“You look…” His husky tone makes my toes curl. “Beautiful is too mundane a word.” “You gifted me this gown,” I say. My original was green and gold as an ode to Vareveth. I thought there was a mistake when I opened the dress box, until I realized each detail was plucked and polished solely for me, down to the heels with straps that climb up my legs like vines. “You designed it.” He shakes his head. “Must have been someone else.” “You’re the only one I speak of my dragons with. Nobody else close to me would know what these colors mean.”
