The dressing room is well lit and simply decorated with a full-length mirror, multiple chairs—some upholstered, some wooden. A long clothing rack of brass and wood stands against the back wall, half full with the coronation dress and a simple white silk robe; a large five-partition screen divider sits next to the clothing rack. Decorative tiling covers the wall from the bottom to hip-height before switching to a walnut-stained wooden panelling going up to the ceiling. There are no windows to provide natural light; all light comes from sigil sconces on the walls and the small gold chandelier.

  “Time for our hard work to be washed away.” Ede places her trunk on the table, disappointment in her soft voice.

  Enlynn nods in agreement, setting her trunk down as well. Quickly turning,she storms over to Dyder, ushering him out of the room. “Again, out with you, Dyder.” She chuckles as the tall guard exits and glances at the High Priestess to see if she had any reaction—she did not.

  “Two of my coven [1] will be here shortly with water and wash-cloths for you. The robe is on the rack already.” Eue-Lysae dismisses herself from the room. Wordlessly, she takes the case with the crown from Dyder. In her peripheral vision, she sees his mouth move as if he wishes to speak, but he says nothing, just pursing his lips as she passes.

  She makes her way into the Great Hall. The room is bustling, loud with chatter: the Watchmen directing nobles who could attend on such short notice, military officials of Gekaryna’s private army, and members of the wealthy mercantile and artisanal class who call the Crown Isles home into the tiered seating lining the balconies off each floor.

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  Smiling as she passes ?ppolonia and Gelshk. Eue-Lysae turns to watch the two priestesses make their way towards the dressing room, before redirecting her attention to surveying the crowd.

  Faey softly raps against the dressing room door with her knuckle.

  “A moment.” Enlynn, halfway through tying up Gekaryna’s hair, hurriedly finishes clipping the auburn mass into a messy bun. She steps out from behind the screen divider, careful not to bump the rack with the processional gown now hung on it, and rushes to the door.

  Faey, with a handful of folded cotton face cloths, greets Enlynn with a warm ‘hello’ and a wide smile; Elena simply smiles and bows her head, more concerned with not spilling the rose-water in the dark-blue clay bowl in her hands.

  They make their way over to the table. Faey sets the cloths down with a thump, simply moving her hands out from beneath them and letting them fall to the wooden surface. Elena is more careful, setting the bowl down so gently, it makes no sound.

  Enlynn, plucking the ceremonial robe from the rack, returns behind the divider.

  The two ladies-in-waiting pop ?nnywella’s head through the collar of the robe and fit her arms through the short-sleeves which stop above the elbow. In less than a minute, the three walk about and over to the table.

  “You look like you could be one of us, dera’Herst.” Faey chuckles as she watches Gekaryna sit.

  “Some days I wish I was.” ?nnywella barely has enough time to respond before Konst?nze and Myna start removing the makeup.

  The makeup migrates quickly to the bowl, white foundation and lipstick being rung out into the water.

  Once her face had been dried, the priestess led ?nnywella out of the dressing room and towards the great hall.

  Footnotes

  [1] Each high priestess has what is called a coven, which consists of thirteen priestesses, usually between the ages of 16 and 25. One of these priestesses will replace the high priestess when her tenure is complete.