Miss Celeste paused as she weighed her options. How could she agree to Anna’s terms? If practicing black magic wasn’t a cardinal sin, then helping a child
practice witchcraft would surely earn her a place among the eternally damned.
Celeste began to run her hands down the dark blue velvet of her dress, but her porcelain palms and fingers could no longer feel the smoothness of its nap. She
shuddered as she thought about what her body might look like underneath the thick clothing. Her arms, legs, and torso were most likely just cloth covered
approximations of their human form, their flesh turned to sawdust or dried beans. And her female parts were probably lost; her hopes for motherhood gone
forever.
Well, they would not be gone forever if she played along with Anna. In the two years since she had become Anna’s governess, she had seen her charge mature
into an unswervingly loyal, steadfast, and honest young lady. She knew that Anna loved her very much, and that when Anna had offered to share Circe’s powers
with her, it was as Anna’s equal, not as her pet or plaything. Anna might keep her in this silly doll form for a few hours, but soon enough Anna would change her
back.
And then there was the matter of Circe. She remembered the Greek mythology her father had taught her as a child; of how this evil sorceress had turned
Odysseus’ men to swine and then seduced him into staying on her island for five long years. If that ancient witch was the source of Anna’s newfound powers,
someone had to protect Anna from her corrupting influence. Someone whom she loved. Someone whom she trusted. Someone whom she respected, and maybe
even feared.
But most off all, someone who was not just a figurine, or a clock, or a rug, or a porcelain doll gathering dust on a shelf. Although Anna was a very good girl, she
could also be temperamental, even momentarily cruel, if she did not get her way. As much as she knew Anna loved her, Miss Celeste also knew that if provoked,
she might easily condemn her to a lifeless existence as a piece of bric-a-brac or household furniture. An existence that would, under the influence of her evil new
mentor, stretch on for an eternity.
Miss Celeste blinked as a tear the size of a water bucket splashed momentarily blinded her. She looked up at Anna. Her impossibly large face was bright pink and
glistening from tears. She was so much like Katerine, the youngest of her sisters. She was a year younger than Anna, still living with her parents back home in Lyon.
"Miss Celeste," Anna snuffled. "Are you still going to tell Mother?"
"I won’t tell, on one condition."
"What’s that?"
"That you change me back to normal by the time of your piano lesson."
Anna wrapped her fingers around Miss Celeste’s soft cloth body and hugged her to her chest. "Okay!" she cried as she bounced to her feet. She twirled around
the room, smothering the governess’ porcelain face with kisses as she spun.
"This is going to be the best tea party, ever!" shouted Anna as Miss Celeste became the first person to ever experience airsickness.