Page 35 of The Heir's Bargain

"Oh, shut it and help me."

"If you say so, Ferrios." Fynn took a small step forward.

The heat from his body pressed against my back. I tried to remain still, thinking about anything else as notes of sea salt and wine surrounded me. The ribbons flew in the air as Fynn laced the corset as if he had plenty of practice tying women into corsets.

"Personally, I prefer untying them," Fynn said, his breath kissing the back of my neck and?—

My eyes widened, and I quickly reinforced my mental shields before he dug deeper into my thoughts.

Fynn chuckled. "Is it tight enough?"

I cleared my throat and shifted in the dress, the silk fabric suddenly uncomfortable. Peering down, I rolled my eyes and adjusted the top of the corset. As I held it in place, I said, "Tighter."

He pulled the strings, and the corset tightened around my torso. I turned back around, skirting around Fynn to look in the mirror.

My eyes widened at the sight. I cocked my head to the side and turned, the purple fabric swishing across the floor.

While the others were nice, this one was?—

"It's as if this one was made for you, Miss Ferrios," the assistant said, returning and snatching my attention from the dress.

I wished she was lying, but a smile bloomed when I viewed myself in the mirror again.

Chipper Lorallye was right. This dress was perfect. Stained a beautiful, rich purple, the silk fabric flowed down my body as if it were air, floating around me as I twisted side-to-side. When I took a couple of steps forward to see if it would tangle around my ankles, instead of ensnaring me, the fabric spread out and became slightly transparent. My legs peeked beneath it, turning the purple a brilliant, warm shade. The bodice dipped low between my breasts while somehow still providing ample support.

In this dress, I didn't see the little girl who always had mud smeared across her shirts and grass stains on her knees.

I spun in a circle. When I stopped, I faced Fynn and asked, "Does it get the Crown Prince's stamp of approval?"

Fynn took a long swig of his wine. "It's. . ." He paused, and my smile wavered. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and shrugged. "Nice," he said at last.

My hands fell to my hips, my nails digging into the fabric. "Nice?"

Fynn nodded and then grabbed a cookie from the tray Lorallye had sat down.

Pursing my lips, I nodded and spun toward the mirror, running my hand along the soft fabric.

"Oh, don't listen to him, miss." Lorallye gasped. She spun toward Fynn and fell into an apologetic curtsy. "I say that with the utmost respect, Your Highness."

Fynn shrugged dismissively, brushing the crumbs from his trousers.

Lorallye turned to me again, her voice slightly quieter. "Miss Ferrios, this is one of Madam Everly's favorites."

For good reasons. The dress was splendid—more than splendid, truthfully. It was extraordinary beyond belief.

But maybe Fynn was right.

On me, it was just nice. It didn't matter what I wore. I wasn't some lady who wore frivolous dresses and gossiped at afternoon tea parties.

"Let's try the black one," I said after a moment.

"Are you sure?" Lorallye asked, her hands curling beneath her chin, sadness dripping from her bright eyes. "That one is so simple compared to this."

I offered her a soft smile. "Simple sounds perfect, Lorallye."

Her brows twisted together, but when she realized I wasn't going to back down, she nodded with a small sigh. "Very well."

Fynn grabbed his suit jacket from where it was draped over the side of the couch. "I'll be waiting in the carriage."

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