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“I could maybe recreate it?”
“Did you pay enough attention to the fabric and the lines to do that? It was woven by pixies—not easy to replicate.”
“Oh. Probably not. Sorry?”
She snorted at me. “No, you’re not. But next time, could you maybe send the expensive dresses back to the tent and make your new getups out of something else?”
I looked down at my white dress and tennies. It wasn’tthatbad. I’d been feeling kind of Jane Eyre-ish and tragic. And it wasn’t like there were phone booths for me to slip into to change into my superhero costume while I dutifully teleported cocktail gowns back and forth.
“I’ll see what I can do. Meanwhile I suppose I’d better get ready for Rogue’s visit. He probably wants dinner again.”
“He does,” Starling confirmed. “It’s all arranged. Nightgown and robe then?”
“I wish. Somehow I agreed to wear a nightgown of his choice.” Sure seemed as if I’d agreed to an awful lot lately. I must be slipping. “So I might as well wear a decent dress.”
“You mean—not like whatever it is that you’re wearing?”
“Hey! Leave my tragic Jane Eyre outfit alone.”
She cocked her head at me. “Does that mean anything at all?”
“No.” I sighed and plunked myself down in front of the mirror and started brushing my tangled hair. Starling took the brush out of my hand and did it for me, with considerably more soothing care than I gave myself. “I had a self-defense lesson with Officer Liam and some other stuff happened. Plus Falcon is a right bastard. It’s been a day.”
Starling raised an eyebrow, catching my eye in the mirror. “What else happened?”
I realized I didn’t want to tell her about the ghost-cat. Turning my head to the right, I could maybe see a faint gleam of white-silver on my left temple. Just a hint, a minor capillary breaking. I resisted the urge to lean forward to study it more closely.What are you looking at, Gwynn? Oh, just signs that I’m turning into a monster.
“Gwynn?”
I started, for a moment thinking we were having the conversation out loud.
“Oh, nothing. Just Rogue being high-handed and Falcon being the nasty dictator he is. Is there anyone here not grabbing for power?”
It was a rhetorical question, of course, but she screwed up her face, thinking hard. “No. I don’t think so. After all, what else is there?”
What else indeed?
Starling left my hair down and helped me into a pretty blue gown that matched my new earrings.
“Do you know how I can take these off, by chance?”
She shook her head without looking. “They’re very beautiful.”
“But?”
Starling shrugged, not meeting my eyes. “But I’m surprised you accepted them.”
“Why? What do they mean?”
“You don’t know?”
I reined in my impatience. “How would I know, Starling? I’m notfromhere.”
“Oh,” she said in a small voice. “Well, you might not like the answer.”
Color me oh-so-surprised. I kicked some pillows aside, sending them blinking into different jewel-tone shades, and padded barefoot over to the food table. Pouring myself a full glass of wine, I took a long, grateful sip, and braced myself.
“Okay, tell me.”
