“Stop that, it’s perfect!”
“I’m not sure this is what my mother had in mind, is all.”
“You said you wanted to make an impression,” Imogen reminded her.
“Agoodimpression.”
Imogen shrugged daintily. “I fear we’re going round in circles here, Ade.”
Adeline turned to face the mirror and blew out a slow breath, turning to see the dress from every angle. Itdidlook good, once she’d got past the excessive cleavage. When you grew up with curves, you quickly learned that even the slightest slope to a neckline could havequitea dramatic effect, but with the soft fall of the long skirt it didn’t even look particularly lewd, just… gently alluring.
“Ok,” she conceded. “I suppose I trust your judgement over my own.”
Imogen grinned. “Damn right you do.”
“But I think I’ll need a glass of that honeywine.”
“Damn right you do,” Imogen called over her shoulder, already on her way down to fetch it.
They drank deeply, Imogen perched at the end of the bed, sipping contentedly and offering suggestions delivered as firm instruction while Adeline gathered her curls in a silver hairpiece and brushed smokey shades of powder over her eyes.
“Just one piece of jewellery,” Imogen said. She was leaning against the bedpost, her third glass of wine slowing her words and relaxing her posture. “If you’re wearing one of my dresses tonight, you’ll need to wear it properly. Do me proud.”
Adeline turned in her seat, eyes widening. She’d assumed her friend was fitted for a fine party, but it was hard to tell sometimes; Imogen always dressed like a fairytale Queen, forever wreathed in glittering ice and fine fabrics.
“Are you not coming?”
Imogen took a long, deep pull from her wine. “Goddess, no.”
It was barely an answer, but her tone was firm and pointed enough that Adeline didn’t voice her disappointment. She was quickly learning that Imogen would do as Imogen pleased - and honestly, as someone brought up on endless duties and obligations, she admired that.
“That’s a shame,” she said lightly.
Adeline brushed off her own curiosity, and turned instead to face the mirror, touching the bare skin above her cleavage.
“A necklace?”
Over the rim of her glass, Imogen smirked.
“And distract fromother things?”
They dissolved into giggles, little more than a pair of tipsy youths. Adeline was warmed with memories of Mid-Winter nights passed, when Imogen would coax Mareda to sneak off and drink stolen wine in the library while their mothers preened at court. Adeline would trail off after them, and Imogen always convinced Mareda to let her join in. She’d sneak her wine then, too, young though she was, and they’d giggle just like this. The three of them drunk and giddy and content.
Perhaps there was some good to be taken from her many years at the Silver Palace after all.
And as she kissed Imogen goodbye, slipped on her shoes and hurried down to meet her carriage driver, Adeline thought the best part of her night was probably already behind her.
Time to make an impression.
???
“Where have youbeen?”
Maredatsked, then hurried over to grab her hand. She dragged her to the broad doors of the ballroom, but Adeline stumbled at the sudden lurch forward. She righted herself, giggling a bit at her own clumsiness.
Mareda nodded to a Gard, who slipped into a side door to alert the Herald that they were ready. Once he was gone, her sister whirled on her.
“Are you drunk?”
