Strike at Midnight(53)

“It’s not charity,” she said, pushing me out of the way this time. She pulled out the first gown and shook it out. “It’s beautiful.”

When I looked across at her, she had placed the gown of deep red velvet with gold trimmings in front of her own dress. I wish I could tell her that it clashed with her hair, but it didn’t. The day gown did look beautiful as she swayed it back and forth, and I couldn’t bring myself to snatch it off her and throw it out of the window, seeing as it belonged to his late mother.

“What else is in here?” she asked, gently laying the red gown on the bed and pulling out one of teal velvet with a white panel at the front. It was crisscrossed with matching teal ribbon. “Oh, now this is just…well, wow.”

“You wear it then,” I said, having to admit that the colors of the ocean suited her a lot better than the red one did.

“Oh no,” she said, laying it down next to the other one. “These are for you.”

“I’m not wearing the gowns,” I said, getting ready to put them away so I could send them back. I wasn’t certain if it was a genuine gesture or a manipulation on his part, and that made the anger more acceptable than the hope. Melody put her hand up to stop me in my tracks while she still stared down at the box.

“Don’t move,” she whispered, and I went to go and see what all the fuss was about. “Don’t…” she said again, and I stopped.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as worry filled me.

“Close your eyes,” she whispered, but I rolled them instead.

“Melody…”

“Close your damn eyes,” she said, a hell of a lot louder this time.

“Jeez, fine,” I said, squeezing my eyes together. Goodness knew what it was that got her frilly drawers all in a twist, but I was willing to play along.

“Rella,” she said carefully. “Open your eyes.”

My eyes flickered open to see Melody standing in front of me, looking down at a gown she held against her with a look of awe on her face.

Holy crap to the moon and back.

The gown that she held against her had been made with a silk material that shimmered between white and the color of periwinkle when the candlelight hit it. The layers of material didn’t poof out like the gown I had ordered did, but fell like waves of water on a waterfall.

The off-the-shoulder sleeves had something that resembled clear chiffon entwined around them, and the edging of it sparkled as if it had been woven with sprinkles of silver glitter.

The prince hadn’t been joking when he’d said that he had modeled this on my glass slippers. It was beyond perfect, and I had never seen anything like it in my life.

Of course, I couldn’t wear it.

“You are so wearing this,” Melody said as she looked at me like I had won a million gold coins I was about to throw back. “Or I will kill you.”

“I’m not,” I said, but then she gave me the look that told me to shut my mouth. She didn’t send it my way very often, but when she did, I knew there was no going back. I was going to have to wear the damn dress. Or try begging. “Look, Melody. I don’t want to give him false hope. I need to tell him to back off and take this for all that it is. A case. An investigation. Nothing more.”

“You like him,” she said, gently draping the gown over her arm. “Why are you being so stubborn about this?”

“Stubborn?” I asked, wondering why the hell she wasn’t getting it like Marcel had. “He’s a prince. I’m a renegade hunter from Lower City. It will never work.”

“Why not?” she asked, and she gave me that look that a mother gives a child when they’re in deep shit.

“Because I’m not a virgin,” I said, “and because I have a foul mouth. Not to mention that I don’t follow the rules and propriety can just go fuck itself. You really think that’s princess material?”

“He doesn’t strike me as a man who would just marry someone because they’re princess material,” she said, and I felt like I was being stalked in the shadows when she took a step closer towards me. “And you know it. That’s why you’re so damn scared.”

“I’m not scared,” I said, but apparently it was the wrong thing to say. She was ready to go psycho bitch on my ass, and I hadn’t seen the warning signs until it was too late. She was also blocking my path to the door. Shit balls.

“Oh yes you are,” she said, her green eyes aflame. “You’re going to be an obnoxious bitch about all of this and push him away. But I won’t let you, shall I tell you why?”

I should never have taught her all of those swear words. Don’t answer. Don’t answer. Don’t answer.

“Why?” I asked before I could stop myself.

“Because you like him, and he likes you. And if I thought for one moment that he was a bastard who couldn’t see how good you are, I wouldn’t push you in that direction. You deserve the best, you selfish woman.”

Talk about mixed signals.

“How am I being selfish if I’m pushing him away?”

“Because you’re not doing it for him, and this high almighty ‘he’s too good for me’ crap. You’re doing it because you’re scared. Because there is something real with this guy, and you can’t handle it.” She stepped forward and jabbed a finger at my face. “You are going to go to the castle, you are going to wear this gown, and if you like the guy, you’re going to drop your guard and let him through the door. Are we clear?”