Page 15 of Where Darkness Falls

Cara’s “surprises” usually are meant to come from a well-intentioned place, but typically end in some sort of comical disaster.

“Well, this should be entertaining.”

“I amNOT,underany circumstances,wearing thatatrociousthing,”I say, offended by the monstrosity before me.

“Oh, Maeva. Come on… It’s not atrocious. It’s calledfashion,” Cara laughs.

Surely she is joking,I think.

Cara preens as she holds up a fuschia dress with large puffy sleeves that I am quite certain could fly away on its own—joining a flock of birds on its departure.

Nope.

She’s not joking.

She loves it.

The intricate dress is layered with ruffles upon ruffles from the waist down. It is trimmed with golden lace with eccentric designs down thefront and back of the gown. Cara found it at a shop in town earlier this week and claims she just “thought of me” when she saw it.

There is only one word to describe this dress in all of its fashionable finery.

Hideous.

“Maybe for a flock of swans,” I grumble under my breath.

“Would you at least try it on?” Cara whines. “Miss Hamesch says that this dress is thestyleof the season for the nobility.”

“Cara, shelied,” I reply. “That monstrosity is egregious six ways to Celestae, and she’s probably tired of looking at it. She bamboozled you to make a sale.”

Cara gasps, gripping the dress firmly to her chest as if it might be offended by my words. At this point, I’m not too certain it doesn’t have a mind of its own.

“She would never?—”

“Oh, but she did sweet, naïve Cara. She knew no one within all four kingdoms would ever be caught dead in that flurry of ruffles,” I deadpan.

Her mouth forms an O shape as her eyes widen. “So, you don’t trust my sense of fashion, dear sister?” she asks sarcastically.

“If these are thelittle gemsthat you plan to bring home as gifts, then the answer is a vehement no,” I retort.

“Fine,” she groans. “Let’s make a little wager, shall we? If you are toogoodfor fashionable taste, I will wear it and have the rest of the family vote. If they agree that this dress is hideous, I won’t force you to endure it. However, if they’re overcome with adoration, then you must wear it for the entirety of your birthday celebration…without grumbling.”

I grin wickedly because this is something I HAVE to see.

“By all means, let the wager begin,” I reply.

Cara nods, striding off to her room to change into the flock—I mean dress. While her heart is in the right place, her eye for fashion definitely isn’t. I truly don’t know what she sees in that dress. I suppose when there’s a silver-tongued seamstress whispering nonsense in her ears, she’d be inclined to believe that it is all the rage.

One eternity later, Cara erupts from her room, looking like a fuschia powder puff. I put a hand over my mouth to hide the laughter that desperately wants to erupt. She looks ridiculous, but her face is one of stoic confidence. Her nose is pointed high in the air, as if she is trying to appear regal. My sides hurt as I attempt to keep my composure intact with very little success.

It’s even worse than I imagined… so much worse.

“Well, enough gawking,” Cara says confidently. “It is time to pay the piper.”

Without another word, she stalks down the hall to the stairwell. As she struggles to see over the thousand and one ruffles, I am bursting at the seams. Tears are streaming down my face as I attempt to stifle my amusement. I truly thought once she saw how ridiculous it is, she would give up at once. Though that is just not Cara’s style—stubborn to the end.

Once we arrive at the bottom of the stairs, she turns to me, pointing to the parlor. The twins, Deidre, Fion, and Aine are currently playing a card game, while Amelia and Rolph set the table in the adjoining dining area.

“You must go in first and announce my grand entrance,” she whispers excitedly. “Don’t tell them about the wager just yet. I want their true reactions to this masterpiece.”