then someone sure spent a lot of effort to make everyone forget about it.”
46
“Look at you, a vision in…” Aaros trailed off, circling Kallia after she stepped out of the dressing room. “Red.”
Kallia smirked. “It’s not too much?”
“Oh, it definitely is.” Canary waltzed around with a greasy paper bag of day-old caramel spiced popcorn. “Those top hats will be reduced to nothing but a pile of scandalized tears. Can’t wait to see it.”
“You can’t eat in here!” Ira marched back in with her pincushion. Canary bared her teeth, exposing the kernels stuck in between like bone and flesh. The seamstress grimaced. She’d seen what Canary could do with a fire-lit baton between her teeth. It was quite a sight, Ira intimidated by anybody that wasn’t her own reflection.
The seamstress stood beside Kallia, her cool demeanor returning as she scanned the fit of her dress in the mirror. “You will be turning heads, that’s for certain.”
“Was that a compliment?” Kallia teased. “Have I finally worn you down?”
“Keep fishing and I’ll take it back.” The seamstress inched away, hand pressed to her temple, her frown deepening.
“What’s the matter?”
When Aaros tried to support her, she swatted him away. “Nothing. I … I haven’t been sleeping well, is all.”
“Anything we can help with?”
“Stop trying to be heroes, children. It doesn’t suit you,” she grumbled. “It’s only the old memory box giving me a kick, so get a move on before you make it worse. I’ll ring you up.”
They watched the old woman hobble away to the front of the store before Aaros broke the silence. “So, what’ll Demarco be wearing?”
“How should I know?”
Aaros and Canary shared a look. They’d been sharing a lot of those anytime Demarco was mentioned. They, and the rest of Glorian. Kallia was sure she could trust them, but there was something about keeping this only for her, and him.
It made everything uncertain feel a little safer.
“Fine. Be coy.” Canary munched on another rebellious handful of popcorn. “And be smart. These sorts of things don’t typically survive beyond the stage.”
Kallia’s eyes narrowed slightly, but Aaros interjected first. “Oh great, you’ve just doomed it.”
“What? I’m being honest,” the flame-eater said, licking her fingers. “Everything is heightened during a show. Like a dream. You can’t really be sure if what you’re feeling is real. It’s what I tell all the Conquerors if they find someone on one of our stops. Warnings prevent the heartbreak, at least a little.”
“You must make for a bleak, blunt confidant, canary bird.”
“Careful, pretty boy.” She growled. “I carry matches with me everywhere.”
“I will not be overcharged from damages because of you two.” Kallia crossed her arms imperiously. “Out.”
“Yes, Mother.” Aaros’s head hung as he ambled out of the dressing area with Canary crunching and following behind.
Alone at last, she spared a quick glance at herself in the trifold mirrors, at how the silky red material wrapped around her body like a second skin, the long skirt cut artfully by two high slits that gave her legs the mobility she needed. The entire dress was made of sleek red, but underneath, black velvet. The open neckline draped off her shoulders, leaving room for jewelry to drip down her neck if she wanted.
Usually putting on a fabulous gown brightened her entire aura. Any bold costume she wore gifted her with a boldness in return. But Canary’s words rang in the back of her head, chipping away at her.
Truth was, it was hard to believe something like this could last. Everything was still so new. So good.
And Zarose, she wanted to keep it that way.
A blink later, the lights began to dim. Shivering, Kallia rubbed her worn eyes. They were playing tricks on her. She’d woken up tired more days than she could count. The price of practice and performance.
As much as she’d love to waste the day away with Demarco, she’d drop cold on her feet if she didn’t sneak in a few more hours of rest.
An amused smile tugged at her lips. She wondered what he’d think of the dress when she walked down that grand staircase of the ballroom. How he’d go still. How his jaw would drop.
Stunning.
Beautiful.
Otherworldly.
Kallia grinned at the praise wrapping around her, before finally turning away. A chill brushed over her as she descended off the carpeted pedestal, her back to her reflection—when the feel of cold fingers wrapped around her arm.
Only when she looked down, there was nothing.
No one near her, at all.
She forced herself to still. In the corner of her vision,