Free Curio by Evangeline Denmark Page A

lashes sparkled despite the woman’s grave expression. Auburn hair rose from her forehead into a mountain of jewel-studded curls and cascaded down her shoulder in perfect ringlets. But her skin. Grey had never seen anything like it. Translucent. Flawless. The woman’s alabaster face belonged in a painting. Her cheekbones bore a faint rose blush, and her full lips were a shade darker than the pink canopy and bedspread. A high-collared gown of blue and gold was cut away from her bosom to create the shape of an upside down heart. Long, pink-tipped fingers wove together on the bedspread. Elbow-length sleeves revealed graceful forearms and wrists. Every inch of visible skin appeared to be made of porcelain and yet alive, supple.
    A tiny frown pulled at the woman’s perfect mouth. She looked confused, though no lines marred her brow. “Are you without speech? I can have more water brought up if it would help. You never cooled completely. We saw to that. We’ve been tending you, my maids and I. I am Fantine.”
    Grey cleared her throat. “Where am I?”
    Fantine beamed, clasping her hands to her expertly displayed chest. “You can speak. Oh, I am so relieved. The glueman repaired the cracks on your hands and leg—such strange cracks!—but when you did not reanimate, we feared some terrible disaster had befallen you. Oh, but as to your location, you are in the house of Lord Blueboy.”
    As she spoke the name, her sapphire eyes widened, and her smile conveyed a dazzling blend of pride, pleasure, and secrecy. When Grey said nothing, Fantine nodded, her curls bouncing.
    â€œI know. Speechless is right. He has taken an interest in you. Such a mystery. And you so pretty. Well, in your unusual way, of course. My lord is fascinated. Simply fascinated by your variable skin and the little brown dots on your arms.” Fantine’s gaze skimmed up Grey’s arm to her face and then down to her body beneath the sheet. Her cheery tone faded. “And your softness.”
    A real frown, not the former pretty pout, crossed her features.
    Grey tore her eyes from the doll-like woman and took in her surroundings. She lay in a massive bed decked in pink satin and white lace. The room beyond was as big as her whole house. On her left tall windows opened onto a small balcony. Several groups of burgundy-upholstered chairs dotted the expansive floor. At the far end of the room a massive mirror and a towering wardrobe dominated the papered wall. A low vanity cluttered with an array of beautiful bottles stood in between them. She scrutinized the jewel-toned containers. No potion bottles.
    The realization provoked a physical reaction. Grey pressed her hand to her stomach as a sharp pang preceded a loud gurgle.
    Fantine coughed delicately.
    Grey turned to her astonishing hostess. “I’m sorry. I’m confused. Where did you say I am?”
    Fantine loosed a musical laugh. “They should have checked your head twice for cracks.” She arranged her features into a wise mask and spoke in a sing-song voice that reminded Grey of a nursery school teacher. “You are in Lord Blueboy’s mansion—the grandest home in all of Curio City. His lordship took pity on you when the platoon brought you in. We summoned the glueman to repair you, supplied you with water, and waited for you to reanimate.”
    Curio City? Glueman? It made no sense. Grey rubbed the tender spot above her forehead and winced. She must’ve broken her head.
    â€œFantine?”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œHow long have I been asleep?”
    â€œAh, sleep?”
    â€œUm.” Grey searched her foggy brain. How had Fantine put it? “How long have I been inanimate?”
    â€œOh, let’s see then. They brought you here at night. Nettie fetched me a cuppa in bed and nattered on about you while I warmed. The glueman came in the morning—yesterday—so this is your second day with us.”
    Two days! What