"She warned me weeks ago," she said.
Her mother huffed. "And you didn't insist she wear something more suitable?"
"I pick my battles."
Kyra laughed.
"I should have thought of that. I am wearing heels, and I can barely walk in them. I am going to be miserable dancing, and Drova is going to be the only woman in the room who can run if we are attacked."
"Why would we be attacked?" Yasmin asked. "We are in the most secure place on the face of the Earth."
That was an exaggeration, but the village was pretty secure, and no one was expecting an enemy attack. The worst that could happen was that it would start to rain, and the boots would be an advantage then as well, but if that happened, footwear would be the least of Arezoo's problems. The wedding would need to be canceled because they didn't have a tent.
"You can still switch to boots," Drova offered.
"I would gladly do that, but my sister would kill me if I did."
Soraya nodded. "You're damn right I would."
Shrugging, Drova let the hem drop and re-crossed her arms. "It's her choice. She can wear whatever she wants."
Kyra was a commander in the Kurdish rebel forces, but even she wouldn't dare defy Soraya. Although given the mischievous smirk that bloomed on her face, she was planning something.
Kyra turned to Soraya. "Back to the issue of you putting yourselves out there. The four of you run a grocery store. You must see every eligible bachelor in this place. Don't tell me that you haven't seen anyone you liked."
So, that had been the strategy. Smart. Kyra had distracted her sisters with the discussion about Drova's boots, and then she went right back to the issue of them not dating.
"I'm not telling you that," Soraya said. "They are all handsome and cordial."
"So? What's the problem?"
"None of them is interested in old women who are mothers to a gaggle of kids," Soraya said.
The room went still for a beat.
Angelica set the brush down with a small click against the table. "That is the most ridiculous thing I have heard all week." She turned to face Soraya. "Did you see yourself after I did your hair and makeup for the cocktail party?"
Soraya waved a dismissive hand. "We had to look nice for the party. Usually, we don't look that glamorous."
"You looked spectacular, and people noticed. I saw the looks you were getting, especially from the male population of this village."
Parisa snorted. "You are good, Angelica, but you're not a miracle worker. We looked okay, but we are ugly ducklings compared to the immortal females in this village."
"That's nonsense." Angelica crossed her arms over her chest. "Besides, most of the males here are related to most of the immortal ladies, and they have very few options of availableunattached ladies who are Dormants. You underestimate your value."
Parisa shook her head. "I don't want to be chosen because these guys have no options, and I'm sure that they don't want to settle for what's available either and would rather wait for something better to come along."
Angelica's face got red, and not because she was embarrassed about something. She didn't know the meaning of the word. The color meant that she was furious. "Stop telling yourself that sob story. I saw a guy literally walk into a tree because he was gaping at you."
Parisa frowned. "Who?"
"I don't know. I'm still new in the village, and I don't know who is who."
"What did he look like?" Soraya asked.
"Tall, dark hair, olive skin, a slightly hooked nose."
"Clean-shaven?" Soraya asked.
