Page 15 of Bound By Crimson
She moved quickly, retrieving the crimson dress and mask. She also pulled out a small, ornate box from under the counter. Inside lay brushes, a few lip colors, and an old—but elegant—palette of shadows.
“You don’t usually wear makeup,” Velora said gently. “But I can help, if you want.”
Lyric hesitated, then nodded. “Please.”
She sat at the small table near the window as Velora carefully applied a deep, sultry crimson lip color to match the dress. Her eyes were lined with just enough black to make them striking but not harsh.
Velora smiled as she worked. “We’re not changing you. We’re just enhancing what’s already perfect.”
Once the makeup was done, Velora helped her into the gown and tied the mask in place.
Then she took Lyric’s hand and led her to the tall antique mirrors at the back of the shop.
Lyric stood before the mirror, fingers toying nervously with the black satin ribbons at her hips.
She barely recognized the woman reflected back at her.
The crimson gown hugged her curves with unapologetic confidence. The corset lifted her posture, shoulders back, chin raised. The crimson and black lace mask framed her eyes, making them seem deeper, bolder.
But it wasn’t just the dress.
For the first time, she didn’t see the version of herself who had spent so long surviving, shrinking, and staying quiet.
She saw a woman who could take up space. Who deserved to take up space.
Velora stood at her side, eyes shining. “My God, Lyric. You’ve been hiding this goddess under cardigans and scarves for far too long.”
Lyric’s breath caught.
She touched the mask, then the satin dress, and for a moment, tears stung her eyes.
This isn’t for them,she reminded herself.Not for Rowan. Not for Eric. Not to prove anything to anyone.
This is for me.
She lifted her chin. “I’m ready.”
At 10:45 p.m., Velora grabbed her keys.
“Come on. I’m driving you.”
The drive out to Gravemoor Castle was quiet. The roads curved through dark hills and empty fields.
As they approached the old gates, the castle loomed out of the night—grey stone, gargoyles, the silhouette of ivy-covered turrets against the moon.
Velora slowed to a stop.
Other cars were already parked along the drive- sleek, unfamiliar. Guests in glittering gowns and masks were stepping out beneath the warm glow of the castle lights. Lyric didn’t recognize a single one.
Velora beamed. “Oh, you have to tell me everything. I want to know what it looks like inside, what the food is like, what the people are wearing—all of it.”
Lyric smiled, heart racing. “I will.”
Velora reached into a drawer beneath the dashboard. “Wait.”
She pulled out a length of deep crimson satin ribbon.
“Every masquerade queen needs one final touch.”
