34
Lana
Iturn and look at the back of my dress in the mirror. It’s ethereal and flowing—nothing like the gray academy clothes that I’m used to—and the back is kind of low. The Larenoan marks along my spine undulate as I move, and my horns glint in the light.
“I think maybe there’s too much eyeliner?” I lean closer to the mirror.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Tilda runs her fingers through my hair again. “You’re perfect. You’ve got that casual hair look that everyone knows takes hours to do, and the makeup is spot on. You just need a bolder lip than what you usually wear, and you’re all set.”
I frown. “I hope Latrides is warm, because this dress is a bit bare for my tastes.”
“It is. At least, I think it is.” She shrugs and turns me around to apply lip color, which takes far longer than any makeup ever should. When she stops, I try to turn and look, but she smacks my arm.
“I have two more shades to go. Stay still.”
I groan and let her have her way. She lives for girly stuff like this, so the least I can do is let her do her thing. After all, I want to make a good impression on Kyte’s people. Not that I’m nervous and want to vomit at the thought of millions of Calarians judging me and maybe thinking I’m not good enough for their golden prince.
I groan. “I need to sit down.”
“Here.” Tilda sits me on the bed and keeps working as I take deep breaths.
“Kyte loves you. You’re going to be fine. The ceremony won’t last that long. All you have to do is stand there and look pretty, but not too pretty since it’s a funeral after all.”
“I think the dress is too pretty.”
“No, this is what they wear on Latrides. Trust me. Their female fashion is pretty much the most feminine and floaty and pastel in all the galaxies. You are perfect.”
“But they have blonde hair.”
“You want to change your hair?”
“No,” I say quickly. “I was more just thinking that it’s going to be obvious I’m not one of them.”
“That’d be obvious even if your hair was as gold as Kyte’s blood.” She smiles and pulls back. “All done. Check it.” She gestures to the mirror.
I inspect my deep red lips. “I only see one shade.”
“That means I did my job right.” She packs up her expansive makeup kit, then flops back on the bed. “I need meat and a nap.”
“You sure you don’t want to come with us?” I sit beside her again.
“No. You’re going through a wormhole to get there in time for the ceremony.” She crosses herself. “Not my thing.”
“I understand.” A huge number of Granterries died in the Great Calamity by getting caught in Sentient wormhole traps. Tilda is not a fan. “Hey, how do we know there isn’t a trap in the one we’re traveling through?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” She taps the side of her nose with a long black nail.
“Not helping with my nerves.” I stand and pace for a moment, then force myself to stay put. The more I move, the more chances I’ll mess up the look Tilda spent hours creating.
“They’re coming.”
“Hm?” I ask right as a knock comes at Tilda’s door.
“I’m ready.” I head over, and it swings open before I reach it.
Kyte stands there, his hair neater than I’ve ever seen it. But his eyes are wide as he takes in my dress.
“Pillars.” He licks his lips. “You are a beauty the likes of which Latrides has never seen.”
