Page 108 of The Cannibal

The kitchen was preparing for the many nights of hosting. There was a new smell every time I left a room. It certainly made me miss my full palate, but even with limited flavors they always made it worth eating. I should be so lucky with my condition.

The parlor had been rearranged with larger tables for routine breakfast service. The lounge furniture was moved along the perimeter and cafe sets dotted the majority of the room. The hallway had a couple extra sofas by the windows as we passed. The decorative weapons on the wall had since been replaced with more portraits of horses; my most logical guess was liabilities.

The door to the master bedroom was already open. As we approached, a member of the staff waltzed through the door with a red dress over his arm like a matador. Much like a bull, the color pulled my eye. But with Sidney’s guiding hand on my back, I was sucked into the room instead of going where the eye traveled.

Red—everywhere.

Fabrics, skirts, dresses, shoes, ties, and handkerchiefs. It was like I was back in the dress shop, except it was more than dresses.

Silas was conversing with two other men; one had a long measuring tape draped over his neck, the other a pincushion tied around the wrist. Both looked quite suave, similar in style to what Silas favored for his own wardrobe.

His eye caught me in his peripheral vision. At first it was cold, a dash of annoyance from instructing far too many people in so little time.

But then he took a second look and realized that it was me.

He didn’t even explain to the tailors as he abandoned the conversation with no hesitation.

“There you are.” He smiled, cupping my face with both hands and kissing the top of my head. “I know Phoebe fashioned you with day clothes, but I don’t think she remembered evening wear.”

“I thought representatives were due to arrive tomorrow evening?” I took a grand look at the state of his room. “It’s a bit late to be making anything.”

The chairs were draped with several fabrics, all different weaves and textures. On the bed were accessories neatly displayed to be matched. Two mannequins were propped in the middle of the room with a standing block beside them. A full mirror was placed in front of the block for viewing.

Silas laughed as if I’d said something truly amusing, waving me forward.

By the lack of signature panic that usually overcomes the man, I had a feeling he wasn’t aware of my medical emergency. I suppose Luka didn’t tell him yet.

I glanced at Sidney, his position firmly planted by the door.

“Sidney is your shadow for the duration of the visit.” Silas pointed at Sidney without looking. “He is forbidden to leave your side for any reason other than my say-so.”

“Outsourcing your stalking?” I teased.

“As much as I would love to watch you for all hours of the day, my attention will be split.” He did a light shove on my chest, knocking me down into a parlor chair.

“What about if I were to take a nap?” I suggested. “Should he watch me sleep?”

“Yes.” Silas threw a dress my way. “Please undress, we need an idea of your sizing in”—he paused to check his watch—“twenty minutes if we want to cut fabric by the end of the hour.”

“What if I am undressing?” I glanced over my shoulder at Sidney, who shook his head at me.

“Sidney, turn around.” Silas snapped his fingers at him.

Sidney did as he was told, facing himself toward the door.

I reached behind to undo my bodice, then the skirt, kicking it awkwardly.

“You’re moving too slow,” he mumbled, nearly buzzing around me to take the dress, opening it, and gesturing upward.

I lifted my arms straight. The lightheadedness not as terrible as before.

He tugged the dress over my head, spinning me by my hips to clasp the back. It was a long, simple dress with gatherings across the neckline that continued off the shoulder. In the middle was an oval brooch of gold and what looked possibly like garnet.

“What if I am to bathe?” I hummed, staring up at the wall as Silas dressed me.

“What of it?”

I gestured to Sidney.