Page 33 of Dark Breaker

“That too,” she agrees.

“Would you like to try any on?” Lucia asks.

“Yeah, sure.” I pick out some dresses that I think might be good candidates. Lucia takes my measurements, and then meets me in the fitting area at back.

I try on the first one she gives me. It’s a Princess affair: slim fitting, with vertical seams flowing from shoulders to hem, and no seam at the waist. Too bad it’s so tight I can barely fit into it.

“Does this one come in a larger size?” I ask.

“No, unfortunately,” Lucia replies.

I give up on that one and choose another Princess that has lace on the sides. It’s easier to fit inside that one and I have Angela tighten the laces for me.

I stand in front of the mirror.

“How do I look?” I ask her.

“Beautiful,” she replies breathlessly.

I give her a dubious look. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Oh yes,” she tells me.

“I miss my leather jumpsuit,” I mutter.

I remove that particular dress and give it to Lucia. “Set this one aside.”

“Done,” Lucia replies.

I try a few others, but none really stand out. I try different colors, too. Pink. Light blue. Cream.

“Do you have anything in black?” I finally ask.

Lucia arches that eyebrow again. “Black?”

“Uh huh.”

She nods slowly. “We do, actually. I’ll be right back.”

“You can’t choose black,” Angela says after she’s gone. “Black is for mourning.”

“It suits me,” I tell her. “And maybe I’m mourning because I have to marry him.”

She shakes her head. “Well, if you like it… this is the year of the black wedding dress, after all.”

Lucia returns with a black dress. It’s a ball gown with a fitted waist and bodice and a full skirt. The bodice has brocade flower patterns along one side, while the other side is completely black.

I put it on. It’s amazing. I love how the floor-length bottom puffs out. There’s a slit in it, too, so that my right leg pokes out when I walk.

The slit and the one-sided brocade match perfectly with my hair, considering I keep one side shaved low, while the other grows out. Nothing like a little dichotomy to spice up a look.

“Wow,” Angela says.

I stand in front of the mirror, admiring myself. “Yes, this’ll do.” I glance at Angela. “Wait, do I really want to look my best for him? It almost feels like a dress like this is wasted on him.”

“I think you have to look your best,” Angela tells me. “It won’t be wasted. You want to get the upper hand starting from day one.”

I nod. “I agree.” I glance at Lucia, who’s staring at us with a confused expression. “All right, looks like we have a winner.”