She stepped out and made Breen sigh.
The gown was white, like fresh snow, with a full skirt falling in soft layers and a slim, snug bodice that sparkled like diamonds in the sun.
“It’s stunning. You’re stunning.”
“Give it a twirl, girl.” Marco circled his finger.
The bodice’s sheer back dipped into a V, and the skirt simply floated, gossamer clouds.
“Your mom knows her wedding dresses. How do you feel in it?” Marco asked her.
“Well, you’d have to feel beautiful, wouldn’t you then, unless you’re a gobshite. So I do, feel beautiful, but like someone else.”
Breen glanced at Marco, and both nodded.
“It’s more the Capital than the valley,” Breen said. “It’s gorgeous, and you look gorgeous in it.”
“The dress glows, girl, but you don’t glow wearing it. It’s not saying it’s mine to you.”
“So I can say no, and not be an ungrateful eejit? Breen?”
“Absolutely. I have to say it’s one of the most beautiful wedding dresses I’ve ever seen, but… it’s not your wedding dress.”
“Thank the gods, as I swear I don’t think Harken would know me in it.”
“Let’s see number two.” Marco gestured her away. As she hurried back, Marco lifted his flute at Breen. She tapped hers against it.
“What if they’re all wrong?” Breen said quietly.
“Then we get real busy finding one that’s right.”
“There’s only a couple weeks now.”
“Sweetie pie, in a world full of faeries and witches and all that, I think we can come up with the right dress. Like you do with Halloween costumes.”
“But those were just illusions. This needs to be real.”
“So does yours. You’re standing up for her.”
“I can’t worry about mine until she has hers.”
“All right now,” Morena called out. “Here’s the next.”
Morena stepped out in soft, creamy velvet. The straight simple lines said regal.
Breen sighed again. “You look like a queen. A faerie queen. The way it’s belted, sparkling there and at the hem, and the neckline shows off your shoulders.”
“Got elegance all over it,” Marco agreed.
“But?”
“It’s not your dress,” they said together.
“It’s maddening.” Morena walked over, poured more champagne in her flute. “If we could just say I’ll have you and you’ll have me and have a good party. Well, I said truth, so we’ll try the last.”
She went off again.
“Okay, we need a plan if the last one doesn’t work.” Breen paced. “I can talk to Nan about it, getting the right dressmaker, and getting a better idea what Morena really wants, because we haven’t heard that out of her yet. We’ll have to move fast, Marco, but we can do it.”