Even though she really, really didn't want to, Claire found herself sitting in the washroom. Elizabeth was behind her preparing the dye.
It couldn't possibly be that bad could it? I'm probably just psyching myself up.
Despite her assurances, she felt sick to her stomach. Claire figured it would be best not to rock the boat too much. She'd already been acting very differently than Catherine normally would, and maybe it would be better to start slowly introducing changes.
However, now that she was staring down the barrel her resolve to do so was drastically diminishing. Elizabeth stopped behind Catherine with the concoction in hand.
"I'm ready to begin now Lady Catherine," Elizabeth stated.
Catherine's shoulders slumped. Now that Elizabeth had a better look at her she could immediately tell that something was wrong. She looked clammy and pale.
"Ma'am, are you feeling unwell again?" Elizabeth worriedly asked. "We can postpone this outing until another day."
Catherine was silent for a moment.
"I'm fine. Just-, Just get it over with."
Elizabeth reluctantly grabbed some of the dye out of the bowl and moved her hand to Catherine's hair, but as soon as Elizabeth touched it Catherine bolted up and out of the chair.
"No-, Nope. I can't do it...please Elizabeth get it out of my hair. Immediately!"
Elizabeth was taken aback. She had done this hundreds of times every day. Catherine often bemoaned the dye, but she always sat there diligently when it was time to apply it. What was different about it this time?
She's acting like I stuck a bat in her hair!
Catherine grabbed Elizabeth's arm startling her, "Please Elizabeth, please take it out."
Catherine looked like she was on the verge of tears. Shocking Elizabeth further.
"Of course, I'll get it out right away," she said flustered. "Just sit back down and I'll get the water."
Elizabeth moved as quickly as possible. Soon she was back with a pitcher full of water and a basin to remove the dye. The removal was quickly accomplished as very little actually made it into her hair.
Catherine immediately relaxed. The sickened state that had held her before immediately vanished. Elizabeth was utterly perplexed. She needed to ask her what was wrong but wanted to tread carefully.
"Um- Ma'am?" Elizabeth fidgeted uncomfortably.
Catherine didn't move from the chair.
"Yes, Elizabeth?" She replied starkly.
"Well, it's just that um-, I've never really seen you in such a state before."
Despite Catherine's assurances, they were now friends. Elizabeth was worried that anything even slightly over the line might break the balance. She would have left it alone if she didn't think it was important, but she reluctantly continued.
"I know Ma'am has disliked the dye before, but you had such a visceral reaction. What I'm trying to say is-. Well, what's different now?"
Catherine put her head down slightly. She was silent for a moment before sighing.
"The truth of the matter is Elizabeth…I don't really know why. I've always hated the feeling of that stuff in my hair," She unconsciously grabbed one of her locks.
"I just can't stand it anymore. Can we leave it at that?"
It wasn't exactly a great answer to the question, but it wasn't a lie or half-truth this time around. Claire prided herself on being able to sort through Catherine's memories with an outside perspective.
She could pinpoint exactly where all the trauma lay better than any psychiatrist possibly could. However, she was totally in the dark this time around.
Claire hadn't realized it yet, but she was quickly losing the second hand affection for the things that Catherine held in high regard. It would soon happen with Isiah, but it was already happening with her father.
She probably should have realized it sooner. Catherine didn't care for Elizabeth at all, but the doting parental figure reminded Claire so much of her own mother that it had essentially overwritten Catherine's disdain.
The white hair didn't remind Claire of the death of Emilia, and she thought the notion of blaming yourself for birthing complications was utterly ridiculous.
Unbeknownst to Claire the situation had mirrored itself, as the dyed hair only served to remind her of the duke's neglect.
But that wasn't what made her sick to her stomach. The reason Claire could not easily identify the problem was that it was her subconscious, not Catherine's that made her feel this way.
Going through all sorts of hell only to not be snubbed on any acknowledgment whatsoever was something Claire was well accustomed to, and her subconscious was done dealing with it.
The room had been silent for what seemed like a long time now.
"Of course Lady Catherine, if it makes you feel uncomfortable there's no reason to put yourself through it," Elizabeth said, breaking the silence.
"Besides I've always thought your natural hair color was far more beautiful."
Catherine shifted in the chair to look up at Elizabeth. She was smiling down at her. Her own smile came naturally and unconsciously. Not the evil smile she'd seen in the mirror earlier, but one of genuine joy.