ISKERA
My room is a clutter of dresses and makeup essentials under Grace's ministration, and my heart is a clutter of emotions, ranging from nervousness, to excitement, to fear.
The air in the suite feels thick, charged with the scent of expensive perfumes and the looming shadow of the night ahead. This is because I don't think Vane was telling the truth when he mentioned that he had told his father about me, about what had happened at my pack a day ago.
Since today, I've been sitting on needles, in fear, waiting for the gates to be burst through, for the King to demand my presence and annihilation. But so far, everything and every place has been quiet.
The silence of the estate is almost deafening. Which meant Vane lied to me. I just can't see his father being lenient enough to wait for me to be introduced to the entire region, as every royal family and the nobles of every pack will be at the ball tonight, including my family.
No, the man rumored to be as strong as he is wicked would root me out so that I won't infest the party. Vane probably lied to soothe my fears, but it succeeded only to triple them.
Which brings me to more fear and nervousness. What awaits me at the ball? What awaits me and Vane? What is his plan?
He is really a closed-off book, and I can't even read anything on his face, no matter how hard I stare into those silver eyes.
And for why I'm feeling a tiny, whining bit of excitement, it's only because I will be seeing Seren again, and the others, including Rian. I know it's petty—downright vengeful, even—but I want them to see me in my new dress. I want them to see the girl they threw away.
"Princess… I'm not sure why you are smiling now, but it's creepy."
Grace's voice breaks my trance, and I realize she is standing before me, her arms laden with fabric. She must have finally picked the perfect dress.
"Oh, it's okay, Grace… just thinking…" I say, looking at the two dresses in her hands.
"Which do you think fits? I've been caught in some sort of limbo…"
I frown at her words. Why she would think that I'm the best person to come to for advice, even on my own outfit, is beyond me. I have no taste whatsoever in fashion—not that there was fashion in my life before I met Vane.
But I try. After all, I'm the one to be dressed.
I appraise them carefully. The first is a sky-blue princess gown, a frothy creation of tulle and silk accented with silver embroidery that looks like fallen stars. It is beautiful, safe, and soft.
The second is a gothic black ball gown, and it is tremendously beautiful. The bodice is structured with precise needlework, featuring intricate lace that looks like frost on a windowpane, and the skirt is a heavy, shimmering midnight silk that seems to swallow the light of the room.
It comes with dark, feathered attachments and a silver-boned corset that looks more like armor than attire.
'The black one,' Nox's voice is a hungry purr.
I scoff mentally. Of course, she will take the black one.
But if I'm being truthful, the black one called to me more; it seemed like me more. It felt like the darkness I've been hiding finally finding a shape. So I point at the black one.
"I will take that…"
Grace looks doubtful, her brow furrowing as she holds the dark fabric. "To be honest, I'm not sure why I chose this from the pile, but it seems like you… but I didn't want to seem like I was boxing you in or something…"
I like Grace, really. She's the only one who treats me like a person instead of a ticking bomb.
I smile. "It's okay. I love it, thank you."
She nods, then mutters, as if to herself. "Means your facebeat will have to align with the theme of the dress then. It's just that…"
"Just that what?"
"The party is a festive one… one that should herald and celebrate the joining of Prince Vane to the Vampire Countess... Won't it be odd to wear black to such a thing?"
Now that she puts it that way… I sigh. Enough issues will arise from just my presence at the ball; do I have to make it worse by wearing a color that they say is mournful?
Although for the life of me, I don't know who made such a decree about colors.
'Doesn't matter,' Nox says, her influence pressing against my chest.
'Go with the black. Let's go all out. After all, isn't that what the Prince is after? Chaos. As his wife-to-be, you should support your husband.'
I roll my eyes, tweaking my lips when Grace frowns at the movement. I wonder what she must think now… that I'm rolling my eyes at her words? Oh well.
"The black will do. I'm sure they will understand."
Her expression says they won't, but she nods and drapes the dress across the chair, moving away to return the blue dress to the bed.
My phone dings then. I pick it up from the dresser, inhaling sharply through my mouth when I see the message from Vane.
"Are you done?"
Shit.
"Grace! We have to hurry up. The Prince will soon be here."
I look at the clock. 6:35 PM.
Oh shit! We are going to be late, and I have a feeling Vane is not a man who enjoys waiting.