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“What are you doing?” I ask when he brings his phone to his ear once more.

“Trying to call Cassian again.”

26

“What do you think?”Emera asks me, stepping away and letting me study my reflection in the full-length mirror.

When I heard I had to have a gown, I was thinking of a prom dress, not a full-on Renaissance-inspired costume with a chemise and a corset.

The gown is beige satin with a peacock blue brocade and gold overlay. Unlike an actual period piece, it’s sleeveless. Like a period piece, it shoves my chest dangerously high and makes my waist look tiny.

“Are you sure this isn’t too much?” I ask Cassian’s pretty friend, wondering how they know each other. (Though I have my suspicions.)

The German vampire is voluptuous, with blonde hair and perfect cheekbones. As far as I can tell, she’s exactly Cassian’s type, though maybe she’s not criminal enough for him.

Emera walks around me, surveying the dress. “No, it’s perfect. A touch long, but that will only take a few hours to fix.”

The woman is a designer and a seamstress. When we arrived, she told us she’s lived in Sinaia for seventy-five years, catering to the royal vampires who frequent the castle.

She walks over to the curtained-off cubicle in her studio and asks Noah, “How is the fit?”

“The shirt and jacket are too small,” he answers from within.

Emera tuts. “Such broad shoulders. Yes, come out and let me look.”

I turn, waiting for Noah to emerge.

And I’m not disappointed. He’s wearing a crisp white shirt, but it’s too tight to button, so he’s left it open. His jacket is over his arm like he doesn’t know what to do with it, and…dang.

Emera’s eyes rove over my husband’s torso, and then she turns to me. “You are married?”

“Yes…”

“Good for you,” she says, praising me for my man-hunting skills.

I try not to grin at the annoyed look on Noah’s face. “Thanks.”

He doesn’t like being the center of attention. He really doesn’t like being the center of attention when he’s half-dressed.

“Take it off.” Emera waves her hand at him, impatient. “All that muscle requires a bigger size.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.

Uncomfortable, Noah strips off the shirt and hands it and the jacket to the seamstress. She walks away, leaving him in nothing but a pair of black tuxedo pants.

He finally looks at me, his eyes wandering down my dress.

“Do you like it?” I ask, self-conscious.

“Very much.”

His phone rings, making both of us jump.

“It’s Cassian,” he snarls when he looks at the screen and accepts the call. “It’s about time. Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

I clutch the back of a nearby chair, relieved.

“Is Sophia in the room?” Noah asks, and then he pauses to wait for an answer. When he gets it, he quickly tells him our suspicions before Emera returns.