Page 74 of The Reign of Blood

I give her a fake, harsh look before turning to the assistant. “She’s correct,” I admit, and the assistant’s smile grows wider.

“I can help with that,” she insists, turning toward the far right corner of the room, waving for me to follow after her. Her brown hair swishes from side to side with every step, her walk confident and strong for a fae.

I like her already.

I didn’t know there was such a thing as too many choices, but here I am, staring at them as I move through the store.

“Head on in there,” she states, waving for me to step into a large changing room with a huge mirror on the wall. Once I’m positioned where she wants me, I turn to her and she nods. “Now, what are your three favorite colors? Actually, two, I already know you’re going to say black.”

I gape at her, speechless, but there’s no denying that she’s right.

Clearing my throat, I consider her question. “Yellow and deep purple.”

“Nice choices; the yellow would work perfectly with your complexion, too. Do you have any preference on sleeve and skirt length?” she adds, tilting her head at me.

“Long skirt, the sleeves are open,” I reply instantly, and she darts back into the main area without another word. The long skirt will make it harder to move around, but it will allow me to conceal my weapons. I hope it’s not necessary, but with my luck so far, I’d rather be safe than sorry. At least my arms aren’t likely to be as restricted, so I can defend myself.

I shake my head. Slightly irritated that my thoughts go straight to protection mode, but it’s ingrained into me at this point.

“Okay, I have a long black option with long sleeves and no back, a deep purple choice with a long skirt and a strapless, sweetheart neckline, or a yellow spaghetti-strap bodice dress with a long layered skirt. Try them on, see what you think, and we’ll go from there, alright?”

My eyes widen with everything she rattles off, but I nod along all the same. She hangs them to my right before closing the curtain for me to try them on. Gulping, my gaze rakes over each of them as I try to decide where to begin.

Opting to simply go from left to right, I start with the black option, shaking off my cloak and piling my clothes on the chair by the mirror. It’s made of silk, the material unbelievably softagainst my skin, but I’m not overly fond of the neckline sitting across my shoulders, and the long sleeves feel a little restricting.

Hanging it back up, I turn my attention to the purple option. It’s noticeably heavier than the black one, and the skirt is puffy with tulle and so many layers. The neckline is cute, though, but it’s not going to serve its purpose for me.

I turn my attention to the yellow option, the layered tulle lighter and floaty. Stepping into the skirt, I pull it over my hips, where the bodice sits snugly against my torso. I secure the fastening the best I can at my back before adjusting the thin straps on my shoulders.

It’s perfect.

It’s not too heavy, there are no additional restrictions in comparison to the others, and the color really does suit my complexion.

“How’s it going in there?” the assistant asks, and I realize I’m smiling at myself in the mirror.

“The yellow one. I’m going for the yellow one,” I declare, my smile spreading wider across my cheeks.

“Perfect, leave the others in there and bring the yellow dress to the front when you’re ready,” she replies before I hear her talking with Flora.

Quickly changing, I drape my black cloak around my shoulders once I’m done. Dress in hand, I pull back the curtain and head toward where Flora is already waiting.

“Have you found one?” I ask, and she beams from ear to ear.

“I did. Have you?” She nods at the dress in my hand and I nod.

“What have you gone for?”

“It’s a surprise.”

I raise my eyebrows at her, but the joy on her face tells me all I need to know. “Surprises are good,” I breathe, and she bounces on the balls of her feet.

“Right?”

I’m not sure if she’s going to explode with excitement, but the store assistant appears, taking the dress from my grasp before anything insane happens.

She boxes the dress, layers of tissue paper and all, before sliding it into a bag and offering me the straps. Before I take it from her grasp, I offer her my money, but she shakes her head.

“Ah, this has already been paid for,” she admits, cheeks pink.

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