Lady Carelip stood with the box of Queen Pirouette’s makeup, opened for inspection. The contents of the box were worth as much as some of the pieces in the Queen’s jewelry collection. The collective odor of all the jars was pungent and oily and with a tinge of uniquely feminine perfumes. The box itself had a satin lining and the lid was encrusted with semi-precious stones.
“Do you know what they put into mascara, Lady Carelip?” Posited Queen Pirouette to her new lady in waiting.
“I’m not quite sure, Your Majesty.”
“Well, the basis for mascara is simple charcoal; however, it is mixed with certain oils, waxes and strange, miniscule drops of exotic perfumes to create a thick, sticky liquid that’s as black as midnight.”
