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:Can’t you help me pick out something?:

Moving fast through the racks of formal gowns, I scanned left to right as quickly as possible. Something silver. Or was that just her suggestion? Something light and airy and beautiful. :I’m trying to find a dress for Shara.:

He growled plaintively. :I need some fucking help. I don’t want to embarrass our queen.:

:I’ve got this.: Lew steered Ezra toward a rack of suits. :Focus on our queen’s dress.:

Nothing really stood out to me. Desperate, I touched Vivian’s bond. :Can you help me pick a dress?:

:Do I look like I know anything about dresses?: She retorted. :I’m in the men’s section. Ask Leonie.:

I didn’t really care to use another queen’s bond, even if she was our queen’s sibling.

:Never mind,: Vivian said. :She’s here in the men’s section helping Jenrade. She already looks fucking gorgeous. Shara will too, whatever you pick.:

Easy for her to say. I finally saw a glint of silver and pulled the gown out, but it seemed too gaudy to me. Large glittering sequins the size of quarters covered the gown, making it shine like a disco ball. Plus the inside felt scratchy. She wouldn’t want that on her delicate skin. Itching all night. Sounded like hell to me.

:I’m going to give you my greatest secret.: Nevarre sighed. :Ask the goddess.:

:Which goddess? Morrigan? She talks to you?:

:Sometimes, aye. Though sometimes it’s just a feeling.:

Queens, sure. They talked to their bloodlines’ goddesses. But an average, everyday Blood? Seemed presumptuous to me, especially for something as mundane as a dress. :I’ve never really had that kind of relationship with a goddess.:

:The more you listen, the more you’ll hear. I can’t speak for your goddess, but Morrigan loves being asked for Her input, even on something as seemingly trivial as a gown for our queen. Try it. You might be surprised what They say.:

Pressure mounted. Everyone was nearly dressed. Even Rik, with Nevarre’s help. Yet the most important person in our party was still waiting on me to show up with something mind-blowingly good.

I ducked around another rack, hopefully out of sight of everyone, and closed my eyes. Please. Please help me. Devana? Morrigan? Isis? Gulp. Great One? Please help me find the most perfect dress for my queen. I love her so much. She deserves the very best. And I can’t… I don’t want to fuck this up. Sorry. Mess this up. Please. Please help me.

I listened, straining to hear anything. I didn’t even know what to expect. A voice? Angels singing from on high? A lightning bolt? A moonbeam highlighting the perfect dress? Something. Anything.

:Relax,: Nevarre said. :It should be easy.:

:Easy for you to say,: I grumbled.

:Breathe. Wait. Keep your eyes closed and drag your hand over the dresses. See if anything pings. You’ll know.:

Will I, though? Maybe I was too closed off. Too young. I didn’t carry that much of the Great Mother’s blood anyway. It was a miracle I was even a Blood at all. I was under no disillusionment. Other than being friendly, what did I really bring to my queen’s court? Purrs? Sass?

I was no great warrior or killer. Though I’d gladly give my life to protect hers. Just to see her smile. The way her eyes glimmered with sparkling stars against a midnight sky. Her hair. Goddess. Velvety and heavy like a pelt of fur, scented with magic and mystery.

Something sighed softly. A light puff of warm air on my nape, as if someone leaned down to breathe on me. My skin prickled with goosebumps.

Heart racing, I opened my eyes. Disappointment immediately surged through me. A sense of betrayal. Was this a joke? The dress was short and tight and lime green. Great for a club or rave but not ideal for a nice dinner at an exclusive restaurant. In fucking Paris!

A sound curled around me, soft and distant but unmistakable.

Laughter.

An urge came over me, my body obeying before my mind even caught up. As if She told me to turn around. So I could see what was directly behind me.

A mannequin wore a starry midnight dress. Exactly what I pictured Shara’s eyes to be. Smooth, soft material with a luxurious drape that would flow over her body. Elegant and sensual and absolutely perfect. Down to the silvery, strappy heels. I knew before checking they would be the perfect size.

My eyes burned. Closing my eyes, I hugged myself. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Then I grabbed my queen’s dress size from the display and stole the mannequin’s shoes so I could race back to Shara’s side.