I try to slip away, but Brit stops me, reaching out her good arm to take my hand. Her eyes glow with pleasure as she looks at my dress. I’m not sure what she sees that I don’t, but I still look like I’m wearing a maternity dress made of curtains. “I cannot thank you enough for wearing my dress, Princess Serafina,” she gushes, giving me a small curtsy. Callum grins. “No need to be so formal. It’s just Fi.”
