Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 127026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 635(@200wpm)___ 508(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 635(@200wpm)___ 508(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
“Hello, Parris,” she said shyly. “Measurements for?”
“The wedding, of course,” he said as if she were ridiculous. “Come to the back with me.”
Kerrigan shot Darby a look that said, See, and they followed him past the row of ducks and into his private room.
“I thought lace,” Parris said, draping a few options on a mannequin for Darby. “My thought was to show off this beautiful black skin as much as possible. Sophisticated and simple but dazzling.”
“How did you know exactly what I would like? I never even asked you to commission a dress for me.”
He waved his hand. “It’s my magic. And anyway, I insist on doing all the Dragon Blessed dresses. This one”—he stuck his thumb out at Kerrigan—“rips up enough of them. It would be nice to design for someone who won’t ruin it an hour after wearing it.”
“I’ll cherish it for my entire life.”
“See,” Parris said, poking Kerrigan. “Someone can appreciate my work.”
“I appreciate your work. Why do you think I’m here?”
“You want to see your wedding dress, of course!”
“What? No.” Kerrigan shook her head vigorously. She did not want a wedding dress. “I need two name day dresses. One discreet and one as ostentatious as you can manage.”
He waved his hand. “Name day dresses. Bah! You have a wedding coming up.”
Kerrigan gulped. “You haven’t started it, have you?”
“Of course I have, darling. Shall I show you what I have so far?”
“Uh …”
But Parris had already dashed through his maze of dresses in search of Kerrigan’s wedding dress. The last thing she wanted was to see the dress that she would marry Ashby March in. But she couldn’t deter Parris’ enthusiasm.
“Breathe,” Darby reminded her.
She sucked in a deep breath just as he returned with a sleek bag with his logo in gold upon it.
“Here it is!” Parris said with a gleam in his eyes. “Now, this is just my vision. We can add any sort of ornamentation or …”
“I trust you,” Kerrigan said.
She held her breath as he drew aside the pocket that revealed the white dress beneath. He flung the dress across an awaiting mannequin, letting the flow of the skirts cascade across the floor. Parris arranged the bodice just so before stepping back and sweeping his hand forward.
“There. What do you think?”
Kerrigan had no words. It was the exact dress from her dream. It had the same V-cut bodice, the same empire skirts, the same adornment. Of course, it was just the beginning of the dress. He hadn’t done much but cut the pieces together to show her his vision, but Kerrigan had already seen the dress. She knew exactly what it would look like when he threaded his magic through the skirts so it glowed with faerie lights. She knew what it would look like in Belcourt Palace as she walked down an aisle toward March. She knew what it would look like when Fordham didn’t return, when he didn’t save her from this.
“You’re speechless,” Parris said in delight. He nudged Darby. “She’s speechless.”
“Kerrigan,” Darby said uncertainly.
But words were constricted in her throat. She couldn’t get them past her lips, and so Parris barreled forward.
“It’s not finished, of course. I was thinking sleeves here,” he said, gesturing to how the sleeve would drape off her shoulder. “And a bow for the waist to accentuate your figure. Probably boning. You’ll need to be held up.”
Kerrigan was going to be sick.
This entire time, she had been thinking that the dream was just that … a dream. It was nothing more than her own nightmares pushing into her subconscious. Even as the king and queen had offered her and March a venue at the Belcourt. Even after March had suggested sunflower petals. She’d been nervous about it, but not truly terrified. Not until she saw this dress.
Because it hadn’t occurred to her that this hadn’t just been a dream, but a prophecy.
She’d had her first vision at twelve. A second vision at sixteen. She’d had visions of her and Fordham working together all through the tournament last year. She’d had visions of the past when she connected with the barrier around the House of Shadows. And still, none of that had prepared her for this.
Typically, her visions were indistinct and murky. This had been vivid. As if she were really at Belcourt. As if she were really marrying March, surrounded by sunflower blooms, in front of all of her friends and family. She might be a harbinger, a prophet, a spiritcaster, but she had known when she was having visions.
This dress changed everything.
Because she couldn’t have known exactly what dress Parris would create for her. She couldn’t have possibly guessed that. She’d never discussed it with him. In fact, despite her betrothal, she had avoided it all costs.
Now, it was entirely possible that she hadn’t seen the dream for what it was because she couldn’t accept it as truth, but her visions had never been wrong. They hadn’t always made sense. They had always been true in some way.