The Color of Crimson

One morning Rachel was searching for her crimson jacket that was given to her as a present by one of the top designers during an showing.  She searched endlessly in the coffer (chest), since that was the last place of its existence.  It was an extraordinary piece of furniture with carvings of women laying by the stream with flowers in their heads. Besides, it was not unusual for royals in those days to have their castles housing such antique furnishings.  For instance, artwork from artists like Leonardo da Vinci, with statues by Michelangelo, and paintings by Raphael.  As a result, some castles became embedded and over-stuffed by greedy royals.  The socially-inclined would shop with no mercy for all sorts of fashion desires full of romance and tragedy.  "I can't believe it is missing," Rachel wailed, as she rummaged through the chest draws. 

Suddenly, the trumpets were blaring in the corridor which meant the princess was soon arriving.  Rachel abandoned the search for the jacket and with a quick gait, to escort her ladyship from her room.  As she walked picking up the pace with her heavy dress trail floating behind her; she quickly glanced at the antique Venetian painted console.  "Yes, she said to herself, the glow is real."  She blinked her long eyelashes to compliment her reflection in the mirror.  "Absolutely stunning!" a sinister voice all to similar echoed in her ears and woke up the goose bumps down her back.  She turned head slightly to lurching image of  Lord Duluth.  He was leaning in the background of the dark hallway shadows with a grimace on his olive and pointy bearded face.  He was always a nuisance to her lady-in-waiting.  He quietly smacked his lips with satifaction as he observed her little, perfectly-lined, soft, and perched lips.  It was formed like a rosebud, with the top a bit smaller than the bottom.  Also, her lips were painted with red, allowed by her highness who thought of Rachel’s status almost as equal to royalty.  Rachel had no time today or any other to focus on the possible schemes of Lord Duluth.  He was never to be trusted.  Those words came directly from Princess Charlotte.  She reminded Rachel every morning, with a pressed smile from the tight grip of her lips, while powdered for the day's appearances. 

Unlike other lady-in-waiting personnel, Princess Charlotte demanded that Rachel represent her royal highness image to the fullest.  So Rachel was allowed to apply white paint to her face, with large streaks of rouge (red powder) on her cheeks, and a beauty patch that was a fake dotted mole.  Interestingly, royals and aristocrats showed their status and title wearing these type of cosmetics.  Earlier, Rachel supervised a team of staffers by observing and instructing the toilette (daily ceremonial dressing, which is for important persons such as royalty).  Also, Rachel circled the noisy crew of makeup artists and stylists who completed their duties pampering Princess Charlotte's face.   It was a normal fashion to fuss loudly while they properly fitted Princess Charlotte into her attire (clothes).  Sometimes the process was too ridiculous for Rachel who had no choice in the rules of the arrangements that was centuries old.  But, her orders were a lifelong commitment to serve in the house of Gwinfold the royal family's surname and crest.