A Heart Like Glass [Book 1]

Chapter 28

"Will you walk with me?" Isolde asked innocently.

We'd just finished dessert, which had been a lovely, triple-layered chocolate cake when she made the request. The cake had been decadent, and I planned to snag another piece in secret. But Isolde dragged me away before I could sneak away to the kitchen.

"Father is having an impromptu meeting with some of his business partners, which has left me alone to greet guests. While I understand his absence, I'm a bit nervous to make conversation with those I do not know," she admitted and began fidgeting with the skirt of her dress.

This happened in the book too. Andreas would be so busy entertaining his business partners in the meeting room that he would miss the rest of the party. From what I remember, they had met to discuss an issue, and the skirmishes in the villages had something to do with it.

Keelan and Olivier had been asked to join too, which only left me to take care of Isolde.

"Of course, I will," I assured her. "It's your birthday. So, your wish is my command."

"Thank you, Ada," she said with a sigh of relief. "I'm thankful to have an amazing sister like you." She grabbed my hands and gave them a light squeeze.

With that, Isolde let go of my hands, and we began walking across the ballroom floor, where the dancing would soon begin. Isolde, having longer legs than me, quickly made her way around. Meanwhile, I accidentally bumped into someone. I thought it must be a man since I was nearly knocked to the ground.

"Ah, I'm so sorry," I said and looked up to find... no one. Whipping around, I tried to find the person I had run into, but there wasn't anyone close to me.

"Weird," I mumbled and turned back around to find the scene that I'd hoped to avoid. It had been another reason why it was so easy for me to oblige to Isolde's request to walk with her. Because on the other side of the room, the pink-haired girl was talking to Isolde – and her smirk told me that they were not having a pleasant conversation.

I quickly made my way over to them, hoping that I could spare my sister from whatever snake eyes were putting her through. My ears picked up the girl's voice as I grew closer.

"Of course, my dress is from La Belle's," the girl said with crossed arms. Her voice was whiney as she said, "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, um, I had tried the same one on," Isolde said innocently. "It's very pretty, but it's much more tailored to you." By the look on her face, I could tell that she was growing uncomfortable.

Whatever is going on, I need to diffuse it and fast.

The pink-haired girl huffed. "Obviously. Everything looks good on me because I make it look good." A smile, a mean one, danced on her lips as she said, "I'm willing to bet your golden dress would suit me better too." Her hand began to reach out as if she would snatch the dress right off of Isolde.

"Oh, no," I said, stepping in. "Vincent Menoria designed this dress specially for my sister. No one else could wear it better. His name guarantees it," I boasted, eyeing the girl's hand that had retreated away from the golden tulle.

My words were absolute truth too. Vincent Menoria refuses to make a dress without knowing a person's hair color, eye color, age, and skin tone. Each piece he designs is meant for one person and no one else.

The girl eyed me up and down, and I noticed the barrage of ladies around her. Some seemed friendly and curious, while others sported the same narrowed eyes that she was shooting me now.