Page 204 of Beast and Remedy
“Thank you,” Marian finally replies.
I offer her a tight smile, knowing we’ll need to talk about it later.
“Now all we need is for Vi to get dressed,” Jules says, steering the conversation away from the tension brewing between my sister and me.
Everyone laughs, and I roll my eyes. “I would if Christine lets me wear my hair down,” I grumble.
Christine plants her hands on her hips. “You can’t shield yourself from everyone, Vi. Plus, you’ll want it up if you’re dancing.”
“What about half up?” I ask.
She wiggles her eyebrows in contemplation before agreeing and taming my wavy tresses. Christine yanks my hair, and I hiss.
“Oh, come now. Beauty is pain.” She brushes off the accidental tug and continues to gather small strands and plait them.
Jules resumes conversing with Marian about something I can’t quite make out, and I muffle my annoyance under my breath, trying to focus on the positives. Like someone helping with my waves.
When Christine finishes, she inspects my hairstyle once more and claps in finality. “Now, for your gown!”
She spins, her giddiness infectious as her dress swirls like she’s already begun dancing for the night. But when she pulls out my gown, all our mouths fall.
I’m dumbfounded by the dress, unsure of what to even say. Let alone do. All that runs through my head is Beau’s face when he sees me in this. I gape, almost breathless.
“Christine, h-how did you—”
“You know I get the best gowns from Jules’s grandmother,” she says nonchalantly. “And she always sends me extra fabric to have each outfit tailored to perfection. Which makes it easy for when friends come and need gorgeous ballgowns on short notice.”
“I still have no idea how you got our measurements without us scheduling a visit to a tailor,” Marian comments as Jules helps Christine place my gown on the bed.
“I have my methods,” Christine teases with a smirk.
I stand from the vanity, Christine, Jules, and Marian’s conversation quiet and muffled as I run my hands over the stunning masterpiece.
The dress doesn’t need any modifications. The deep red fabric matches my hair and is draped in handcrafted roses. The flowers are dimensional and lined elaborately throughout the ballgown, from the sweetheart neckline to the off-the-shoulder sleeves.
How many hours must it have taken for Jules’s grandmother to create this?
“I thought it would fit you best, given my brother’s nickname for you,” Christine whispers, causing me to jump.
I meet her gaze, still in shock. “Chr-Christine, I-I-I can’t wear this.”
Looking at the dress, the cracks in my heart grow the more I stare and think of Beau. I press my lips together, wanting to hide the swell of pain crashing against my chest.
Christine’s hand lands atop mine, the touch tender and gentle as unworthiness forms a lump in my throat.
“I want you to wear this,” she says plainly. “For me, for Beau, but most importantly for yourself.”
I meet her lovingly blue irises, her kindness and compassion reminding me so much of her brother. “Myself?”
“Everyone sees how wonderful, smart, and beautiful you are, Vi.” Christine leans in and squeezes my hand twice before adding, “Everyone except you.”
My lip quivers, and the walls cave in. I want to turn from her affection, lock myself up in a tree and be one with the esprits. Maybe then I won’t have to face the disappointment they’ll all inevitably harbor for me.
“Look, I’m sorry you haven’t been in the best of moods, but you’ve been the keystone in reuniting us and finding a cure. And I want you to see how much we value you. I wish to seeyou happy and celebrate our success with us today. We all do.” Christine gestures to Jules and Marian.
My friend smiles encouragingly, and Marian’s eyes are glossy.
“Stupid tears,” she says dismissively, blotting her face.
