To Make It Count

chapter 4

“No, not that one. Too conservative. You have the body of a Greek goddess, you should show it. Try this. You won’t need a corset – your waistline is infuriatingly perfect as it is.”

Y/N turns, seeing the dress in Kat’s hands, and almost chokes. “The body of – Miss Graham, I’ve never worn anything like that! I haven’t even worn a dress since I was thirteen!”

Kat hums. “And what, pray tell, caused you to abandon dresses and embrace your androgynous aesthetic?”

“It's not that I didn't like dresses. But they're difficult to move in, and I'm always moving. Men's clothes are just easier, and more comfortable. I stopped wearing dresses after my parents’ funeral.”

Kat pauses, turning to Y/N with a pensive expression. After a moment, she speaks, more softly than before.

“I’m very sorry, Y/N. About your parents.”

“Oh, um. Thank you. It was a while ago. And my adoptive family is wonderful. They never cared about what I wore.” Y/N fidgets with the dress, a bit nervous about trying it on.

“Hmm. If you’d prefer, I do have a few suits. My son Carter is a bit smaller than you, but they should fit. Although, a suit would hide those wonderful back muscles of yours, and it would be a shame to miss the look on Miss Bukater's face when she sees them. Oh, don’t sputter, Y/N, it’s unbecoming. Look at you, you blush all the way down to your chest!”

Y/N chooses the dress.

It's a deep blue, trimmed in gold. To bring out your eyes, Kat said. It clings to her all the way to her thighs and brushes the floor, with open shoulders and a fairly racy neckline that Y/N covers with a silky red shawl. Y/N doesn’t feel quite comfortable in the heeled shoes, but Kat assures her that she can return to her rooms immediately after dinner and get back into her own clothes.

Kat insists that she wash her hair, and wear it down, for goodness sake. With hair like this, you’ll be a shining gem in a room of coal. She applies some smoky kohl to Y/N's eyes, as well as a bright red lipstick.

“You shine up like a new penny, dear. Now, let’s go rub it in Margaret's smug face.”

As much as she feels like an entirely different person after Kat’s makeover, she was looking forward to seeing Camila’s reaction. She hadn’t had much cause to look in a mirror in her life, and while she was aware that some people found her attractive, she didn’t exactly have a solid concept of what she looked like to others. When Kat pushed her in front of a full-length mirror before leading her out into the hallway, Y/N noticed a few of the things that Kat pointed out.

She did have pretty nice arms, didn’t she? Her waist was a good shape without a corset, and the silky dress accentuated the angles of her body. She generally kept her hair in a ponytail or bun for the sake of convenience, but she had to admit that it looked nice framing her face.

She certainly couldn’t hold a candle to Camila's beauty, but she felt good walking into that ballroom. Confident. She wobbles slightly in her shoes, but as she and Kat make their way down the stairs and a few men in bespoke suits give her a polite bow, she manages to curtsey and nod her head well enough that even Kat looks satisfied.

“Wait here. I’m sure Camila will be down in a moment.” With a pat to her arm, Kat is gone, and Y/N feels her confidence start to seep away. She starts fidgeting, wishing for something to do with her hands. Kat had insisted that she not wear her glasses, and while she could see well enough without them, she misses having something to fiddle with.