The audience was silent as they watched me, waiting. In this gown, fabric kissing and stroking over my form, and with these bright gems glittering on me, I was not the helpless human creature Mr. Reddy's audience paid to see. I was pristine. Hunter had taken great care backstage in brushing out my hair until it was glossy, and Myra had proven herself to be a much defter hairdresser than I'd realized, twisting my long auburn locks up into something worthy of a princess.
