“There.” Erlina straightened and stepped back, eyeing me. “That should be it.”
I blinked, slowly coming back to the moment. “What is?”
“The gown.” The once-Chosen took my hand. “Here.”
She guided me to turn around on the stool so that I faced the standing mirror she had brought in with her. I saw myself.
My hair hadn’t been brushed to within an inch of its life but tamed by some serum Aios had rubbed between her palms after braiding the sides back. Pale curls and waves cascaded down my spine, glistening.
No veil covered my features, but I barely noticed the freckles. A shimmering gold powder highlighted the arch of my brow and cheekbones, and the mocha hue that Aios had lined my lids and lower lashes with somehow deepened the green of my irises. She’d stained my lips a color only a few shades darker than they normally were.
And the gown…
It wasn’t white or transparent but a warm, silver shade close to the rare color of Nyktos’s eyes when he was amused or relaxed. The sleeves were a delicate lace pattern that resembledthe scrollwork I often saw on Nyktos’s and his guards’ tunics. That same scrolling design traveled over the rest of the gown, where it fit like a second skin from my breasts to my hips. From there, layers of soft gossamer and chiffon had been painstakingly stitched together so the skirt fell in wispy layers to the floor. Tiny diamonds twinkled from my arms, breasts, the waist, and the skirt. The gown was starlight.
“What do you think?” Erlina asked as she slid the small loop that was connected to the underside of the sleeve onto my forefinger on both hands.
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.
“You’re beautiful.” Bele’s face appeared above my shoulder. “Really.”
I cleared my throat. “Thank you.” I turned to Erlina. “Thank you.”
Her golden-brown cheeks warmed. “It was a pleasure and an honor to make this gown.”
“I don’t know how you did all of this. It would’ve taken me years.” I laughed shakily. “Actually, I couldn’t even do this in a lifetime.”
“Same,” Bele murmured, and Erlina shrugged off the comments, but her smile spread.
With Bele’s help, I carefully stepped down from the stool. “Will you be at the coronation?”
Erlina nodded. “Luckily, coronations are much like the Rites. All the mortals and godlings in attendance will be masked.”
I was happy to hear that she would be there, but concern still blossomed as I stepped into heeled shoes. “And will that be safe?”
“Mortals and godlings will be far enough away from the rest that they won’t be able to tell who is among them,” Bele answered. “And most of the Chosen who were brought into the Shadowlands have been here long enough that if any of the gods or Primals fed from them while in Dalos, their blood would’ve weakened by now.”
“Thank the Fates,” Erlina murmured. She then clasped my hands. “I will see you there, Your Highness.”
“Don’t—” Catching Bele’s pointed glare, I sighed. “I will see you there.”
Erlina left then with her sewing bag, leaving the mirror to be retrieved later. Bele closed the door behind her as I went to where the shadowstone dagger and its sheath lay on the chest by the wardrobe.
I picked it up and gently hiked up the skirt.
“What are you…?” Bele chuckled as I strapped the sheath around my thigh. “Nice touch.”
“Never leave without it,” I remarked, securing the sheath and then lowering my foot. I watched the skirt sparkle its way back to the floor.
“Just remember that dagger won’t do shit to a Primal,” Bele offered. “You know, in case any of them decide to give tradition a giant Primal middle finger.”
“Yeah, not like I’m going to forget that after shoving a dagger through Veses’ eye, and her pretty much brushing it off.”
“Fates, I wish I’d been there to see that.”
“It was really gross.” I glanced over at her. “She still sleeps?”
Bele nodded. “Hopefully, for the next hundred years, but I doubt we’ll get that lucky.”