“And that’s how we ended up with the job of creating a safe white face powder,” I said.
Later that day, I had returned to the workshop and was sat down for dinner with Marcus and Miina. I let out a long sigh when I thought about how much trouble this project would be.
“White powder?” Since the cosmetics were only popular among high society, neither Marcus nor Miina had ever heard of them. They seemed confused, so I gave them a simple explanation.
“It’s a pigment women use on their faces to look paler.”
“They want their skin to look even whiter?” Miina said, sounding impressed. “Noblewomen really go to a lot of trouble for their looks.” She took a bite of the potato gratin that was tonight’s main course.
I nodded in agreement. Miina didn’t need anything like that. Her own soft skin had a natural pink flush that was already plenty adorable. And even though my sister had lectured me about it, I didn’t think I needed any of that stuff either. Honestly, Dahlia was only a year older than me anyway; she didn’t need it!
“So, basically, they want you to make a white powder that blends into the skin and won’t cause harm?” Marcus confirmed.
“That’s right,” I said. “You’ll look like a ghost if the effect is too stark, so it should still have a soft, translucent quality while having enough coverage to hide any blemishes.” I thought back to how Mother and Dahlia looked with makeup on.
“Would potato starch be too common for high society? It’s guaranteed to be nontoxic since it’s a food,” Miina murmured, gazing down at the piece of potato on her fork.
“Potato starch?” I asked with confusion, since I wasn’t exactly experienced with cooking.
“There’s a very fine white powder on the surface of potatoes when you peel and cut into them. Normally you wash it off, but you get even more of it if you grate the potatoes. Maybe something using that powder could work.”
I mulled it over. She had a point: If we could make cosmetics out of something everyone normally ate anyway, it would be guaranteed to be safe.
“Let’s try it,” I said.
Once we were done with dinner, we decided to start experimenting with potato starch, so we went to the kitchen and got three potatoes.
“I’ll start by peeling and grating them,” Miina said. She worked quickly, grating the potatoes one after the other into a bowl. The shreds piled up fast.
“The fibers will get in the way, I think,” I said.
Sure enough, the grated potatoes mixed together with the fibers and liquid produced a wet mash. I could see the fine white powder Miina had described drifting at the bottom of the bowl; that was what we needed.
“Let’s try squeezing it through a coarse cloth,” Miina suggested. She asked Marcus to fetch her a clean cloth and another bowl, then set the cloth over the bowl and dumped the grated potato on top before tying it tightly with a length of twine. She then squeezed the bag of mash firmly as liquid and white powder filtered through the cloth and dripped into the bowl below.
“That doesn’t give us very much,” I said with a frown.
“Hmm…” Miina thought for a moment. “Then let’s knead it in the water and see if there’s more still trapped in there.” She poured more water over the bundle and massaged it for a while. As she pressed and swirled it around, the water turned a cloudy white, indicating there was still more starch left in the bag. We kept working like that until the water finally stopped clouding up, then let it sit.
What resulted was a reddish-brown liquid with a layer of white powder settled at the bottom. We carefully drained the excess powder, added fresh water one last time, then poured it away again until only the damp powder remained.
“All right, let’s leave this out to dry overnight and—” Miina began.
“No, let’s heat it up now and get rid of the moisture right away!” I interrupted, too eager to wait. I grabbed the bowl from her hands before she could protest, dumped the contents into a frying pan, then began to warm it over the stove. I was desperate to see the finished product as soon as possible.
“Look, it’s already turning a nice, clear white!” I said triumphantly, convinced I’d made the right call.
“Wait, why are some parts not drying out?” Marcus leaned over my shoulder, frowning in confusion.
Huh? That can’t be right…
“I’ll turn off the heat,” I said anxiously, then poked the mixture with a spatula. The white powder had turned into something halfway between sticky paste and jelly.
I felt an ominous presence at my back.
“Miss Daisy!” Miina’s voice trembled with anger. She snatched up the spatula, the quivering lump still clinging to it. Her hands shook so furiously the whole mess wobbled right along with them. “I worked so hard to make that powder!” she wailed.
Oh no, I really made Miina cry! Not only that, but her fluffy tail had puffed up to an unbelievable size, resembling a giant bottle brush. I’d really done it this time—she was furious!
“I’m sorry, Miina! It’s my fault! Please don’t cry!” I pulled out a handkerchief and started wiping her tears and the little dribble of snot from her nose.
“Promise me you won’t do anything like that again unless I say it’s okay,” she said with a sniffle, looking up at me with big eyes.
“I promise! I swear I won’t! But…can you please make another batch of that powder?” I pressed my palms together in front of her, bowing my head in apology.