The lace formed a Sabrina neckline and dipped a little at the back, which was kind of backless. The kind of part was that the velvet came only to the small of my back and up my sides, but that extraordinary lace covered my skin, providing an elegant, peekaboo back done up the middle with lace covered buttons.
The dress was sleeveless so I wore long, bronze satin gloves that fit tight up to my mid-upper arm. My feet were covered in flat green velvet slippers with a thick suede sole and topaz beading at the pointed toe.
My makeup was heavy, smoky and fabulous (Loretta’s doing).
And the neckline of the dress was so perfect I needed no jewelry at my throat. But Loretta gave me emerald and topaz chandelier earrings to put in my ears as Meeta linked chain after chain of emerald and topaz bracelets around my right wrist.
And last, my hair was swept loosely back to a smooth but large, lovely chignon Meeta fastened at the nape of my neck then, on each side close to the bun, she slid in extravagant combs that had ends which were large sprays of emeralds and topaz that glittered against my hair.
I had not, for some reason, perused the entirety of the jewelry collection Apollo had given me. But once my girls had outfitted me, I decided to rectify this error at my earliest convenience.
That said, it gave me a niggle of unease, for it was very clear not only the dress and shoes, but especially the jewelry, were costly and it was yet another thing that Apollo gave me that made me feel strange. Like our relationship was lopsided—he the giver, me the taker.
But I didn’t have time to think on that too much either, what with my transformation from just me to Glamor Girl Me.
And Apollo liked Glamor Girl Me.
And as ever, when Apollo liked something, I liked that.
I pressed closer, put my cheek to his shoulder and admitted, “Every time I look at you, I think your beauty is unsurpassed.”
He clearly thought this was amusing and I knew this when his arm gave me a squeeze and he chuckled.
“I’m being serious,” I told him, tipping my head back to look at his jaw. He looked down at me, still smiling, and I went on. “The best, though, is when you’re with your kids. I don’t know exactly what it is, but there’s something seriously gorgeous about a hot guy being a loving dad.”
He stopped smiling at my words, his arm tightened further so he could pull me up as his head came down and he did this so he could kiss me hard.
And also wet.
Totally ruining my lip gloss, I was sure (yes, they had lip gloss here, and all kinds of makeup; the containers and applicators were a bit rough, but it worked).
I didn’t care even a little bit. Lip gloss could be fixed. It would be a crime if that kiss had been missed.
When he lifted his head, I blurted, “I’ve no clue how to dance.”
That got me his smile back and he relaxed his arm so I could again relax into his side as he looked ahead. “Matters not. I detest dancing and don’t do it. So if others invite you to the floor, I’ll be there to ward them off.”
Thank God.
One thing on my list of things to fret about that night that I could tick off.
“Maddie, please remember what I told you this morning.”
I stifled a sigh.
Before we left bed to have breakfast with the kids (and after, for me to hang with them outside while they did their thing and Apollo went off to do Apollo things), he’d been very clear about how tonight was going to go. As in very clear, giving bossy orders and pressing me to promise (out loud) to heed them.
“I remember,” I told him.
“The men are already there, except Laures, who follows this sleigh. You will not see any of them all night. But they’ll always be close.”
I put my cheek back to his shoulder and nodded, knowing, for whatever reason, he had to reiterate himself so I was going to let him do it.
“I am not out of your sight the entire evening,” he continued.
I made a mental note not to drink too much, thus necessitating the chamber pot, and snaked my arm across his belly in order to give him a squeeze to indicate I heard and understood.
“And this means you are never far so, if needs be, I’ll be at your side within seconds.”
“It’s going to be okay, honey,” I assured him quietly.
He said nothing.
I again tipped my head to look at his jaw. “You have a bad feeling,” I guessed.
“We’re in Brunskar,” he told the horses, not giving me his eyes.
I cuddled into him again, aiming my eyes at the castle and this time I said nothing because, seriously, we were in Brunskar and I was getting that that was enough said.
I watched the castle get closer and closer and spent the time I did doing my best to hold back the foreboding that got greater when suddenly, Apollo spoke.
“Do you love wearing that gown as much as I love seeing you in it?”
There it was again.
And I liked it again.
He didn’t like my gown. He didn’t even seriously like my gown.
He loved it.
And I loved that.
So much, it made me feel squishy inside, but still, I answered hesitantly, “Uh…I think so.”
“I hope so, my poppy. I hope you love wearing it very much. Enough to make wearing it worth whatever comes this night.”
Oh boy.
“Just to say, you’re freaking me out,” I shared.
“Good,” he replied immediately. “This means you’ll remain aware and cautious.”
“Now you’re really freaking me out,” I told him.
“Excellent,” he stated. “This means you’ll remain really aware and cautious.”
I decided to shut up and continue my freak out in silence.
And I did this while I watched the castle get closer.
* * * * *
Within half an hour of being at the gale, I learned a number of things.
One was that Houses had colors. This was why Karsvall was decorated in a lot of greens, browns and golds, because those were Apollo’s House’s colors. And this was why anyone who was at the ball who belonged to a House was wearing matching colors to their mate, like I was with Apollo. And I learned this because Apollo whispered it to me when I asked him what the deal was with that.
I also learned that the inside of the castle of Brunskar was way creepier than the outside. In fact, it was so creepy, it was a miracle of creepiness.
This was because the colors of the House of Drakkar were blood red and black and they decorated liberally in both. It looked like the home of Dracula’s way more evil brother. The one they couldn’t write books about because he’d scare the beejeezus out of even the most hardcore horror fan.