Page 101 of I Summon the Sea

Oh, gods…

The seamstress claps her hands, her smile widening. “Here we go. The king has sent you a gown from his private collection, and I believe the size is about right…”

I can barely hear her over the buzzing in my ears. That gown looks eerily familiar, but I have no idea why. It’s elegant and simple, with no ruffles or complicated bodices. It cinches under the bust, and from there, white ribbons flow. The bust is stitched with small clear gems and pearls.

I know all that before the gown is even laid out on the bed.

“It’s beautiful,” Daria exclaims, stepping back and clasping her hands at her chest, eyes bright.

Peri is just staring at it. “We should help Lady Rae into it…”

White and gray. The colors of the darakin that Jai has befriended. What are the odds?

“White and gray. It’s as if he belongs with you.”

Nothing weird about it, I tell myself as Daria and Peri help me undress and get into the glittering gown. Jai was right. They are my colors—my hair, my eyes—so in that sense, I can see why the king would choose it for me.

Why would the king choose a gown for me? Why did he speak to me? I still can’t fathom any of it.

Had Amphitrite known that he’d want to speak with me? Is that why the spell hasn’t dissolved, to protect my identity and real power? Does she know things I don’t? Does she know of the king’s plans to invade other worlds? Didn’t she think I had need of such information?

“Here, my lady, please stand in front of the mirror.” The seamstress herds me to the gilt, oval frame where my palereflection stares back at me. “Let’s see what needs to be altered…”

It takes forever for the seamstress to pin the fabric, muttering to herself as she adjusts the gown around my poor curves and jutting bones.

I hadn’t always been that skinny, I recall. I hadn’t always been this ugly.

Then she’s finally done and I’m allowed to escape the swaths of fabric and gems, while she sits at the desk with her basket and gets to stitching.

So much work for one ball. The free day makes better sense when you consider that the palace seamstresses are going from human to human to adjust gowns and suits for the big event taking place tomorrow.

By the gods, how important are shows for the fae? Shows of lights and shadows, shows of wealth and culture. They have to be perfect, with no flaws showing.

And so does my gown, apparently.

Peri sits with the seamstress, helping her by holding the gown, passing her threads and needles, and even stitching parts of the bodice.

Meanwhile, Daria sets about tidying up and cleaning my room—I bet only so that she can keep staring at the pretty gown the king sent. It glitters in the candlelight. I doubt he sent beautiful gowns to all the surviving human women.

Yet another thing to single me out tomorrow at the ball.

I resume pacing, since nobody seems to need me at this point, sinking into the turmoil of my mind. I mean, what does all this matter? I already know I won’t get another chance to stab the king, so what’s the use? I might as well throw myself off the tallest terrace and embrace death.

A screech outside the window has me spinning around, and I frown at the serpentine, winged form gliding by. A darakin?

Thedarakin, the white and gray one.

What is it doing?

Daria, who was draping a bath sheet over the side of the bronze tub, draws away from the window with a gasp. She presses her thumb to her forehead, a sign of protection, pulling off her maid’s bonnet. “Great gods above. The things we’ve seen during this festival…”

And you’ve seen nothing yet, I think.

For some reason, the thought calms me down. So what if the king wields shadows? So what if I don’t know everything that might help me kill him? I’m still here, and while I’m here, I’ll get another stab at this, pun intended. I just need to keep my eyes peeled, and always be ready.

I won’t throw away this opportunity. I’d be selfish to end myself now.

By the time the seamstress is done, between the gown fitting, the visit with the king, and all my pacing, most of the day has passed.

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