A young woman passed by with a basket looped over her arm, her steps light and dainty. Her hips naturally swayed from side to side, and she placed each of her feet directly in front of the other like she was walking along a line. Another woman paused outside a shop window, looking at her reflection and adjusting a loose curl near her temple.
I shifted my weight, suddenly aware of the manly way in how I stood. My feet were firmly planted shoulder-width apart with my hands shoved deep into my pockets. What would it feel like to walk like those women did? I tried to imitate a few steps like I’d seen the others do and immediately felt foolish.
I kept to the shadows until I passed a darkened window of an abandoned shop and snuck a look at my own reflection. There was my short blonde hair, still uneven from where I regularly hacked it off myself. My clothes hung far too loosely to define anything, just the way I’d intended them.
I looked like a boy.
Always a boy.
No wonder Roderick and Peter had laughed at the idea of me in a dress. I didn’t look dainty or girly at all. My family would never recognize me, and Lochlan would never think of me as anything other than a little brother. With a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, I looked back at the window and tried to soften my expression so I looked more feminine and less like I was about to kill someone. I even attempted a gentle smile like I had seen on other women.
It looked foreign to my face, but not entirely unpleasant.
In the reflection of the shop’s window, a couple passed behind me, the man leaning slightly toward the woman as she spoke. He smiled at something she said, his attention entirely fixed on her as though the rest of the world had ceased to exist. I slowly turned so I could see his expression better.
My chest tightened. I wanted Lochlan to look at me that way.
Was it so bad to crave being noticed as a woman? Being a woman was dangerous in a way that being a man wasn’t, but it also had advantages. A man in love would do anything for the woman he desired. He did everything differently, from how he spoke to her to the way he defended her against anyone who might try to harm her.
Lochlan had protected me. He’d run into a burning building to make sure I was safe. That had to count for something. Then again, I had run into that same burning building to protect those who were still imprisoned, and I hadn’t had any romantic feelings for any of them. Maybe Lochlan doing the same for me didn’t matter as much as I’d hoped.
I dragged my gaze away from the couple, who had continued hand in hand down the street, and I went on, walking with my familiar, masculine gait.
Farther into the market, a gaggle of girls clustered near a fabric stall, laughing as they compared ribbons and lace. One of them twirled slightly, her skirt fanning out around her as she beamed at the others.
I slowed to watch, strangely mesmerized. If I went to a wedding with Lochlan and wore a dress, what would he think? Surely, no one would recognize me. I’d been disguised as a boy for so long that reverting back to a girl for a single night would be the best disguise of all.
My fingers curled slightly at my sides. I’d never considered myself a coward, but I wasn’t sure I had the bravery to dressand act in a way that would allow Lochlan to look at me and see anything other than a partner in crime.
I exhaled slowly and straightened, adjusting my posture just slightly to be less rigid and guarded. It felt unnatural but not bad. I held it and watched a passing woman again. She strode delicately, with soft steps instead of briskly striding. Taking small steps wasn’t so difficult. I could do that.
Instead of trying to sway my hips back and forth like the first woman, I simply took smaller, more measured steps. Encouraged, I continued those more ladylike steps until I came to a dress shop.
“Excuse me,” I said to the tailor inside.
The tailor turned with a smile. “Ah, Lochlan’s apprentice! I’ve seen your booth in town. What can I do for you, lad?”
My temporary surge of bravery faltered. “I’m looking for a dress for my…twin sister. She’s about my size. It’s to be a gift for her, but I don’t know anything about dresses. Can you pick one for her?”
The tailor tilted my cap back to study my face. “Similar complexion to you?”
“Basically exactly the same,” I told him, cheeks flushing a little. “Close to my height and weight, too.”
“I have just the thing.” He bent behind his counter and emerged with a bright pink dress splashed with sunshine yellow flowers.
Icouldn’twear that. A dress was frightening enough by itself without wearing one that would scream at everyone to look at me.
“She likes darker colors,” I said hastily. “Do you have anything like that?”
Most thankfully, he returned the bright pink gown to its place on the shelf and turned to pick through some of the dressesall hung up side by side. “A blue would probably look nice. Here.”
He pulled out a modest, unassuming dark blue gown with a high neckline and sleeves that came down to the elbows. The tailor studied it. “It isn’t as flattering as the other, but…”
“I’ll take it,” I said in a rush. “That looks perfect for her.”
“You’re a very kind brother,” he said as he wrapped up the gown. “Tell her she’s lucky to have a brother like you.”
“Thanks, I’ll tell her,” I said, handing over the coins and taking the parcel. “I really hope she likes how it looks on her.”
