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Right on time, as though sensing the princess’s discomfort, he swept in, his smile less oily and more subdued.
“If I may be of assistance?” Not waiting for an answer, Franklin stepped around the rack, removing a few items of clothing. “I would say these would be a good fit for Your Highness. I have some truly magnificent gowns, fresh in from the second octant, in the back that I could bring out as well, if you would like?”
“She’d like some pants,” Vee called from where she lounged. Meeting Franklin’s eyes, she took a big sip of tea, trying not to gag.Goddess, this stuff was simply awful. How did those rich Witches stomach it?“Casual clothes, only. No gowns.”
“Ah, but of course, then I have just the thing.”
Franklin was a sartorial force of nature, moving around the store, holding fabric swatches up to the princess’s face to judge coloring, pulling items seemingly at random. He skillfully took charge, and Vee couldn’t help but appreciate how at ease he made the princess.
By the time Franklin had shepherded the princess to the dressing room, Vee had given up on her tea, setting it on the small table next to her chair. Who cares if fancy people drank it? It was clearly some sort of trick. A joke that people low born like her weren’t in on. Vee abandoned it and instead got up to look at the clothing herself.
She picked a few items from the racks. A tan leather jacket, some new boots, a few pairs of pants. She piled them all on the shop counter, knowing a princess wouldn’t think twice about a few extra gold added to the bill. It had been too long since she’d had any new clothes, and Vee deserved a little treat. And it’s not like someone swimming in gold would notice. Hell… the princess could probably feed every stray in their gang for life and not even bat an eye at the cost.
The thought made her chest tighten a little in anger.
“Vee?”
The voice coming from the dressing room sounded lost. Vee set the bag she was admiring down and turned. The princess was there, face poking out from behind the dressing room door, looking terrified.
Had Franklin said something to upset her? Something roiled in Vee’s chest, something white and hot she didn’t recognize. Had Franklin done something to hurt her?
“I… I don’t know if I can wear this,” the princess told her quietly. “It’s…well, it’s quite scandalous.”
“Oh, come on, you can show me.” Vee flashed her a smile. The princess liked her smile. Vee could feel the way it made her heart beat a little faster, the way it brought blood to her cheeks. It worked. With a grimace, the princess stepped out of the dressing room and turned to look at herself in the tall mirrors.
Wow.
Franklin knew what he was doing. The pants were a fine, expensive linen, light and flowy in a pale cream that complemented her skin tone perfectly. They were high-waisted, which was good because the top he’d paired it with in matching cream cut just below the ribs, revealing two full inches of smooth midriff.
Amalia twisted and turned, looking at herself from all angles in the mirrors.
“I look…” she frowned.
“Beautiful,” Vee finished, her voice husky. Amalia’s eyes snapped up to hers in the mirror, and a soft blush rose to her cheeks, even though Vee hadn’t been smiling at all.
But it was true. She did look beautiful. Without the layers and layers of lace from those ridiculous gowns, Princess Amalia looked… older. Not so much like a girl, but a woman. The outfit showed off her thin frame and long legs, while still looking like something a highborn aristocrat would wear.
“I was going to say powerful,” Amalia admitted, glancing down at herself and smiling.
Powerful? Vee considered her, cocking her head to the side.
Yes. She did look powerful, didn’t she? She looked like a proper queen.
Instinctually, Vee reached for that power. She hadn’t consideredAmalia to be powerful before. Everyone in the city already knew the princess had just a fraction of her mother’s power, knew she was barely a proper heir at all…
And yet… yes. There it was, that pulse of power under her skin. Power was a force like gravity, pulling lesser beings into its orbit. Alastair had that pull. So did Uncle Jas. Fey’s pull was like a vortex, drawing everything that existed closer to her.
Vee was surprised to feel Amalia had it, too. It was… muted, somehow, muffled so much she hadn’t noticed before. Even as she stood there watching Amalia admire herself in the mirror, that pulse grew a little stronger.
Huh…
Amalia’s fingers traced the visible skin of her belly self-consciously. Vee frowned. No, that wouldn’t do. Heading back to where she’d found her new leather jacket, she flipped through the clothing, pulling a piece out and jogging back to where Amalia stood.
“Here,” Vee held the jacket out for her to try, and Amalia gave her a curious look before slipping her arms inside and letting Vee straighten it on her shoulders.
“Perfect,” Vee said, giving her a big wolfy grin as they looked in the mirror.
The jacket was the same cream coloring as the rest of the outfit and fell to mid-thigh on her. It was fitted, but it managed to give the outfit just a modicum of modesty.
