Who Are You?

"That's not my body," Sera blurted out as she stared into the mirror.

To begin with, the woman looking back at her in shock was a good twenty-five years too young. The body was short and skinny, with a tiny waist and pert little breasts. Sera's body was good foot taller, had never, ever, been this skinny, and had larger breasts and a bigger butt even before adolescence. The other woman had a short, pert nose, a little bow-shaped mouth, and a smooth oval face. It was a nice enough face. But it wasn't Sera's square face, long patrician nose that Rick had repeatedly suggest should be 'fixed', or her wide mouth. Sera's eyes were gray. The other woman's eyes were a brown so dark they were nearly black and other woman's hair was coal black, with not a hint of the gray that was overtaking Sera's chocolate curls.

"Princess, you are pleased?" asked the beauty, with an edge of warning in her voice as she met Sera's gaze in the mirror. Sera fought down another shiver of alarm. Thus far she'd been too disoriented to think much about the situation she was in, but staring into the beauty's cold dark eyes, she was abruptly aware that she knew absolutely nothing about where she was, how she'd gotten here, or who these women thought she was.

The words of Bored Call Center Rep came echoing back to her, 'Try not to die.'

Well, obviously. But it would be a helluva lot easier if this . . . whatever this was . . . had come with a manual. Or even a quick lists of tips, or something.

"You do look beautiful, Highness," one of the maids murmured, as the others made soft whispers of agreement. Even the one with freckles, though she kept darting little searching glances up at Sera's reflection. When Sera met her eyes in the mirror, she flinched and hastily looked down.

The women ran out of assurances and a heavy silence fell. The beauty stared meaningfully at Sera, while the others fixed their gaze on the floor, their bowed heads and shoulders practically vibrating with tension.

"Beautiful is an overstatement," Sera said, frowning. The woman in the mirror did the same. "I look . . ."

She looked like the woman depicted in the murals in the bathing chamber, she realized, though the murals were overly flattering. One of the maids give a nervous giggle, another couldn't quite smother a sob. Sera's frowned deepened.

Exactly what sort of woman was she in these women's eyes? Clear the maids were terrified of her. Well, except for the beauty, who was glaring at Sera with hands that twitched as though she was itching to deliver another slap.

She had to say something, Sera realized. She took what little she knew of who she was supposed to be and said flatly, "I look tolerable."

The maids gave a collective sigh of relief, smiles blooming as their shoulders relaxed. Some of the ire drained out of the beauty's features, and the woman announced, "The palanquin will be waiting for Your Highness."

She bowed, and jerked her head pointedly towards the enormous doors. Recognizing this for the cue that it was, Sera turned away from the mirrors and stepped down from the dais. Her foot caught on the hem of her dress and she pitched forward, but the freckled woman lurched to her feet and caught Sera before she could hit the ground.

"Thank you," Sera said automatically, and the maid's eyes widened in shock.

"Who are you?" she whispered, peering searchingly into Sera's borrowed face.

"Keeryn!" the beauty snapped, "Remove your hands at once or I'll have you beheaded!"

The freckled woman hastily let go of Sera and dropped to the ground in obeisance, forehead pressed to the ground as she said hurriedly, "Please forgive my transgression, Highness. I sought only to spare you discomfort."

"You are dirt, not fit even to look upon a princess, much less lay your hands upon her," the beauty hissed, lifting the hem of her skirts so that she could kick Keeryn in the ribs. "Fifty lashes for this insult, and if you survive then--"

"Enough," Sera interrupted sharply, seizing the back of the beauty's gown and yanking her away from Keeryn as she prepared to deliver another kick. The beauty whirled around to face Sera and drew back an arm for a slap. She froze as the maids drew in a collective gasp of horror. Lifting an eyebrow, Sera dared her, "Go on. Hit me."

The beauty's hesitated for the barest moment before she clenched her fist and lowered it, then folded down into a bow and pressed her own head against the floor, saying, "Forgive my overzealousness, Highness."

The other women were still staring, so shocked they'd forgotten they weren't supposed to look at Sera. For a moment everything was still as Sera gazed down at the two women at her feet, debating what she was supposed to do now. Probably order the beauty beaten, or beheaded, or something. But though the woman was clearly a horrible person, Sera wasn't willing to order her harmed.

And Sera had a feeling if she tried to have the woman beaten, there would be dangerous consequences.

Finally Sera concluded that it was safest to do nothing. She turned away from both groveling women and started for the doors again. Two of the maids hurried past her and pushed the doors open.

The doors opened into a corridor as wide as city street. The hall was lined with women with shaved heads and uniforms of white breeches, black boots, and turquoise jackets trimmed with gold. Each of them held a long spear with a turquoise and gold tassel tied below the long leaf-shaped blade. Not one of the women glanced in Sera's direction, but they all straightened to attention as she emerged into the hall.

There was an enormous mirror opposite the doors and Sera started a little as she once again faced the strange woman in the mirror. Unsure which way she was supposed to go, Sera paused and looked for the beauty's reflection, hoping for another hint.

One of the maids had paused to help the beauty to her feet. As she did she whispered loudly, "I don't know what's got into you Lyra, but you had better thank the Gods the princess is in such a merciful mood."

"Touch me again you cow and I'll have the skin flayed off your back," the beauty snarled back, not bothering to keep her voice low as she wrenched free of the other woman's grasp. She stormed towards the doors.

Keeryn got to her feet, eyes narrowing as the beauty shoved the last maid out of her way. Her gaze shifted, and for a few heartbeats she held Sera's gaze, the faintest of frowns on her features. Then she apparently came to a decision, because she gave a tiny nod and the tiniest of waves towards the left. Sera nodded back, and turned to the left.

The maids hustled to form up around Sera, Lyra taking the place of honor a half step behind and to her right. The guardswomen stepped out from the wall as Sera moved, four of them leading the way, while others flanked Sera and the maids, and yet more fell in behind, judging by the number of booted feet ringing on the marble tiles. Sera signed inwardly with relief at having someone to follow.

The route the guardswomen took followed several long, opulent corridors. The corridors were lined with mirrors, enormous paintings, and alcoves with statues of fantastic beasts and beautiful men and women. Occasionally the corridors were broken by pillars with curtains drawn back to reveal walled gardens, or ended in a courtyard or an enormous chamber that had to be crossed. Each time the procession passed through a space, everyone in the courtyard or chamber immediately stopped what they were doing, some merely lowering their heads, others bowing deeply, still more flinging themselves to the ground.

Sera began to wonder if the guardswomen were leading her in circles. Just how enormous was this place? And all the corridors and courtyards and rooms looked the same. But none of the maids had raised any objections to the route, not even Lyra, so it must be the right way, Sera concluded. She hoped they reached their destination soon, because the marble floors were cold and her beringed but otherwise bare feet were freezing.

"Is a carpet to much to ask for?" she muttered to herself.

One of the guardswomen heard her, and cried out, "The company will halt while a carpet is brought!"

As the procession came to a stop, Lyra gave a faint growl, and hissed, "You are testing my patience."

Two of the maids scurried off, presumably to obtain a carpet. One of them returned promptly, followed by three men in livery similar to the guardswomen's uniforms. Two carried a cushioned bench between them, while the third had a footstool.

"For your Highness's comfort while you wait," the one with the footstool said, bowing as the other two positioned the bench directly behind Sera. "We beg forgiveness for the absence of a carpet."

"See that it does not happen again," Lyra said icily, and began to sit. The man with the footstool made a strangled sound and Lyra froze for a moment, then turned Sera and asked, "Highness, shall I test the bench for suitability?"

"It's a bench," Sera said, "What's to test?"

She sat. The man with the footstool knelt and set the stool on the floor, head turned slightly to the side as he waited. For a moment Sera didn't understand what he was waiting for. Then understanding dawned and she lifted her feet. The servant--footman?--slid the stool under her feet. Sera was impressed, as he managed to position the stool perfectly without actually looking at what he was doing.

The footman shifted and bent forward to press his forehead against the floor. Glancing to either side, Sera saw the other two men, the bench carriers, were doing the same. Lyra was glaring pointedly at her. Her eyes darted to the bench.

It was petty, but Sera ignored the hint and left the other woman standing.

The wait was not long. A string of men carrying carpets rolled around large wooden poles hurried into the corridor, the first pair dropping to their knees in front of Sera and beginning to unroll a long stretch of turquoise carpet with gold phoenixes and flowers. The rest of the men bowed low to Sera as they hurried past the first pair and began to roll out more carpet. When the first stretch was laid out, the guardswoman who'd called the halt said, "Highness, we should not delay any longer."

"Very well, we will proceed," Lyra said, and took a step forward, earning herself a narrow glare from the guardswoman.

'That's twice now she's responded to the title,' Sera observed as she rose to her feet and started along the carpet. But the other women clearly thought Sera was their princess. So . . . what did that mean? Was Sera and imposter? Had she switched places with Lyra? But why? The nasty woman not the sort who'd willingly give the life of a royal in favor of one of servitude.

'I'm missing something,' Sera concluded.

Under the pretense of fixing something in Sera's headdress, Lyra leaned in and hissed, "Leave me standing like that again, and I will have you, your family, and everyone you have ever met killed. Have I made myself clear?"

Sera glanced briefly over to the other woman. "Quite clear."

Lyra smirked in satisfaction. The smirk was replaced by shock when Sera continued, "But that might be difficult. You're not the princess any more, are you?"