The smile that spreads across my face is genuine, but mostly born from relief to have at least one viable option.
“Lady Arlet,” Thorne says. “I have much to discuss with you. Dismiss your maids, and then you must select a dressmaker.”
I don’t like being rushed, but I let it rest and let them leave as I walk to the other side of the room, where the gowns still hang in all their splendor, their creators standing next to them. I stare, gobsmacked, when the first to enter is an older human. A woman with thin lips and a sharp frown.
I thought there weren’t supposed to be humans integrated into the elven court? And yet, there she is. Are there others like her? And if so, where?
I try not to stare, instead turning my attention to the hanging garments.
Each gown has its own flair, but each of the fabrics is as fine as any magic-spun stone silk in the Enduar Mountains. Without thinking, I approach the first gown closest to me, one in a pale green with silver brocade, a velvet bodice and overskirt, and silk inserts near the legs. I can see the impressive train pooling on the floor, and when I touch the fibers, I practically sigh.
I’ve never made anything as beautiful as this, and I likely never will.
I blink away the sudden onset of emotion and then say, “This is exquisite. Excellent velvet.”
The dressmaker, an elf with seemingly no expression other than a straight-ahead stare, nods.
The next dress, the one made by the human, is a deep blush pink and reminds me of flower petals. Leaf-light sheer fabric is attached to the neckline and half sleeves, clearly meant to be worn around the forearm, creating an elegant cape-like effect. The neckline is more romantic, with pleated fabric molded to the shape of my bust.
I am reminded of the last time I was given a pink dress to wear. The night of the ritual with the human witches on the island. My chest constricts. Did Arion know about that night?
I mean, Thorne could’ve told him. When they took me from the island, it was what I was wearing.
“Thank you,” I say, and continue on quickly to the final dress. It is by far the most opulent of the three. It looks like actual metal has been sewn—no, fused—to the fabric. Sparkling diamonds and gems weigh down the tulle skirts, while chiffon sleeves and a neckline of rich ocean blue adorn the rest of the gown. I realize that a matching headdress has been placed next to the gown.
The craftsmanship is something I would’ve imagined to have come from the caves, not the forests. It looks like something a metal-bending Enduar could create, which makes me even more curious.
Especially since most diamonds on this continent come from a single region.
I point to one of the clusters of jewels.
“Are these…?”
“Enduar diamonds, my lady,” the final dressmaker says.
I swallow hard. This feels like a test. This whole gown is beautiful, much more to my taste than the other two, and yet I can’t help but think that if I pick it, I will be making the wrong choice.
I can’t let any sort of allegiance give these people a reason to dislike me more. Fixing my posture, I step away from the gowns.
My heart is drawn to the blue, and my chest tightens over the pink—especially knowing it is made by one of my own people. I wish I could speak with her, learn more about her life in this mysterious place.
But won’t that be the wrong choice, too?
My gaze settles on the final dress. Arion loves green. The colors of Arion’s insignia are green.
“I pick this one,” I say softly, reaching out to touch the velvet again.
“Excellent choice,” Thorne says, then claps once. The women begin boxing up their creations and leaving the room. For some reason, there is a distinct tension in the space. The air shifts, and something churns in my gut.
If the quirked corners of his mouth and the eased tension of Thorne’s forehead are any indication, I’ve made the right choice, but something still feels wrong.
Once we are alone, and only the dress I picked is left, I turn to face Thorne.
“Strange that they already had my measurements. Not just for this, but all the dresses you brought,” I say casually. “Just how many times did you invade my home before you finally left that horrible serpent to kill me?”
He rolls his eyes.
“You were on that boat with me for quite some time—it wasn’t hard. Besides all that, my dear, the plan was never to kill you. It was to give you a minor controlling curse. You’re being dramatic.”