"Well, I should get going," Kael said, saving me from further embarrassment. "Still have a few more vendors to hit. But it was good seeing you, Amara."
The way he said my name made my stomach flip.
"You too," I managed.
He nodded to my mother, then started to walk away.
But he paused, turning back.
"Amara?"
"Yeah?"
Those hazel-green eyes held mine. Steady. Sure.
"For what it's worth? You're going to look beautiful. At the gala."
My mother made a small sound beside me.
I couldn't even muster up words and was about to faint from lack of air. Kael smiled, soft and genuine, then disappeared into the crowd.
"Well," my mother said, fanning herself dramatically. "He's gorgeous. And clearly interested."
"Mom, stop."
"I'm just saying, sweetheart. That man looked at you like you were the only person in this entire market."
Had he, I wondered.
I replayed the moment in my head. The way his eyes had found me. The way he'd smiled. The way he'd said I'd look beautiful. Not "you'll look nice" or "have fun."
No, he'd most definitely said that I was going to look beautiful.
"Come on," my mother said, linking her arm through mine. "Let's go find you a dress that'll make that baker's jaw drop."
Marchand's was everything I expected. The floors were pristine and made of white marble. Above us were crystal chandeliers sparkling in the pale winter light filtering through the tall windows. Dresses that cost more than my car displayed on mannequins like works of art.
A saleswoman approached immediately, her smile practiced and professional.
"Welcome to Marchand's. How can we help you today?"
"My daughter needs a gown for the Solas Valentine Gala," my mother said, already walking toward the formal wear section like she owned the place.
The saleswoman's eyes lit up. "Oh, how wonderful! The Solas Valentine Gala is such a prestigious event. I have to show you our latest collection."
I followed behind them, feeling more and more like I was being dressed up for auction.
My mother started pulling dresses off the rack immediately. There were sleek column gowns and fitted mermaid styles. She seemed to pick up anything that would show off my figure instead of letting me breathe in it.
"Here," my mother said, thrusting three dresses into my arms. "Go try these on."
Once I was in the fitting room, I immediately noticed it was larger than my bathroom at home. There was plush red carpeting and a velvet bench for me to sit my items on. Even the lighting seemed to be both flattering and honest.
Slowly, I removed my clothes and tried on the first gown.
It was a black column gown that clung to every curve. In theory it was beautiful, but in practice it made me feel exposed. Vulnerable.
Like everyone would be able to see exactly how much space I took up.
