When I tear open my package, I gasp. Inside is the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen: a long silky gown in a striking midnight-blue colour, featuring a corset bodice and ribboned straps.
Taron’s package contains a suit and a note.
Hope these fit. A solarcraft will collect you at six. Don’t disappoint me.
Sincerely, Madame Vera
I serve customers and take orders for the rest of the day, but I can’t stop thinking about the packages. How did Madame Vera know where to find us? Did Taron notify her? I doubtit. I’ve been at his side the entire time, apart from when we were working and, even then, he was under the scrutiny of Mr Bo.
“How did she know?” I ask, when we finally head back to our room at the end of our afternoon shift.
“What do you mean?” Taron asks.
“We never told Madame Vera where we’re staying.” I watch his face, studying his reaction. “Unless you did?”
There’s not a twitch in his brow. “I didn’t have to. She has eyes and ears everywhere.”
“Who is she?”
“We should get dressed.”
I’m not ready to let it go, but I do. My focus now should be on the banquet, anyway.
The dress Madame Vera sent fits perfectly, almost as though it were made especially for me. It hugs my curves and shimmers in the light as I move. The blue silky fabric is unlike anything I’ve ever worn, and I try not to think about what it must’ve cost. How many weeks of rent could it have afforded Elara and me in the cottage?
I emerge from the washroom to find Taron dressed in matching midnight-blue trousers and a waistcoat that fits him like a glove. His light-blue dress shirt’s top two buttons are casually undone, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows.
As he adjusts one of the sleeves, another faded scar reveals itself on the back of his forearm, spreading across his skin like lightning. It’s intricate, and it intrigues me.Yet another piece of the grand old puzzle that is Taron’s life before all of this.
“You clean up nicely,” I say, but Taron barely glances at me. He’s been reluctant to speak to me, brooding ever since the incident with the street urchin.
“Your dress is undone,” he says. “The ribbon at the back, I mean.”
“What… Oh…” Heat flares across my cheeks. I reach behind my dress where a silky ribbon is meant to be criss-crossing down my spine. I’d been so distracted by the beauty of the dress, I completely forgot to do it up.
My hands are clumsy as I struggle to feed the ribbon through the loops, twisting awkwardly. I should have done this before I got dressed.
I catch Taron watching me in the mirror while doing up his bow tie. He quickly looks away, but a quirk to his lips betrays him.
“Is something amusing you?” I snap.
“Yeah.You.” He turns with his hands in his pockets. It’s the briefest movement, but his gaze floats across my collarbone before springing back up to my eyes. “How long are you willing to struggle before asking for help?”
“I can do up my own dress, thank you very much.”
“Without dislocating a shoulder?”
Another failed attempt at feeding the ribbon through the loops makes me sigh. “Fine. I might … need some assistance.”
Taron isn’t even bothering to hide his smile any more.He tilts his head in a way that beckons me closer, and I position myself in front of the mirror with him towering over my shoulder.
I can feel his presence against my bare back, and silk folds beneath my fingers as I brush my hands awkwardly against my skirt.
“How does this thing work, anyway?” Taron asks, eyeing the ribbons in his hands. He feeds either end through a loop, and his touch is surprisingly gentle. “Like this?”
I turn in the mirror. “Yeah, that looks right.”
“Easy work.” Taron moves slowly and with maddening care. His touch ghosts over my skin. I keep still, watching him in the mirror, tracing the small faded scar on his lip. He’s focused, but then his eyes flicker up, just briefly, to meet mine in the glass.
