Page 146 of The Throne Seeker
Roman paused. “You’re sure?”
“Yes, I want to help.” If she could make a difference by gathering information, she would at least try.
He nodded slowly, his expression growing determined. “Okay then, I’ll make the arrangements and… get ready—because the race is in three days.”
CHAPTER 60
Rose recruited Gretta to help pick a dress for the Snorri, explaining she needed something sure to be eye-catching. With a few prodding questions from Gretta, she admitted she was trying to attract a particular lord’s attention.
“Well, tell me. Who is it, lass? I grew up in Caleede, I know practically every high lord there is,” Gretta said, placing a hand on her hips. “Which one is it?”
“I believe it’s—Moretti?”
Gretta’s eyes widened. “FelixMoretti?” she clarified, exhaling a large puff of air. “You certainly reach for the stars, don’t you?”
Rose ignored the comment. “What’s he like?”
“Well, for starters, he’s the richest and most influential man in the capital,” Gretta stated, like it was well-known gossip. “He controls everything. Nothing goes on in the city he doesn’t know about. If that wasn’t enough to tempt you, he’s also an incredibly handsome lad, but he’s reckless to be sure. That man loves nothing more than a bag of money and status. He’s yet to marry, which makes him the most eligible bachelor in Cathan. Women come from far and wide to try to catch his eye. But for somereason or another, he’s denied them all. I’m afraid you’ll have to go bold with this one.”
Rose groaned internally. For some reason, she’d pictured Moretti as an older, plain lord with low expectations. Gaining the attention of an average man was one thing, but fighting for it against a sea of women was another beast entirely.
Gretta stepped over to the closet. “Let’s see…” she mumbled, rummaging through the clothes. “Ah! Here. If you want to catch Moretti’s eye, you’ll want to wear this.”
She looked up at the dress Gretta held.
If one could even call it that.
Rose’s eyes widened in fear. “That? That’s what you think I should wear?” Where in Vallor did someone even find a dress like that?
“Trust me, lass. This is what you need. Go on, try it on… Best you don’t show Roman until you get there,” Gretta added in a whisper, as if he could hear.
Rose slipped into the delicate dress made of shiny, scale-like fabric. The neckline dipped at the back to her shoulder blades, with shoulder pads that flared up and outward like small wings. Its sweetheart neckline beautifully lined her collarbone, and the scaled fabric hugged her body before gently reaching the floor. Two long slits reached her upper thighs, revealing her long, lean legs as she walked.
She faced the mirror, and although it exposed more skin than she preferred, she couldn’t help but admit she felt…new, like the dress gave her permission to be someone different. Someone more confident. Someone she could very well like.
“You see?” Gretta grasped her shoulders and ushered her into the sunlight.
Rose sucked in a breath as the rays hit the scales. The dress burst into a sea of glittering gold, lighting up the room.
“When you enter the light, you’ll shine like a goddess.”
She had to admit, it was eye-catching, just as she had asked. “Okay… I guess this is the dress.”
Gretta gave a satisfied smile. “You’ll be the talk of the city by the time the day is over,” she added with a wink. “Now to curl this lion’s mane of yours.” She grabbed a handful of Rose’s hair.
Even as efficient as she was, Gretta spent over an hour curling it all. She told her she didn’t have to, but Gretta insisted “it completed the look.” Gretta helped her put on a bit of makeup, using a golden highlighter and bronzer to accentuate her cheekbones. For her lips, she chose a light-pink shade, plumping them to look like fresh dew. Lastly, Gretta wrapped her up in a large cloak, doing it up all the way so no one would see the dress until she was at the race.
She slipped out the front doors, expecting Roman to be saddling the horses, but instead, a fancy black carriage was waiting for her.
Roman had dressed up for the occasion, too. He wore a black cloak over his leather tunic, with a V-neck and a popped collar, and trousers that matched. His hair had been left down in large, soft waves. Though he looked dashing, she didn’t miss how his eyes still seemed a tad more sunken than usual.
“I thought this might be a welcomed change for today,” he said, sounding just fine. He offered her a hand.
“I’d say,” she agreed with a grateful smile, taking his hand as he guided her down the steps.
“Are you sure you still want to do this? Just say the word, and I’ll find another way.”
“No. I want to help… plus I just spent about two hours getting ready, so we are definitely goingsomewhere,” she said in a sour voice, huffing.
