“Then you should’ve known I’d never wear a dress!”
“Please, Kett.” Nuala gave her the big-eyed look again. “At least try it on.”
Kett glared at her stepmother but she couldn’t work up any real malice. Being angry with Nuala was like kicking a puppy.
“All right,” she snapped, and snatched the dress. Being that Nuala, like half the inhabitants of Elvryn, had seen her naked on countless occasions when she changed shape, she didn’t bother to go into the bathroom or hide behind the curtained bed as she dropped her bathrobe. Nuala, who was way sneakier than anybody so nice had a right to be, had slunk in and ambushed Kett as she was coming out of the shower. Bael, thank the gods, was off irritating someone else.
The silk whispered over her skin, and Kett had to admit it did feel wonderful. Ridiculously impractical, but wonderful all the same.
Still. Ball gowns weren’t meant to be practical. They were meant to be pretty. And Kett just didn’t do pretty.
“I knew I had to make something for you from that silk the minute Madame Debusser showed me the bolt,” Nuala said as Kett fought her way through the miles of fabric.
“Is that old trout still alive?”
“Of course she is. People as terrifying as her don’t just fade away,” Nuala said. “It’s the exact color of your eyes, Kett. I had to have something for you or your father from it.”
“Then why didn’t you make something for him?”
“I did. He has a shirt of the same material,” Nuala said happily.
“Tell me he’s not wearing it tonight,” Kett groaned. “If we matched it’d be revolting.”
Nuala’s eyes lit up. “Then you will wear it?”
Kett winced. “Bollocks.”
“Oh Kett!” Nuala actually danced on the spot, beaming with delight. She rushed over to adjust the dress, which was giving Kett some trouble. She’d gotten the skirt settled around her hips but there didn’t seem to be much of the top half.
“Here,” Nuala said, taking the two pieces of silver silk and drawing them up Kett’s body, over her breasts, and fastening them behind her neck. The arrangement left her back totally bare, and a good deal of her front too. The two wide strips of silk were attached only to the skirt, not to each other, and when she moved they revealed not only a lot of Kett’s cleavage, but a strip of her stomach, right down to her bellybutton.
“Kett, you look wonderful!”
Kett regarded herself dubiously in the mirror. Apart from her exposed bellybutton, she had the feeling if she moved too much the silk would slip away at the front or the sides and show everyone her breasts.
“Doesn’t the skirt hang beautifully? I told Madame D. knife-pleats and the narrowest of waistbands. She wasn’t happy, it’s quite fiddly, but of course it wasn’t her doing the sewing, it was one of her minions…”
Knife-pleats, were they? The folds of the skirt floated like rays of moonlight, billowing around her ankles with every movement. The silk caressed Kett’s bare legs, which was a strange sensation. And not an unpleasant one.
“Now, shoes…” Nuala said, and Kett snapped to attention.
“I’ll sort them out,” she said, and Nuala, who was holding a pair of tiny, strappy things that looked like they belonged in a rather specialized torture chamber, looked crestfallen.
“But they match the dress perfectly-”
“And I’ll go A over T within about five seconds,” Kett said.
“Nonsense, I know you’re perfectly graceful-”
“And I can’t wear heels, not with my leg,” Kett said in a sudden flash of inspiration. She gave a slight limp for emphasis and Nuala’s face really fell.
“Oh…no…I suppose not. Oh it’s such a shame!”
“Yeah,” Kett said, turning away. “I’ll-”
“Oh my gosh!”
Kett winced, wondering what it was now. And how the hell her stepmother could have remained married to Tyrnan of Emreland for twenty years and still have uttered something as sweet and childish as “gosh” when she was excited.
“What?”
“Kett, your back!”
Kett flinched. Ah. Yes. That was the other thing about being a shapeshifter. Covering up surface imperfections was a cinch. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of all the scars she carried, but it did cut out a lot of questions when she concealed them.
“You’ve seen it before,” she said.
“Yes, but…” Nuala was shaking her head in disbelief. “I’d forgotten. Does…does it still hurt?”
Kett shrugged. “Nah. In fact, lumps of it are numb. Scar tissue.”
“Goodness,” Nuala murmured faintly.
“Goodness,” Kett said, “had bugger all to do with it.”
“It’s as well you can cover them up,” Nuala said, and there was a sticky sort of silence.
“Yeah. Funny story,” Kett said.
Nuala looked almost fearful. “What?”
Kett debated how much to tell her, then figured, what with the ball and the servants having the day off and the outside caterers and wasting this much time with this stupid dress anyway, Nuala really didn’t need another thing to worry about.
“I…uh. Um. Can’t change at the moment. It’s a…uh…shapeshifter thing. Because I was…feeling a bit ill recently. I’m fine now,” she reassured her stepmother. “Five by five.”
“Well…perhaps you ought to wear something else,” Nuala said, chewing her lip. “I’m sure Chalia…or maybe Chance…”
She looked so disappointed. Kett had kicked the puppy.
“No,” Kett said, looking over her shoulder at the way the dress highlighted the ugly, knotted lines crisscrossing her back. “You know what, no. These are my damn scars and I ain’t ashamed of them, and besides, look at me. It’s not like I’m gonna fit in with the rest of the crowd anyway.”
Nuala blinked. “You’ll wear it?”
“I’ll wear it. But not the shoes,” she added quickly.
Nuala looked at them, sad for a moment, and nodded. “Well, I did think they might be pushing it,” she said. “Would you like to borrow some makeup?”
Kett stared at her. Another shapeshifter advantage-or maybe it was a disadvantage now-was that she could alter her features without cosmetics. “Wouldn’t know what to do with it,” she said.
“Beyla and Eithne would absolutely love to-”
“No,” Kett said, a little more forcefully than she’d intended. “No. Thanks. I’m fine.”
Of course Nuala couldn’t possibly leave it at that, and eventually Kett gave in and allowed her stepmother to dab some goop at her face, do something fancy with her hair and try to persuade her to wear some jewelry.
“Didn’t we talk about pushing it?” she snapped eventually.
Nuala raised her hands in defeat. “All right,” she said, and for some reason she was smiling. She backed away. “I’ll see you downstairs. People are already arriving.”
Kett stared at her. “You haven’t even changed yet!”
“I can be remarkably quick.”
“And your maid-”
“Laid everything out for me before she went. Your father will help me.”
Kett’s mind boggled at the thought of her dissolute father helping to put a woman’s clothes on. “But the guests-”
“Your sisters are taking care of them. They have done so the last few years.” Nuala grinned. “Despite what your father thinks, they’re quite grown-up now.” She gave Kett one last look, glanced wistfully at the silver shoes and smiled. “You look lovely.”
“I’ve never looked lovely in my life,” Kett grumped.
“Well, you do now.” Nuala stood up on tiptoe and kissed Kett’s cheek. “I’ll see you downstairs.”
Kett stared after her, stunned. No one had ever kissed her cheek. Not her sisters, not her father, not any friends and certainly not any lovers.
Great gods in heaven, she put on a dress and people started treating her like a…like a lady or something.
She’d have to put the balance right.