*
By this time, Valek knew Parveen’s routine by heart. She traveled the same streets to and from the castle unless she was running late. Tonight, the Queen kept her longer than normal, so instead of walking her typical route home, Parveen took a shortcut through a narrow street without lanterns. It saved her a few blocks and allowed Valek to put his plan into motion. Bug blended in with the dark factories facing the street.
When Parveen reached the halfway mark, Bug leaped from his hiding spot and pressed his blade to her neck. “Gimme all your money or I’ll slit your throat!”
She stared at him in shock. Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound escaped. Parveen clutched her purse tight to her stomach.
A freezer, Valek thought as he slipped from his place and shouted, “Hey!”
Bug turned his head and cursed right before Valek slammed into him, knocking him down. The shank flew from his hand. Then Bug and Valek grappled for a bit before Bug scrambled to his feet and bolted.
During the entire encounter, Parveen stood blinking at them as if she couldn’t quite comprehend what had just happened.
“Are you all right?” Valek asked in a falsetto. “There’s no blood.”
At the word blood, Parveen gasped and touched her neck. “Oh my...he wanted my money... I’d never...”
“He’s gone now. You’re safe.”
“I am...” And then with more animation, “I am, thanks to you!”
Valek shrugged. “Are you going to report this to the town watch?”
“I... Did you get a good look at him?”
“A street rat like me.”
“Oh.” She peered at him as if seeing him for the first time. “I...don’t think so. No harm done and I’m late for...” Parveen drew in a breath as if to steady her nerves. She opened her purse. “Here, let me give you—”
“No, thanks. That’s not why I helped you.”
“Surely you could use some money for food?”
“Yeah, but it’s...” He glanced at the ground. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
Gotcha. He met her gaze. “I’d rather earn a living then beg for it.”
“Then why don’t you apply for a job?”
Valek gestured to his shabby and stained clothes—street living was hard on a skirt. “Most people won’t let me into their place of business let alone hire me.”
“Oh. Well, in that case, you can work for me.”
He acted surprised. “Really?”
“Yes. As long as you don’t mind cleaning up hair and washing towels?”
“I don’t mind.”
“All right, then. What’s your name?”
“Valma.”
“Valma, I’m Parveen. Let’s go and I’ll introduce you to my staff.”
Parveen not only hired him, but let him stay in a small room above the beauty shop and gave him an advance payment so he could buy clean clothes. All in all, a lovely woman. He hoped he wouldn’t have to kill her.
*
Valek worked hard in the beauty shop. Leery at first, the staff welcomed him once Parveen explained how he’d saved her life. He paid attention to the stylists and after two weeks they showed him a few basics. His finger dexterity proved to be useful for braiding hair and soon he learned how to weave the strands into intricate patterns. Then it was only a matter of time before he had his own clients.
“You’re a natural,” Parveen said one day as she admired his work.
Valek discovered that cutting and styling hair was similar to carving a stone. You started with a formless mass and then you shaped it into a thing of beauty.
After a season of working in the shop, Valek felt confident not only in his ability to blend in as a female, but in his ability to set the next phase of his plan in motion. Getting to this point had taken almost two seasons. He had only about ten weeks left until the Commander arrived.
One morning near the end of the warming season, Parveen arrived to open the shop. Sweat beaded her pale face and she moved as if she walked on the deck of a boat in storm-tossed seas. She pressed a hand to her mouth while her other groped for a chair.
Valek rushed to her side and helped her sit down. “You look awful.”
“I feel awful.” She hunched forward, resting her forehead in her hands.
“Let me take you home. You should sleep.”
“I can’t. The Queen—”
“Wouldn’t want to get sick.”
“She thinks she’s immune. That illness only strikes commoners.” Parveen pushed to her feet. “I’d better leave now. It’ll take me...” She wobbled. “Longer.”
“I’m coming with you,” Valek said.
“But—”
“Do you want to be alone when you pass out in the street? If that’s the case, leave your purse here.”
“All right.”
It took forever to get Parveen to the castle and up to Queen Jewel’s rooms. Before Parveen collapsed into a chair to catch her breath, Valek pricked her with a sleeping potion.
“Why are you here?” the Queen demanded. “What’s wrong with her?”
This was the first time Valek had seen the Queen in person. Known for bewitching the King with her exquisiteness, her emerald eyes, long eyelashes, full lips, high cheekbones, curvy figure and flawless skin were legendary, yet he found no beauty within her. He curtsied and explained.
“Help her stand, then. I need my hair done.”
But Parveen had passed out. He made a show of trying to wake her.
Impatient, Queen Jewel strode over and slapped her cheek. Hard. “Wake up, Parveen. I will not be late for my appointments.” She reached back to deliver another blow.
Valek stepped close and the Queen’s hand slammed into his back instead. It stung. The lady had an arm. He ignored the pain. “If I may, your majesty. I can style your hair for you.”
“You?” Her cold gaze swept over him.
“I’ve been working with Parveen for seasons.”
She glanced back at the unconscious woman and sighed. “All right, but if I look hideous I’m sending you to the gallows.”
Nice lady. The idea of killing her no longer seemed so heartless.
The Queen settled into an overstuffed chair facing a mirror. Valek gathered her long thick auburn hair in his hands. It reached halfway down her back and flowed like silk. He studied her oval-shaped face and slightly pointed chin, deciding on a style that would enhance her features.
With quick, sure motions, he pinned her hair up, creating rows of curls that gathered into an intricate knot at the back of her head. Then he pulled a few tendrils down to drape over her shoulders. Without being asked, he sorted through her gowns and selected a pale green one trimmed with cream lace. Then he matched her makeup to the colors of the gown and sewed an extra piece of lace onto a barrette, clipping it into her hair. He fished a long pearl necklace from her overflowing jewelry box. It was so long that he looped it three times around her neck to create a cascading effect over her décolletage.
When finished, she surveyed herself in the ring of full-length mirrors for a long time. “Quiet, quick and efficient. What’s your name?”
“Valma, your majesty.”
“All right, Valma, you can fill in until Parveen is better.”
“Thank you. I’ll take her home and be right back.”
“Back?”
“Just in case you need your makeup fixed or would like a new hairstyle for the afternoon.”
“What about your clients?” she asked.
He gave her a puzzled expression. “No one is more important than you. I’ll cancel all my appointments.”
Her expression grew distant and he saw the wheels turning. Had he hooked her?
“Can you stay overnight, as well?” she asked.
Yes. “If it pleases your majesty.”
“It does.” She returned to gazing at herself in the mirror.