Julian lifted a brow. “You think none of this matters?”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant—”
He smiled and pressed a finger to my lips, cutting me off again. “I know what you meant,” he said. “But here’s the thing. If you want to make a difference in this world, like Calista wanted, the way to do it is to attract people with power onto your side, because that’s where the money, influence, and connections reside. And all the people who currently have those things happen to be in this little corner of the world. So… it might be a bunch of pretentious, performative bullshit, but you still need to be able to navigate and thrive in it.” He paused. “And you will. Because you're smart, and you have something I think most of those people lack.”
“What's that?”
“Authenticity.” His thumb traced small circles on my hip. “Everyone in this world is performing. Playing their social roles, wearing masks. But you know how to find the truth beneath the performance. That's your advantage.”
I took a slow breath, letting his words sink in. “Okay.”
He cocked his head. “Okay?”
“Okay, I'll stop spiraling.” I managed a weak smile. “For now, at least.”
“That's my girl.” He stood, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Now finish getting ready. And remember, you already proved you belong in this world. Tonight is just making it official.”
Twenty minutes later, my makeup was done, and I was standing in the closet, staring at the rows of evening gowns that had been provided for exactly this purpose.
The instructors had been clear: we couldn't ask for advice on what to wear. This was part of the test. We had to demonstrate that we understood the nuances of formal dress codes, and that we could choose appropriately.
I ran my fingers along the fabrics, considering and discarding options. Too revealing. Too casual. Too youthful. Too matronly.
My hand finally settled on a gown in deep emerald silk. It was floor-length, with a subtle train, and the neckline was elegant without being provocative; a soft cowl that draped gracefully. It also had long sleeves, which felt appropriate for the season and the conservative crowd.
Sophisticated. Timeless. Respectful of the occasion while still being beautiful. I pulled it from the rack and held it up, studying it in the full-length mirror.
“That’s your pick?” Julian asked from the doorway.
“Yes. What do you think?”
“It's perfect.” He crossed to me, taking the hanger and helping me step into the gown. His fingers were deft on the hidden zipper, and I felt the silk settle against my skin like water.
I turned back to the mirror.
The woman looking back at me was elegant and poised. Exactly the kind of person who belonged at a high-society event.
Julian moved to the closet's shoe section and returned with a pair of classic black pumps with a manageable heel. High enough to be elegant, low enough that I could walk and stand for hours without wobbling.
“You've clearly done this before,” I said, smiling as I slipped them on.
He returned my smile with a teasing one of his own. “My mother dragged me to a ton of these events when I was a kid. I learned what works.”
I returned to the vanity and finished pinning my hair into a chignon. When I was done, I stood and smoothed down the gown one final time.
“Okay,” I said, turning to Julian. “How do I look?”
He didn't answer immediately. Just looked at me with an expression I couldn't quite read. Something between pride andpossessiveness, with something a little softer woven around the edges.
“You look like you were born to this,” he finally said. “But there's one more thing.”
He crossed to the dresser and opened a small velvet box I hadn't noticed before. Then he turned, and I saw the necklace he was holding.
It was a stunning emerald pendant surrounded by diamonds, hanging from a delicate platinum chain. The emerald was deep and rich, perfectly matching my gown, and the craftsmanship was exquisite.
“This belonged to my maternal grandmother,” Julian said, moving behind me. “Helen McClarnon. She wore it to every important event of her life. State dinners, embassy galas, even her own wedding.” His fingers were gentle as he fastened it around my neck. “And now, it’s for you to wear.”
I turned in his arms. “Thank you,” I said softly. "For everything. For believing in me even when I don't believe in myself.”
