The White Sheep's Disguise ✓

Chapter 54

Standing in front of Gustus's tall mirror, I frown at the gown hugging against my body. I pull at the lace tulle skirt, the knife-pleated design falling to the floor and traveling no further. The skirt is not the problem. It's everything else, the boned bodice decorated in small red and purple roses, the sweetheart neckline that doesn't reach farther than my breasts but hides them behind a layer of soft pink fabric. The sleeves attached hang off my shoulders, connecting to the top of my gown and fluttering down in sheer waves to my wrists, cupping them in a tight collar.

I don't much care for it.

Not to say I don't appreciate the prince's efforts to pick out something extravagant for a ceremony as esteemed as this, but the color doesn't quite match with my eyes. The soft pink reminds me more of evening clouds that pair well with deep blue skies fading to night, not the unsettling red of my pupils. I run my hand over the bodice and the flowers stitched on, tiny and delicate, falling like a waterfall down the middle of my chest and sprinkling onto the skirt. Maybe if we have enough time—

"You're frowning," Gustus notices. I glance at him through the mirror. He buttons his black doublet, the color he is forced to wear in honor of his mother's obsession with labeling herself as the Raven Queen. "Do you not care for the gown?"

I hold out my hand before I've said a word. "It's beautiful," I compliment. "But I don't believe the color goes with my features, is all."

He stands at my side, studying my appearance. He clasps the final button and fluffs the tight cuff towards the end of the bishop sleeve. Gustus's ocean blue eyes stick out like a sore thumb against the dark fabric, turning him into a less-princely version of himself. The Raven Queen wishes for intimidation, so her children must follow the same trail.

"I believe you look beautiful. But if you're looking for the color to match, then I suggest shifting back into your normal form. Unless you wish to cause a scene, of course." He smiles wickedly, and my eyes grow wide.

A blush creeps onto my cheeks. "Right." He didn't purchase the dress for my Luminary form, but I've grown accustomed to transforming my appearance when hiding away in his chambers. My magic soothes, resting easily beneath my skin, and I can think without the constant berating of stress or anxiety halting all my attempts at happiness.

I cast the veil of magic and watch my hair shift back to the shade I was born with. Like the smallest of adjustments, my eye color fades to a subtle green. The woman I stare back at is the one I grew up knowing, but she isn't me anymore. At least the gown matches.

Throughout this day, I have gone through the normal motions of life at the palace. More people flood the halls, all from distant lands and all of them unrecognizable, but I don't make conversation for they don't see me as anything other than a palace servant. I even gathered towels for a young woman that couldn't fetch anyone else. Even though I wasn't in uniform, I helped.

I didn't allow myself to feel the nagging nerves rising inside my body every time I opened the gates to allow them in. If there was something else I needed to do, I did it and used my focus to exceed at the current task. Trying on the gown is another, as is waiting out these final moments before the ceremony starts. Now that I'm wearing the gown, I can't do anything else to waste away the minutes turning to hours.

My anxiety has all the right to present itself.

"Brush my hair, will you?" Gustus asks. He sits at his vanity, applying a small layer of cosmetics to accent his high cheekbones. Over his shoulder, he holds the brush.

I grip onto the skirts of my dress and stride across the room, happy to look at someone else in the mirror other than my own reflection. The golden rim holding the mirror in place reflects Gustus's handsome face, his broad shoulders and glossed mouth. I take the long strands of pale blond hair off his shoulders and drape them down his back, brushing gently as to not tear.