Page 57 of Powerless

“Ellie. Help. Please.”

I’m staring at my wardrobe, driving myself mad looking at all the colors and styles of gowns hanging inside. “Which one should I wear for the ball? I need to make a good impression—”

“Yes, you do, and you won’t with one of those dresses,” Ellie cuts me off, laughing softly.

I tip my head back and groan. “What’s wrong with one of these?” I gesture to the multiple dazzling dresses at my disposal.

“Those,” she points at the wardrobe, “are no ball gowns. Though, you’d certainly make an impression if you wore one of them. Just not a good one.”

“So, what now?” I can’t keep the irritation from bubbling out of me.

Clearly, Ellie noticed because she says softly, “We’ll need to have a dress made for you. Immediately. I know several excellent seamstresses who could fix you up a beautiful gown in no time, you’ll just need to pick out the style and shade of green.”

Apparently, it is common knowledge that the women tend to wear green gowns to these balls, seeing that emerald is Ilya’s kingdom color. It isn’t a set rule, but something everyone simplydoes. Typical. Tradition.

Tiresome.

Ellie carries on about the seamstresses she knows, how wonderful their work is.

And then it hits me. I know a seamstress,livedwith one.

I’m suddenly crushed by the weight of what I’ve done. No, what Ihaven’tdone.

Adena.

The promise I made to her rings in my head, a reminder of how I’dforgottenabout her. I vowed to visit her, and yet, only remembered to do so as soon as it was convenient for me.

I’m gripped by guilt, nearly choking from its tight grasp around my throat. I swallow, silently cursing myself for my selfishness.

But this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been selfish when it comes to Adena.

I was selfish the night she found me on the roof of a shop two years ago, hurt and hysterical and hoping for someone to justunderstand. The rain rolled down my face as I studied the stars, mingling with my tears and stinging the fresh cuts I’d received from an Imperial that morning. Adena pulled herself over the edge of the roof before breathlessly telling me how she was certain she’d find me up there, just as she’d been certain to never again be scaling a shop.

But her smile slipped when her eyes slid to me shaking in the streaming rain, hugging my knees. I was tired. Tired of trying to be something I wasn’t while no one knew what I was.

So I decided to study the sky that night, spotting similarities between us. I was lonely in a way that I imagine the stars to be, observed by everyone yet too far to truly beseen.

And for once, I wanted to be seen by someone.

It was selfish of me to tell Adena about my past, present, and everything in between. Just knowing about what I am puts her in danger, and yet, we’ve only grown closer despite that.

She believed me. She listened as the truth spilled from me in a sob, stayed with me even after knowing what I am.

And I’ve never been more relieved about a moment of weakness.

“Ellie,” I say slowly, deliberately. “What if I know of a seamstress?”

She thinks for a moment before answering with a shrug. “That would be fine. Did you meet someone here? In the palace?”

“No, she’s from Loot.” Ellie gives me a skeptical look, but I barrel on. “She’s incredible. I can guarantee she would make me the finest dress Ilya’s ever seen.”

“Well, I suppose I could talk to Lenny about escorting you there to get her.” She quickly adds, “As long as he is allowed too.”

My brows knit together. “Get her?”

“Oh yes. If you get clearance to go, she’ll come back with you and be hired here as your personal seamstress until the Trials are over. Or until...” she trails off.

The rest of her words are drowned out by the blood pounding in my ears, and my heart is racing so quickly I feel as though I’m in the middle of a fight.

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