Ferals

Alessia' POV Getting Ready for the Gala

King Henry signals for quiet, “Ladies and Gentlemen, that concludes today’s events. Standing before you are the victors of today’s Proving. Congratulations to our brave young men! Now is the time to celebrate, eat, drink, and be merry, for our defenses have been assured.” The crowd cheers, King Henry continues, “Tonight we hold a gala in honor of our victors.” He points to us, “ You will have a place of honor at my table.” The crowd cheers and applauds as King Henry makes his way from the mezzanine to his private tent.

Cody turns to make his way from the arena. Jenkins grabs his arm and pulls him back, “Not so fast farm boy, we are not done yet.”

Cody goes to question him just as General Stone makes his way into the arena. Jenkins and I both stand at attention and salute. Cody looks around then imitates us. Silence follows him as comes to pace back and forth in front of us, eyeing each one of us as he makes his passes.

He stops in front of Jenkins, “Congratulations Mr. Jenkins. You will be entering as Second Lieutenant, I will be assigning you to your father’s unit.”

“Thank you Sir.” Jenkins salutes.

“And who do we have here?” He stops in front of Cody.

“My name’s Cody, Sir, Cody Greene.” Cody replies.

“Mister Greene, you came as a surprise. I will give you temporary rank as First Lieutenant. A position you may be able to keep with your ranking Officer’s approval. I will be assigning you to Captain Monroe’s unit. You will find him in Barracks A. You will need to meet with him before arriving at the gala tonight. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir, thank you Sir.” Cody answers in his best soldier voice.

Shit, s**t, s**t, my turn, please oh please let him assign me.  Deep breaths, calm down, it’s okay, just breath. 

The General stops in front of me. “Miss Stone.” He pauses.

Oh please, oh please, oh please!

“I haven’t decided what I am going to do with you at this time. We can discuss it after dinner this evening.” He states, then turns and walks away.

No, no, no, no, no, no, NOOO! He’s not going to let me join!  I knew it ! What am I going to do?!

“Hey…Hey…Alessia,” Jenkins jerks me around to face him. “It’s okay, shhh, it’s okay.” He pulls me to his side and leads us toward the exit. “Come on farm boy, I’ll show you where the barracks are.” He calls to Cody over his shoulder.

Cody trots behind us catching up. “What was that about?” he asks.

“He’s not going to let me join.” My voice cracks as I whisper the hated words out loud. “He’s not….”

“Hush now, we don’t know that. He probably just hasn’t decided if he wants to make you a Captain or a Major.” Jenkins squeezes my shoulders.

“I thought we all got ranked, for making it to the end.” Cody cuts in.

“Yeah, well, normally that’s what would happen, but…” Jenkins trails off, looking down at me.

“But what, since she’s his daughter won’t he just give her any rank she wants?” he asks.

I start laughing, a little hysterically. Jenkins looks at Cody, flabbergasted, “General Stone has only ever given Alessia one thing, and that’s the scar running down her face.” He hisses at Cody.

“Oh…I’m so sorry, I didn’t know..” Cody stammers.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, farm boy, so try to keep your mouth shut and pay attention.” Jenkins snaps.

We exit the arena and make our way through the winding streets of the town proper. People all around us are celebrating and we are stopped and congratulated several times. Ten minutes later we arrive at the grounds holding the barracks.

As we pass through the gates, Jenkins nods at Cody, “Barracks A through E are on the left, F through J on the right. You’re here, A, first on the left. I’ll be in J, all the way on the end on the right. The big building straight ahead that the road dead ends into, that’s the Cafeteria. The bath house is at the end of the row on the left, right past Barracks E. The Officer’s Quarters is at the end of the row on the right. You’ll need to go there to find Captain Monroe.”

“Officer’s Quarters? Aren’t we Officers? Shouldn’t we be staying there?” Cody asks.

“Nope, Officer’s Quarters is for Captain’s and above.” Jenkins answers.

“Oh…okay. What about you Alessia, which Barracks are you in?”

“I’m not. I have my own place.” I answer.

“Really? How’d you manage that?” Cody asks.

I stare at him blankly, I think Jenkins is having a coronary.

“Hello….She’s a GIRL. That’s how she managed it. She used to live in the Officer’s Quarters, until she grew boobs, then they moved her out. They converted the tool shed between the Officers Quarters and J Barracks into a single room bunk.”

Cody’s face turns as red as his hair, “ I.. I didn’t mean.. I just thought… she lived with her dad… or something.” He stammers.

“Don’t worry about it, again, you didn’t know.” I reassure him.

“Come on, let’s go get our new uniforms and get ready for this gala.” Jenkins smiles, motioning for us to follow. His smile falters, “ Oh, sorry half-pint, I didn’t mean..” he trails off.

“It’s okay Jenkins, go get your uniforms. I’m going to get cleaned up and hope my cadet uniform isn’t wrinkled. Just knock when you’re ready.”

We walk in silence. I stop in front of my bunk and watch as Jenkins and Cody bound up the steps to the Officer’s Quarters. As soon as they enter, I open the door to my bunk. My single cot sits in the left corner, perfectly made. A small chest at the foot of the bed holds my clothes, my cadet uniform, my training kit, and two night dresses. A small, pot-bellied, wood burning stove sits in the right corner for heating the bunkhouse and for heating water, a round steel tub sits beside it for bathing. A stand up looking glass sits behind the door. I rarely use it, it’s currently being used as a coat rack. I walk over and light the stove to put some water on to heat. A knock on the door stops me. I groan, What now? Surely Jenkins isn’t ready already. No way, he's probably just excited and wants to show me his new uniform. I think as I open the door. To my surprise, it’s not Jenkins. A short, chubby older woman stands in front of me. A gaggle of ladies standing behind her.

“Excuse me, are you Alessia Stone?” She asks, smiling.

“Uh, yes..” I answer.

“Oh good!” She exclaims as she pushes her way past me, her entourage on her heels carry buckets, and bags, and boxes, and things I’ve never seen before.

“Wait! What are you doing? What’s going on?” I ask as the mob of women descends on me, pulling at my clothes and hair.

“Oh my, where are my manners?” The little lady says, “ We’re here to prepare you for the gala” she explains, pulling out the steel tub as the others pour steaming water in it from the buckets they were carrying.

“What?!” I ask clearly confused as my clothes are yanked off me and I’m forced into the tub.

“You know, the gala, dear. We’ve been sent to get you ready.” The little lady says calmly while she and three others start to scrub me.

I try to fight them off, but there are way too many hands to contend with, “Sent by whom?” I ask as I give up and let them bathe me.

“Don’t you worry about that dear. Just try to relax while we do our job.” She pats my hand.

In no time at all, she’s pulling me out of the tub, I’m accosted by a plethora of towels, while the tub is pushed back into the corner, out of the way. I’m lead to the center of the room, a stool appears out of nowhere and I’m pressed onto it. Several sets of fingers fly to my hair, pulling, tugging, twisting, combing, pinning. As my hair is being assaulted, another woman appears in front of me. She starts barking orders, close your eyes, pucker your lips, rub them together, don’t blink, look down, look up. I follow her directions as she rubs and smears stuff all over my face.

As soon as she finishes, and I think the torture is over, I’m yanked to my feet again.

“Arms up dearie.” The little lady instructs, as she pulls my towel off. I raise my arms and hands start smearing a cold, sweet smelling cream all over my body.

“Right foot up.” Someone says. I lift my foot and feel soft fabric being pulled up, “Other foot.” The voice instructs. I follow directions and the fabric is pulled up over my thighs and hips. “Turn.” The voice calls out as I’m twirled around, more fabric pushed against my front. “Take a deep breath and hold it.” I’m told. I suck in a deep breath and someone behind me starts pulling the fabric around me tight.

“Oh, this sweetheart cut is perfect on you dearie.” The little lady coos, as the material is cinched tighter and tighter.

“Is it supposed to be this tight? I can hardly breath.” I complain.

“Of course it is silly, that’s the way it’s made.” She explains.

I raise my brow at her in doubt. “Okay dearie, almost done.” She says. The swarm of women start packing things back into their bags and boxes. One kneels and asks me to raise my foot again. I do, and she slips a shoe with a skinny heel onto my foot. “Now the other.” She places the other shoe on.

“There. Perfect!” The little lady beams. She turns and walks out the door, her entourage on her heels, the last one closing the door behind her. I stand alone in the middle of my room. My head spinning from the last thirty minutes of activity. I look down at myself, but all I can see is cleavage. I huff and walk over to the looking glass, jerking off my coat and throwing it on the bed.

I stare at the image staring back at me. I do not recognize myself at all. Where I should be, a strange woman stares back at me. The skirt she’s wearing is an icy blue, that clings to her hips, and shines when the light catches movement, slits run up both sides, all the way to her hips. Her top is a sweetheart cut corset, the same icy blue with a white lace overlay. Her shoulders are bare and her bright, white hair cascades in waves down her back. Her eyes are lined in kohl, her lips stained blood red. I lean in and study my face carefully, whatever they have done, my scar is barely visible. I suck in a breath as I trace it with my finger.

A knock at the door interrupts my examination in the looking glass.

“Hey half-pint, you ready?” Jenkins calls out.

“Just a minute.” I call back. I make my way slowly to the door. I lean my forehead against it.

“Jenkins?” I call out through the door.

“Yeah?” He calls back.

“Is anyone else out there?” I ask.

“Uh, no…why?” He asks.

“You have to promise me something.” I call out.

“What?....Okay.. what is it?” he asks.

“You can’t laugh.” I say.

“Laugh, what do you mean laugh? Have you outgrown your cadet uniform again?” he asks. I can hear the smile on his face.

“No, jackass! I didn’t outgrow my cadet uniform. I.. I just… I just look different, and I don’t want you to laugh…okay.”

“Okay half-pint, you’re killing me here. Whatever it is you’ve done to yourself, I promise I won’t laugh. Come on, it can’t be that bad.”

I take a deep breath and crack open the door, peeking through the crack to make sure he is alone.

“You look nice, the new uniform looks good on you.” I say through the crack.

Jenkins answers by spinning in a circle, arms spread wide. “Your turn, coast is clear, come on out.” Jenkins smiles warmly at the door.

Gathering my courage, I pull open the door and step out into the street