Page 83 of A Dance Of Twilight

Page List
Font Size:

Could I really leave Norok when he needed me? Or Talia? They may turn her into Dorian’s wife if I flee. Maybe they’d

come after me, seeing as I was now heir to the throne.

But if I stayed, I would become a shell of myself. A puppet for Dorian to use and abuse. And I would regret it every single

day for the rest of my life.

“What is your name?” I asked, again, hoping he’d answer me.

He sighed, rolling his eyes, and leaned back on his ankles. He crossed his arms in front of me as his blue eyes returned to

normal.

“If I tell you, you will not be pleased.”

“Please, I need to know before I allow you to take me with you.”

He stood up abruptly just as the library door swung over and Mother marched in, followed by many of her lady’s maids.

They all had angered looks on their faces. When I looked in front of me again, I saw that my shadow man was no longer here

with me. I questioned if he was truly a figment of my imagination. Someone I made up in my mind to cope with the loneliness I

had grown up with.

“You cannot hide here forever Ornella. We have to get you fitted for your wedding gown!” Mother ordered.

I was pulled from the stool, escorted out of the library and down the tower stairs. My head lowered with each step, as the

feeling of hopelessness was determined to sink in.

“Come to me tonight, I must know everything before I agree.”

I sent out the thought, hoping he would hear and wished deeply I would receive the answers I needed to escape.

A s the seamstress pulled at the corset ribbons of my undergarment, her assistant accidentally poked a needle or two under

my armpit as she leaned different shades of blush pink fabric, making me wince. The seamstress was quick to smack a hand

on the back of her assistant's head. I wanted to shout at her as I hated any violence. But Mother sat there, keeping a watchful

eye on me as she flipped through a book lined with different fabrics.

“Maria, I think this one will be best for the skirt.”

She handed the book to her lady’s maid who quickly showed the seamstress, Maria. Maria nodded in agreement and

continued her work, circling around me like a vulture awaiting its prey.

I felt exposed and hated every second I stood on the dress tool with all eyes on me. Talia at some point walked in and

squealed with excitement as she saw them dress me up in different garments, trying to pick a base.

We were using the under sheet of Lady Gelda’s wedding dress for the base of mine. Well, what would have been her dress.

Ridiculous. I couldn’t wait to escape, run up to my bedroom and demand answers from my saviour.

I wondered if I should just accept his offer and run away with him. I’d be like all those damsels in the stories. Shouldn’t I