The Fugitive

Disclaimer: The Alice books and the 2010 film are not mine. This is only for fun and no money is being made.

Chapter 7: Not So Wonderful Wonderland

"I am not wearing a corset!"

Alice's tone was determined. Unfortunately the three maids did not seem at all impressed by her statement.

"Now don't be foolish, Lady Alice."Elsabeth adopted the sort of patronising tone one might have used to address a stubborn child. "All ladies wear corsets."

"I don't!" Alice said firmly.

"But you did when you first arrived in Marmoreal," Katarina observed.

"Not by choice," Alice insisted. "And I have no intention of ever wearing one again!"

"Well you'll just have to put up with it," Drusilla told her. "We don't have any gown you can wear without one."

Alice gulped at the determined expressions on the three women's faces. They were obviously quite prepared to put the accursed thing on her forcibly. She darted a quick look at the corset Elsabeth was holding. It was one of the most fearsome pairs of stays she had ever seen, closely and heavily boned and certainly no more than about seventeen inches across the waist when fully closed. Alice shuddered at the thought of what being laced into it might do to her.

Alice tried to think through her options, but her mind was still oddly fuzzy. In her present state of weariness she doubted that she could have successfully taken on a kitten, let alone three vigorous young women. In any case she could hardly afford to offend Mirana by brawling with her servants. With growing dismay, Alice realised she had no real choice but acquiescence.

"All right," she said at last, giving in with a resigned sigh.

Before she could even blink the three maids surrounded her, and her hands were placed on the back of a chair as the corset was wrapped around her torso.

"Even in this world there seems to be no escaping these wretched things," Alice thought sadly, as she felt the whalebone, or whatever the Underland equivalent was, close menacingly around her ribcage.

The next few minutes proved to be extremely unpleasant. Over the last month Alice had, at the insistence of her mother and Lord Ascot, become accustomed to wearing corsets again. But the relatively modest lacing she had used was soon far exceeded by what she had to endure now. As Elsabeth and the others tightened the laces inexorably, the pressure on her chest and abdomen became unbearable and Alice started to panic, convinced she was going to pass out at any moment. Then, just as she was on the point of fainting, long forgotten habits reasserted themselves and her body remembered the old trick of breathing shallowly from the upper chest. Gradually Alice felt her panic subsiding, although she still felt very uncomfortable.

As Elsabeth tied off the laces, Alice held on to the chair and tried to calm herself and steady her breathing. She had not had to cope with being tight laced so severely in years, not since leaving the ghastly finishing school she had been sent to about a year after her father's death. She had spent three years there at her mother's insistence, who vainly hoped it might transform her rebellious younger daughter into a proper lady, and the place had been an endless nightmare of tight corsets, boring lessons, hard beds and indigestible meals.

Now the maids started bustling about her again, helping her don stockings and shoes. At their invitation she raised her arms and the blue gown was pulled over her head and the back quickly buttoned up. Alice would have liked the chance to pause for a moment and see how she looked in it, but it seemed her torment was not yet over.

Before she knew what was happening, Alice found herself seated in front of the dressing table to have her hair and makeup done. Alice was used to having her hair arranged, although she usually preferred it down, but being made up was something new to her. In polite English society cosmetics were considered improper; only actresses and prostitutes wore makeup, and in most people's minds there was little difference between the two. Having traveled extensively among different cultures Alice had long since abandoned such prejudices, but she had never used cosmetics herself and initially watched the process of being made up with fascination.

But as the various paints and powders were applied to her skin she started to feel increasingly uneasy. Alice couldn't help feeling as though her very personality was being erased and she was being transformed, against her will, into someone completely different.

Not for the first time, she found herself wondering why so many women felt obliged to change themselves, whether it was altering their features through cosmetics or changing the shape of their body with restrictive undergarments. It was true in her own world and it seemed to be the same in Underland; she herself appeared to be the only exception. Why couldn't women just accept themselves the way they were?

The maids appeared to be finished with her at last, and now they encouraged her to stand in front of the cheval glass to see the results of their handiwork. Alice stared at what she saw reflected in the mirror with undisguised astonishment.

There was no denying that the young woman she saw in the glass was absolutely stunning. The cosmetics had heightened her normally understated prettiness into a vivid and sensual beauty, while the tight laced corset and perfectly fitted gown had sculpted her modest curves into a figure of breathtaking voluptuousness.

"But it's not me," Alice thought a little sadly. "It's not me at all!"

The door to her chambers suddenly opened and Mirana stepped in. She glided over to Alice and embraced her warmly.

"Oh my dear Alice!" she exclaimed. "You're looking simply exquisite! How do you feel?"

Alice grimaced. "Like a tightly trussed and gaudily decorated joint of meat!"

"Oh nonsense!" Mirana laughed. "You look wonderful!"

Alice darted a quick look at her maids. They were all frowning and looking rather downcast and she couldn't help but feel a little guilty about her bluntness. It wasn't that she didn't like the way they had made her look because she had to admit, grudgingly and only to herself, that she did. She just didn't think it was worth all the time, effort and discomfort involved.

"I'm sorry," she apologised. "Thank you for all your help."

The three women smiled and nodded, looking a bit happier.

"Come along now, Alice," Mirana said. "The ball is almost about to start and the guest of honour should not be late."

Reluctantly, Alice followed the White Queen out of her chambers. She had no idea what to expect of this occasion and was not looking forward to it at all. For now she was just focusing on keeping calm and trying to get through the evening without fainting.

She didn't feel particularly sanguine about her chances.