. Only the personal maids of my family know they have left, and I have paid for their silence. It won't matter if I tip my hand slightly to the maids with such a short amount of time before the parley.

I cove myself with a robe and walk to my sister's room. It is a rather long distance from my own. Once I enter the room the differences are obvious. Hers is spacious with a small sitting room to receive intimate friends, and another room for changing and grooming. Even the chamber that simply holds her bed and a fireplace is larger than my own. I ignore the hurt in my heart. It is always complicated to be reminded of my family's contempt for me.

The maids soon have the bath filled with warm, fragrant water. I disrobe and slip in. One maid instructs me to lean forward as she pours water over my long hair. She lathers shampoo into it, and then rinses away the suds. Another brings an oil that they comb through my raven locks. My hair is then tied into a knot to sit while the maids scrub every inch of my body. It is strange to have them pamper me. I have always been by myself to wash. A maid on each side of me takes my hands and works at my nails. I keep them short for practicality, so they don't need to be trimmed, just filled into an acceptable shape. Other maids are at my feet removing the dead skin from them and shaping my toenails. After an hour of scrubbing and rinsing they let my hair down and pour more hot water on my head to remove the remaining oil.

I step out of the tub and am dried. They wrap my hair in a towel and coat my limbs in more lavender oil. The aroma makes me drowsy, but it is pleasing relaxed way. My shift is slipped on, and the stays are cinched to the perfect tension, allowing movement but securing form. Then the maids sit me at the vanity, to debate on my hairstyle.

"It should be an intricate bun."

"No, a simple braid." I recognize the maid of my stepmother whose face has been pinched the entire morning. She must share my stepmother's disliking of me. I don't mind.

"Are you crazy, something full of jewels." None of them know what I am planning but considering that I never ask to be treated like this they figure it must be important.

"If I may put in my opinion." I interrupt. I already know what I need. "I want my hair braided into a crown with flowers from the greenhouse woven in. Preferable lavender, but different common flowers will do."

They gawk at me due to my strange request. I want to add a mix of regal but not wealth to my look, so I have settled on making my hair my crown, and flowers my jewels. I glance at Capucine who nods her approval.

"Yes my lady." Several maids say in unison before they leave to gather the needed flowers. While waiting another brushed my hair and braids it so it could form a crown. Another brings a box full of threads to sew one's hair in place.

"What color thread would you like?" She holds the box before me for my inspection. I look at the gold and silver colors, but a green catches my eyes.

"That one. It matches my dress." She removes the thread, setting it on the vanity for the other maid to use when she finished plaiting my waist long hair.

Within half an hour the maids returned from the garden with a basket full of various flowers. They use the thread I chose the secure the braid around my head like a crown, as well as many flowers at strategic points. Once everything is fastened, they admire their work.

"It suits your face." One maid said.

"Yes. It reminds me of those old paintings." Another chimes in.

"Lets add some last touches with makeup." The maid who say this raises a brush to my face.

"No." I raise my hand. "I don't want any." Some grumble their complaint, but they listen.

"Then if you're ready, I have your dress." Capucine, who has patiently been waiting in a corner, chimes in.

She pulls out the gown, and the maids help me to dress. Once finished they step back. No one says anything. They just stare.

"What is wrong?" I turn to the mirror, afraid that I miscalculated. I am met with a woman I don't know. The strait black hair is framed by vibrant purples, pinks and blues from flowers. Pale, glowing skin looks like porcelain, or marble, stretched over my face. My green eyes are deep and complimented by the vines and leaves stitched around the hem of the skirt, sleeves and collar. I know it is me, but I have never looked like this.

"You look like a statue." One maid said.

"No, she looks like a goddess." Capucine corrects. I smile at my friend. I look innocent but the regal air I hoped for has transcended into something more divine. It is astounding what a good bath, and dress can do.