Page 96 of Fallen Court

It’s not like there had been much of a choice. Something told me the creatures of New Orleans brought their A game to the holiday, so that had ruled out anything cheap and tacky, and Lach’s request to avoid tights further narrowed my options. In the end, I’d actually found something perfect, and if he didn’t like it, he could kiss my ass—preferably repeatedly…while naked.

“Are you ready for this?” Ciara unzipped the bag from the costume shop, and a cascade of tulle and lace and silk spilled out.

“As long as you’re helping.” Between the petticoats and the corset, I didn’t know where to start.

She grinned mischievously at me. “That’s why I’m here.”

I suspected she had also volunteered her services because it was a sure way to get some distance from her newly assigned bestie, as she kept angrily calling Roark.

Ciara helped me into the gown, fussing along the way as she adjusted corset strings and fastened hooks and hoops. The dress was straight out of a fairy tale, which was kind of the point. The soft pink fabric of its ample skirt shimmered like rose petals in full bloom, but it was the strict boning of the corseted bodice I suspected Lach would appreciate. Mostly because it pushed my breasts to swell over the scandalous lace-trimmed neckline. The effect was almost worth how tightly Ciara had drawn the corset strings.

“I feel like I woke up in a storybook,” I said, admiring my reflection in the mirror. She’d already worked her magic on my hair and makeup. I spun around, smiling at the way the fabric swished across the marble tile. “Why don’t we still dress like this?”

“Ask me that again after you try to use a toilet,” she said dryly as she picked up the final piece of the costume: a golden tiara set with glittering crystals.

I held up my hand as she moved to put it on my head. “I think that’s a bit much.”

“Whatever.” She planted it there anyway, tucking it into my carefully glamoured hair. “You’re Lach’s mate now, and he’s still prince of the Nether Court, you know. That pretty much means you have to wear a tiara. You’re a real princess.”

I swallowed at the thought. It’s not like I didn’t know that; I’d just become really freaking good at pretending it wasn’t true. Trust Ciara to deliver the tough love.

And tonight was supposed to be fun. I didn’t want to worry about court politics. Not when I got to live with the reality of them so frequently.

I picked up my phone to check the time, frowning to see a half dozen new texts that I promptly ignored. If he was going to cancel, I would go without him. I’d already spotted my first problem, though. “Where do I put this?” It wasn’t like the dress had pockets.

“Reason number two that we don’t dress like this still,” Ciara teased. She studied the skirt for a minute before she circled her finger. “There. How’s that?”

My hand slipped down to discover a perfect phone-size pocket. “I don’t know why you don’t use magic all the time. It’s so damn useful.”

“Magic has a cost.” A shadow passed over her face, but it was gone in an instant, like a cloud passing over the sun. “Unfortunately, there’s no magical solution to trying to pee in a hoop skirt. Consider that fair warning.”

“I’ll skip the ambrosia,” I promised. I wouldn’t need it if Lach showed. Not when my body was practically vibrating with hunger for him, his absence turning our new mating bond into an itch I couldn’t scratch. I hoped this particular symptom wore off quickly.

“You better get ready. Lach is supposed to be here soon,” I said, checking the time before I slid my phone into my new pocket. “Do you want help?”

“I’m easy.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Don’t wait for me. I’ll find you both.”

My dress took up half the elevator compartment, and I lifted the skirts nervously, afraid I might get caught in the sliding doors. Heads turned as I entered the lobby, a few people murmuring compliments on my costume as I passed them, but I was only interested in the prince waiting for me in front of the revolving door. Relief washed over me that he hadn’t changed his mind, quickly replaced by awe. He’d always looked like something out of a fairy tale to me, but tonight he’d traded his villainous black attire for something that suited him better.

He looked like he had stepped out of a different time. The tailored golden coat hugged his body, opening to reveal a crisp, white shirt with its ruffled neck buttoned high. His fitted black pants showcased his muscled thighs as suggestively as a pair of tights might have—but I wasn’t about to tell him that. As far as I was concerned, he could wear these pants every day.

I nearly tripped on my skirt, dumbfounded by how impossibly beautiful he was, even wearing his human glamour. Later, I’d have to figure out a way to officially thank the French.

Or was it the English? My brain wasn’t working right.

“Milady.” His hand swept out as he bowed deeply, giving me a glimpse of the rake he might have been a few centuries ago.

“I bet the girls didn’t stand a chance with you back in the day.” I suddenly wished I’d opted to add the fan the saleswoman had suggested. It had seemed silly at the time. Now? In his presence? Not…so…much.

“They did not.” He grinned as he rose up, revealing a bright-orange bucket painted like a pumpkin. “For milady’s candy.”

I tried not to laugh. “I don’t think I can handle you calling me that all night.”

“Princess it is.” He held out a hand. “Shall we?”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” I asked.

He paused as if considering the question, ticking off a list on his fingers. “Bucket. Costume. Beautiful woman. Nope, I’ve got everything.”