I glance over at him. “Just what?”
“Please do not wear that outfit to the palace.”
I peer down at my hurriedly pulled together outfit.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“What’s right with it, Cupcake?! This is the palace you’re going to, not some dive bar in Slate.”
“It doesn’t matter what I wear,” I tell him.
“Cupcake, of course it does. First impressions count. Especially in a place like Onyx Quarter. Especially,especially, in the Empress’s palace in Onyx Quarter. You’ve seen how the shadow weaver kids dress. You’re the Princes’ thrall. You can’t turn up looking like you stepped out of a rummage sale.”
“You’re right,” I say.
“Duh! I’m always right.”
“Debatable. But I’ll concede that this time you might be.” He nods in agreement. “Fly,” I yelp, “help me.”
He jolts and jumps up onto his feet, then sprints across to my wardrobe and starts tossing clothes out onto the floor.
“There isn’t a lot to work with. Clare’s clothes were a vast improvement on your ratty garments–”
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“–But they won’t cut the mustard in Onyx.” He stands with his left arm crossed over his chest and taps his right fingers against his lips. “Ahhh,” he says, spinning on the spot and running away.
I stare at the mess on the floor. Were my clothes so awful he’s abandoned me altogether?
I search through the clothes myself, attempting to find something a little more suitable. I’ve just about scrabbled something together, when Fly walks into the room with several garments slung over his arms.
“I raided your boyfriends’ wardrobes. There are a few things here I think we can manipulate in a hurry. Obviously if I had time I could make you something–”
“There is no time,” I tell him.
“Fine,” he says, dropping the garments onto my bed and spreading them out. “I think this one will work best for your entrance,” he lifts an emerald-green shirt that sparkles under the light, “and you can take the others with you just in case you need more outfits.”
“I’m hoping we’ll be in and out of there quickly. We need to get to Fox.”
He unbuttons the shirt and holds it out for me. I take it from him and hesitate.
“Can you turn around please?” I ask him.
“Seriously, Cupcake? You know I’ve seen Clare Bear in her undies about a million times. It does nothing for me. It’s like looking at my mother.”
“Jeez, thank you,” I mutter. “But please can you turn around anyway. I’m … shy.”
“Shy?!” He chuckles but spins around so his back is facing me. I strip off my sweater and top as quickly as I can and pull on the shirt. “I used to live next door to you, Cupcake. You are not shy by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, I think you’re rather an exhibitionist, especially when it comes to–”
“How does it look?” I ask him, the buttons all fastened apart from the top two.
“It’s safe to look? I’m not going to catch a peek of bra or a flash of thigh?”
“It’s safe.”
He turns back around and examines me. “Hmmm.” He paces across the room, grabbing a few accessories from my wardrobe as well as the tassel tie that holds back my curtains. Then hespends the next few minutes trying different things and fussing over me until he’s satisfied.
“Take a look in the mirror,” he instructs me.
