Chapter 21 Arezoo
AREZOO
The fitting room of the bridal dresses' studio was all white walls and soft lighting, designed to make brides look like they were glowing.
Arezoo was definitely glowing. Or sweating. Probably both.
"Hold still, sweetheart. I need to adjust the back."
Arezoo tried not to fidget as the designer tugged at the fabric gathered at her waist.
Amanda had insisted that Dominique Beaufort would make Arezoo's wedding dress and wouldn't take no for an answer.
The name and the accent sounded fake, but it didn't matter.
What mattered was that Dominique was just as good as Amanda had said he was.
The dress was so much more than anything Arezoo could have dreamt of, that she should just play along and pretend he really was French and had graduated from the world-renowned ENSCI-Les Ateliers as he claimed.
"I can't believe this is happening." Her mother pressed both hands to her cheeks, tears glistening in her eyes. "My beautiful baby is getting married."
"Maman, please don't cry. You'll make me cry, and then my makeup will run."
Her mother frowned. "You're not wearing makeup."
"I know, but we need to start practicing not crying for the wedding when I will be wearing makeup."
Donya snorted from her perch on the blue velvet settee. "You can't practice not crying. It makes no sense."
"I disagree," Arezoo shot back automatically, then winced when Dominique made a disapproving sound.
"No moving. I'm pinning."
"Sorry."
The dress was beautiful and original, and Arezoo felt so incredibly privileged and lucky to be given such royal treatment.
It was an A-line with a fitted bodice of delicate lace that traced patterns like frost on a window, giving way to layers of soft tulle that floated when she moved.
The sleeves were sheer and reached her wrists, modest enough to satisfy her mother but elegant enough to make her feel like she'd stepped out of a fairy tale.
A row of tiny pearl buttons ran down the back, and the train, which was not too long and not too short, pooled behind her like a whisper.
"The beading is exquisite," her mother managed between sniffles. "How much did you say we were paying for this?"
"Five hundred dollars."
Her mother's eyes narrowed. "That's impossible. This dress must cost ten times that."
"No worries, darlings," Dominique said. "Amanda promised that I will be getting lots of business after people see Arezoo in this dress. I'm doing this practically on the house."
"That's very kind of you." Arezoo examined her reflection in the three-way mirror. The woman staring back at her looked like a princess. "I promise to tell everyone this dress is your creation."
"Much obliged." He grinned. "Amanda also said she was going to put my name on her private social network group."
She'd probably meant the clan's virtual bulletin board.
The excuse of free promotion sounded good, but Arezoo suspected that either Amanda or Ruvon had covered the difference between the real cost of the dress and the five hundred dollars Dominique was charging her.
Still, some gifts were better accepted with grace, so she chose not to press the issue.
"It's so pretty," Laleh breathed from beside her mother. "You look like a princess."
"I look like me. Just... fancier."
"You look like a bride." Her mother's voice cracked on the word. "My daughter is a bride."
"Not yet. Still a bride-to-be for another two weeks."
"Twelve days," Donya corrected. "Not that anyone's counting."
"You are."
"Someone has to keep track." Donya pulled out her phone and started typing. "I've got a spreadsheet."
"Of course you do."
Her sister was super organized, like their mother, and she aspired to become an accountant. After a thorough investigation of possible careers, which amounted to bugging Kian's assistant, Donya had decided that the clan was short on accountants and that she would become one.
Dominique stepped back, surveying his work with a critical eye.
He was a slim, short guy with slicked-back, black hair that was probably colored and elegant hands that moved like they were conducting an orchestra.
"The hem needs to come up half an inch. And I'll take in the waist just a touch.
Either the measurements you sent me were incorrect, or you've lost weight over the past week. "
"Wedding jitters," Arezoo admitted. "My stomach is tied in knots, and I can't eat more than a bite here and there."
"You need to eat," Dominique and her mother said simultaneously.
"I will, I will."
"She won't," Donya muttered. "She's been surviving on coffee and anxiety for a week."
"That's not true. I had a granola bar before we came here today."
"That was yesterday," Laleh said. "You only had coffee today."
Her mother made a sound that fell somewhere between a sob and a laugh. "Girls. You always argue."
"We're not arguing." Arezoo caught Donya's eye in the mirror. "We're just talking."
Dominique cleared his throat. "Please stop moving. I can't mark the length correctly if you keep twisting like a spinning top."
"Sorry." Arezoo looked straight ahead and kept her arms by her sides.
When she heard her phone buzzing in her clutch on the settee, she glanced at it instinctively, though she couldn't reach it without disrupting Dominique's work.
"Donya, can you check that? It might be Ruvon."
Her sister grabbed the phone, her eyebrows rising. "It's a message from Drova."
"Can you read it to me?" Arezoo said before thinking it through.
Drova might have sent something totally inappropriate, like another recommendation for a steamy romance novel, or worse, included a picture of a cover with a bare-chested, hunky man.
It was too late to take it back, though, because Donya was already reading it.
"It says, and I quote, 'You better not be doing the fitting without me, you traitor.'"
"Oh no." Arezoo had completely forgotten. She'd promised to video call Drova during the fitting. "What time is it there?"
Donya did quick mental math. "Almost eleven at night. Not too late."
"Call her back and put it on video."
"Dominique will get mad at us."
"No, he won't." Arezoo looked at the designer hopefully. "You don't mind, do you? Drova is my best friend, and I promised to show her how I look in the dress."
Dominique emitted a long-suffering sigh. "Your sister can film as long as you keep still. Perhaps your friend is also interested in a custom wedding dress?"
Arezoo chuckled. "Not likely. I doubt she will ever wear one."
"Oh." Dominique's lips twisted in disgust. "One of those feminists who wants to get married in a pantsuit?"
"One of those who is not planning on ever getting married."
"Oh." This time, the 'oh' carried much more meaning even though Dominique didn't follow up with what he suspected.
Donya tapped the screen. "Hi, Drova. Give me a moment to point the camera at Arezoo." She rose to her feet and held up the phone so Arezoo could see the screen without having to move around.
As Drova's face appeared, Arezoo suddenly realized that her friend's enormous alien eyes could freak out Dominique, but he was crouched next to the train and not looking up.
"There you are," Drova said. "You'd forgotten about me."
"Sorry. I just got distracted by the dress." Arezoo gestured at herself.
"Let me see."
Donya took a couple of steps back and angled the phone to capture the full length of the dress. There was a pause.
"Well?" Arezoo asked. "What do you think?"
"I think..." Drova's voice went uncharacteristically soft. "I think you look beautiful. Like an actress in a movie."
"Which one?"
"The one with the singing and the dancing and the rain."
"That doesn't narrow it down."
"The one where the woman wears the white dress, and everyone cries."
"That doesn't narrow it down either."
Drova made an impatient sound. "The point is, you look incredible. Ruvon is going to faint."
"I hope he doesn't." Arezoo couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. "So, you approve?"
"Yes, a hundred percent. I'm so glad Amanda convinced you to go the designer route. You could never have found a dress this stunning in a store."
"I agree." Arezoo turned just her upper body so the light could catch the beading on her bodice. "Can you see the detail on the lace? Dominique did all of this by hand."
"Who's Dominique?"
"The designer," Donya said. "Say hello, Dominique."
Arezoo had a moment of panic as Dominique lifted his head, but Drova was one step ahead of them and slapped some sort of filter over her image that made her look human.
Dominique leaned into the frame with a hand wave. "Pleasure."
"Excellent work," Drova said, which was about as effusive as she got with strangers. "If I ever decide to get married, which is not likely, I'll commission a dress from you."
"Much appreciated." Dominique was already back down and not looking at the screen.
"Send me pictures," Drova said. "Multiple angles."
"I will when the dress is ready."
"I want pictures now," Drova insisted. "I don't care if it's a bit too long or too loose."
"I'm on it." Donya grinned. "For my spreadsheet."
Arezoo caught her mother watching the exchange with a bemused expression.
Her friendship with Drova seemed strange to her, but she no longer gave Arezoo a hard time over it.
After all, they were living in an integrated village where immortals, humans, and Kra-ell coexisted not only in peace but also with a mutual defense agreement.
"You're coming to the wedding, right?" Arezoo asked even though Drova had already said she would.
It wasn't easy to get from Safe Harbor back to California, and it might not be up to Drova. The island didn't have commercial flights, so the only way out was catching a ride with one of the supply planes.
"Of course. I wouldn't miss it."
"How are you getting here?" Arezoo asked.
"I'll sneak onto one of the supply transport planes."
Arezoo's mother gasped. "Don't you dare, young lady."
Drova blinked at the screen. "Did your mother just call me 'young lady'?"
"She calls everyone that when she's angry or worried."
"I'm not angry, and I'm not worried," Soraya said. "Sneaking onto planes is dangerous and foolish. You'll ask properly for transport, like a civilized person."
"I'm not sure I qualify as civilized," Drova said. "Or a lady, for that matter."
"Speaking of which." Laleh leaned into the frame. "Are you going to wear your bridesmaid dress?"
Drova paled, which looked comical on her Kra-ell face. "Do I have to?"
"Yes, you do," Donya said.
"Can it be black?"
Arezoo shook her head. "Sorry. It's a wedding, not a funeral. The bridesmaids' dresses are in several pastel colors."
Drova made a gagging sound. "I'm sorry, Arezoo, but I won't be coming to your wedding. I just found out that there will be no flights leaving the island for the next two weeks."
"Oh, stop it. Yours is red. You'll look good in it."
Drova released a relieved breath. "You said pastels."
"It's a soft red."
"Oh." Drova sounded disappointed.
"I'm sorry to interrupt," Dominique said. "But you really need to stand still, or I will never be done. Say goodbye to your friend, Arezoo."
"Drova, I have to go." Arezoo straightened. "I'll send you pictures."
"You'd better. And tell Ruvon that if he doesn't treat you right, I know at least fourteen ways to make him regret it."
"I'll pass that along."
With her compulsion ability, Drova could think of countless ways of making Ruvon miserable, and Arezoo had no doubt that she would if he ever did anything to upset her.
"I mean it. Fourteen at the least."
"I know. Goodbye, Drova."
"Goodbye, bride." The word sounded strange in Drova's accent, like she was trying out a foreign language. "I'll see you in twelve days."
When the call ended, Donya snapped a few pictures and then retreated to the settee to wait for Dominique to be done.
"I'm glad you have Drova as a friend," her mother said. "Even if she threatens your fiancé with bodily harm."
"To be fair, she threatens everyone with bodily harm. It's how she shows affection. It's her people's way."
"Which people is that?" Dominque asked.
"Burmese," Arezoo said, the first thing that popped into her head.
Dominique looked up. "I thought they were peaceful people."
"Not all of them." Arezoo hoped he would drop the subject because she knew nothing about Burma or the Burmese.
He finished his pinning and stepped back with a satisfied nod. "There. We'll have the alterations done by Wednesday. That gives us plenty of buffer time before the ceremony, provided you don't lose or gain any weight. Can you make an effort to stay the same?"
"I'll try," she promised. "And thank you. The dress is pure perfection."
"Not yet, but it will be," he corrected.
Arezoo turned one more time in front of the mirror, watching the tulle swirl around her ankles. In twelve days, she would walk down the aisle in this dress toward Ruvon. It felt surreal, like something that happened to other people in stories.
Laleh pulled out her phone and began circling her like a photographer at a fashion shoot, and Donya joined in with her own phone, narrating quietly into what was probably some kind of video log for her spreadsheet.
Her mother watched it all with an expression that was part pride and part bittersweet awareness that things were changing, and that her daughter was a grown woman and no longer her little girl.