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Elli stepped up on the pillow-pedestal obediently and held out her arms so the Tenebrian seamstress could get to work.

“What about Roke?” she asked the girl. “Will he get new outfits as well?”

“Certainly, my Lady. Though I’m afraid it will take an awful lot of fabric.” The seamstress eyed Roke speculatively. “He’s so very broad through the shoulders and chest.”

“That he is,” Elli admitted. She was rather glad the big warrior wasn’t built along the slender, Tenebrian lines. He looked like a proper Kindred, for all that he was half Havoc.

“Now then, I think we’re in luck,” the seamstress said. “It will take me some time to sew up your bathing costume, but I do have a Supper dress that I brought with me which should fit you, my Lady, with just a bit of hemming. See here?”

She dived into the pile of fabric, which she’d deposited on another one of the cushions, and brought out a white lace gown. Or rather, the gown had some lace on it, Elli amended to herself. Patches of delicate white lace held together by some gauzy, see-through fabric that glimmered faintly in the light.

“Oh, that’s a Supper dress?” she asked, frowning at the way the firelight from the fireplace at the end of the room was shining right through the see-through patches of the gown. “Um, what do I wear under it?”

“Under it?” The Tenebrian seamstress seemed confused.

“Yes—this gown is practically see-through.” Elli pointed to the parts of the dress without lace. “If I put it on without underclothes, everyone will be able to see my, er…lady bits.”

“But what are underclothes?” The seamstress shook her head. “Why would you have a set of clothing to wear under your regular clothes? I’m sorry, my Lady, but I truly don’t understand. Is that one of your foreigner customs?”

“It is,” Roke growled, striding over to examine the gown. “But apparently ‘underclothes’ isn’t something the Tenebrians bother with.”

“But I can’t wear this with nothing under it!” Elli protested. “I’ll be indecent!”

“You’ll look like every other lady at Supper, my Lady,” the Tenebrian seamstress promised her. “Everyone must be appropriately dressed in the presence of the Crown Prince.”

“But I—I just can’t.” Elli shook her head.

“Then I’m afraid you won’t be admitted to Supper,” the seamstress said. “Which would be a great scandal, I’m sure, since I’ve heard that it was the Crown Prince himself who invited you! If you insult his Majesty by not appearing…” She shook her head, her eyes going wide. “I don’t even like to think of the consequences.”

“There is also the little matter of your vow,” Roke pointed out, raising an eyebrow at Elli. “Weren’t you just saying that you would do whatever it takes to complete your quest?”

“I…” Elli bit her lip. “I suppose I did,” she admitted in a low voice.

But she had been talking about facing down Demon, the flaming zorel when she’d made her vow. She’d never expected that exposing herself would be one of the things she had to do to in order to get a piece of the Healing Lattice! It would be easier, she thought, to walk into the training ring with the infamous groom-killer, Demon than to go to a public dinner with her body on display.

“Look, sweetheart,” Roke murmured, coming to stand in front of her. With Elli on the pillow pedestal, they were almost eye-to-eye. “I can tell you’re modest,” he murmured to Elli. “And I know you don’t come from a culture where this kind of thing is accepted or allowed. But I want you to know that I’ll be with you every step of the way. I won’t leave your side for a moment, all right?”

Elli bit her lip. She hated to admit—even to herself—that the thought of Roke seeing her half naked in the lace dress bothered her more than the idea of the entire Tenebrian Court seeing her. After all, they were strangers and aliens and she would hopefully never see them again after her quest was completed. But the idea of the big warrior seeing her in such a revealing dress made her feel hot and cold and shaky—in other words, exactly how she’d felt after he’d kissed her in the ThRoke Room.

Still, she had made a vow, she reminded herself. A vow witnessed by the Goddess herself. She must fulfill it.

“All right,” she said, nodding firmly. “I’ll wear it.”

“Very good, my Lady.” The seamstress sounded relieved—she probably would have gotten into trouble if Elli had refused her offerings. “Let’s try it on and get it hemmed up, shall we?” she asked brightly. “After all, Supper is coming up in under an hour—we must get moving.”

Eighteen

“Stop fidgeting—you look lovely,” Roke murmured, tucking Elli’s arm more firmly through his own as they made their way down the long hallway. He was still wearing the deep blue frock coat he’d worn to Court while Elli had on the revealing white lace dress.


Tags: Evangeline Anderson Fantasy