I click my tongue in frustration.
"...I'm not built for ballgowns, Talia..." I mutter.
Talia seems unconvinced. She smooths out the blue fabric hanging from my shoulders.
"The blue suits you. It brings out your eyes. Don't worry." She adjusts my hair one more time before sighing. "If I hear any man speak a single ill word against my sister's beauty, I swear I'll beat them unconscious with the nearest candlestick."
She huffs, nodding to herself with conviction. She takes my hand, looking me over a final time in the mirror. "Let's go."
I don't move.
"I..."
I'm nervous.
Why?
...
I'm scared.
...
What is there to be scared of?
Nothing.
Right?
...
That life...those experiences...it isn't this one.
It's not.
Talia squeezes my hand and smiles at me. "Trust me."
I draw in a breath and finally nod.
