Chapter 41 Quinn
QUINN
Ahorridly cheerful knock sounded as the door swung wide. Sitting upright, I tucked the lock of Mav’s hair into my bodice. I could not chance them taking it from me.
“Milady,” Devronica, the head seamstress, trilled. “It’s time to dress.”
Several attendants swarmed me, lifting me by the elbows and steering me toward the large standing mirror. Two others waited, cradling the monstrosity of a dress in their arms. Layer by layer, I was fastened into the gown.
While two attendants worked the final buttons of the outermost corset, another descended with powders and pigments.
Foundation dulled the flush of my skin, rouge carved false rosiness upon my cheeks, and kohl deepened my eyes.
With the final addition of a shimmering dust across my cheekbones, I had been erased.
“Look at you,” Devronica breathed, clasping her hands. “Our radiant bride.”
Somewhere, beneath lacquer and lace, I tried to remember who I was before all of this. All my mind could conjure were memories of Mav. I missed the weight of his arms around me, his laugh at my ear. If it were not for the corset forcing me upright, I would have collapsed in tears.
Nothing would ever soothe the ache of his absence.