“Pardon?” Noelle raised her eyebrows.
Levit cleared his throat, the natural brown of his skin turning a ruddy shade with a fearsome blush. “To get re-dressed, in something better.” He pinched his nose and sighed. “I have not had tea yet and it is early. You’re all going to the tailor today to get fitted for gowns for the pre-tournament ball! And a suit, in your case, Cullen.”
“And here I wanted to wear a gown.” Cullen lounged back in the chair with a lazy smirk.
“If you want to wear a gown, I won’t stop you.” Levit shrugged. “But the senators will have final approval on your attire to make sure you ‘properly represent Solaris.’ So it’d be your father you have to convince.”
Noelle groaned. “Yemir has theworstfashion sense.” She glanced sideways. “No offense, Cullen.”
“None taken.” Cullen shrugged, as if the fact was well known.
“We’ll leave shortly after breakfast,” Levit decreed. “So be ready to be made into your best selves.”
25
The tailor was a posh spot called LOOM AND WREN. Bolts of fabric were stacked against every wall and sumptuous materials stretched across tables and chairs down the long shop. The seamstress was a morphi woman named Estal. Her hair was woven into intricate braids that were piled atop her head like an upside-down basket. She took great pride in the style, proclaiming she’d worn it thusly in honor of her Solaris guests. “After all,” she’d said, “The Crown Princess Solaris always has her hair pinned in such beautiful braids.”
There were two fitting rooms in the back of the store. In the middle were two pedestals flanked by mirrors. Noelle and Cullen went first. As Eira and Alyss waited up front, getting lost in the seemingly endless depths of fabrics in every color and texture, the other two were taken back to the fitting rooms. They emerged and were promptly placed on the pedestals for review.
“How did you…” Alyss murmured, rounding Noelle. “How did you make a dress in a mere fifteen minutes?”
“Darling, some morphi can use the shift to make plants grow or carve stone. Some perfect their animal forms. As for me? Textiles are my muse and canvas.” Estal lovingly ran her fingers along the hem of Noelle’s gown. “What do you think, dear?”
The conversation faded from Eira’s awareness as the whole world seemed to narrow on Cullen. On his hair, perfectly brushed to one side, messy locks insisting on framing his face in an imperfectly perfect way. They had dressed him in a deep purple, almost black. Intricate designs were woven into the fabric with golden thread that reminded Eira vaguely of the paintings she’d seen in the mysterious room at the top of the Archives. He was a blend of traditional Solaris handsome, rough around the edges in a way that only Eira could see, with elements of the fashions of Meru. As she looked on him then, she wondered how she could’ve ever seen any other man but him.
“Well? Am I presentable?” Cullen asked her with a small smile.
“Barely.” She gave him the makings of a coy grin.
He snorted. “‘Barely’ is the best I can hope for most days.”
“You look amazing,” she said earnestly. “Like the first time we went to court. No, better.”
“Youwere the one who looked amazing that day. I still cannot believe how flattering that dress was on you. I should have known I was done for then and there.” He stared down at her in admiration. The way the emotions softened his expression made him raw. She hadn’t kissed him for a few days now and that was a few too many.
“Sorry to make you wait.” Yemir forced himself into their conversation and moment. Eira took a step away.
“It’s fine, Father.” Cullen brought his eyes from Yemir to her. For a second, she was worried he might say something that would betray them. But he didn’t. Eira clutched her hands in front of her, trying to tighten her fingers to the point that she would have a firm grasp on her emotions as well. But a deep ache that had started this morning at the mention of her family still rode on her undercurrents.
“We’ll need some adjustments to be made here…and here…” Yemir quickly dominated the conversation with tailoring talk. He’d had little to say on Noelle. But when it came to his son, Estal would need almost an entire book to record all of the senator’s demands.
One of Estal’s attendants saved Eira from drowning in her thoughts. “Miss, would you like to come back now? The mistress will be held up a moment, but we can start getting you situated.”
“Oh, yes, sure.”
Eira followed the young woman to the back corner of the store. There was a rear door positioned between walls of curtains on either side. The attendant brought Eira into the fitting room, asked her to wait there, and left by pulling the curtain shut behind her. The heavy velvet muffled the conversations still happening in the center of the store. But Eira was certain that Yemir would keep Estal busy for a while yet. She might as well get comfortable while she waited.
Unfortunately, there was no chair in the room, just a large, gilded mirror leaning against one wall. Eira was going to sit on the floor when movement caught her eye. She hardly had time to react before a hand clamped over her mouth and the voice of her nightmares filled her ear.
“Don’t shout, pet. We don’t want everyone to know I’ve come to pay you a visit,” Ferro whispered.
Eira forced her muscles to relax and Ferro released her. The room was suddenly darker, dingier. Everything beyond the curtains was gone. Had it ever really been there to begin with? Or had this whole thing been an illusion like the one outside her window in the Pillars?
Was she still in the pit?
A part of her always would be.
“You came for me.” Eira forced calm serenity onto her features. She stared up at him as if he were a god. There was an unnatural sharpness to Ferro. His skin had a luster she didn’t remember it having before. His hair seemed extra tousled in an intentional way. As if he had just come from the beach…or a tumble in the bedroom. The latter thought made her shudder.
