Gabrielle tossed the offending dress into the air, and it floated as if suspended from the ceiling. She waved her hand, causing every seam of the dress to rip itself apart.
“What are you doing?” Evelyn cried out as scraps of fabric fell into a pile on the carpet.
“Perhaps the maids need new cleaning rags.” Gabrielle snapped her fingers at her assistants, who stripped Evelyn’s dress off. Then her eyes narrowed on Evelyn’s chest. “Where did you get that?”
Evelyn had been laced into a corset, but her new locket was visible without a dress to cover it.
Shit. Ritter told me not to let anyone see the necklace, and I’ve already failed.
“It was a gift,” Evelyn said.
“And what need does a princess have for Lochmatten magic?”
How does Gabrielle recognize it? I don’t even know what it is!
“I’m not using its magic. I don’t even know how. I’m just wearing it.”
The dressmaker studied Evelyn for several long seconds. “Fine. Keep your secrets, pale princess.”
She really hates Carrowmore.
The two ladies put Evelyn into a sleek, floor-length black gown that hugged her curves. The square neckline and thin straps showed slightly more skin than Evelyn would have picked for a funeral, but it was flattering. When the silk fabric was completely still, it simply appeared black. But any movement made the dress sparkle like flickering stars.
“It’s gorgeous!” Evelyn gasped. “But is it appropriate?”
“It’s appropriate if I say it is,” Gabrielle declared.
Fair enough.
Gabrielle inspected Evelyn in the dress but had far fewer notes of things to fix than last time.
“Take her out of that now,” she told the assistants before returning to the closet.
Evelyn was back to just her undergarments when Gabrielle asked the scariest question the princess had ever heard.
“Where is the blue gown you wore to the ball?”
Evelyn froze.
Maybe if I don’t move, she won’t see me.
“Answer me, girl,” Gabrielle demanded.
“It’s being cleaned,” Evelyn lied.
“No, it is not. My team would be the ones cleaning it.”
“I… I don’t know, then.”
“Tell me where the gown is before I send you to the funeral in bright orange pajamas.”
I can’t tell if that’s a real threat… But knowing Gabrielle, it probably is.
“I burned it,” Evelyn whispered, like being quiet would make it better.
Sparks burst out of Gabrielle in all directions. “You WHAT?”
“Rory!” Evelyn yelled.
