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“Why? Because you don’t answer to me?”
“Idon’tanswer to you,” was his answer.
“What is it you’re scared of?” I asked him.
He frowned. “You think I’m scared?”
“Why else would you be doing this? You can’t still say loyalty. Not now. Are you scared of hurting me? Of me hurting you? Of hurting Apollo?”
He pressed his mouth to my forehead with a strained groan, “Scared isn’t the word I’d use,” before letting me go and walking away.
I was getting to him. I knew I was. It would be somewhat immature and ridiculous to keep pushing him, but I did it anyway.
I spent all of Sunday with Florence, Exie and Triss. Between us, we tightened all my uniform, ordered some more bras online that would definitely show up under our white shirts, and ruined my school shoes so I’d have no choice but to wear my higher heels for the few days it would take to get another pair.
I walked around the school all the next week, flaunting all the goods I could with the self-confidence of a woman who was going to get what she wanted if it killed her. My skirt was shorter, my shirts were tighter, I wore my tie loose and my top buttons undone, and tall mary jane heels. Everyone noticed, but I didn’t care. No one but the Sisters berated me, especially when I started a trend of wearing coloured bras under our white school shirts, and non-standard school shoes. With so many of us doing it, the most they could do was keep reminding people it wasn’t quite seemly and wait for the fad to blow over.
By the end of the week, when my replacement school shoes had turned up, even the Sisters had given up sending any of us to change, so coloured bras and whatever black shoes we wanted it was.
Valen and I had barely exchanged a glance for the whole week. But Florence was my extra eyes, and she told me that, every second I wasn’t looking at him, his expression was enough to make her blush. Apparently, he was staring at me so hotly I may as well have been walking around naked.
A (now) expected side effect was that Apollo had also taken notice.
His hands lingered on me longer. His touch was both softer and more insistent. Once or twice, goosebumps had flared and I’d found my heart fluttering like mad.
We already had a dinner coming up on Saturday with my parents at the Callahan Estate but, when Apollo suggested that he and I go into Bieityn on Friday for Club Night, I’d made myself so hot and bothered that I agreed on the spot.
I was still curling my hair on Friday evening when there was a knock on the door. I caught Florence’s eye in the mirror and we exchanged our surprise.
“You expecting someone?” Florence asked.
I shook my head. “No.”
“Huh,” she said as she went to open the door.
“Your carriage... Oh, Flo,” came Apollo’s voice.
“Flo-rence,” she sounded out to him like he was a moron.
I turned and saw he was brandishing a rose. He was brandishing a single red rose and was standing in our doorway.
“I thought I was meeting you at the garage?” I asked, putting the final touches to myself.
He rocked back on his heels and grinned. “I came to you.”
Apollo was clearly very proud of himself.
I couldn’t help looking at Florence.
There was something very weird about the whole thing. Florence and I had talked about this exact thing on my birthday. Talked about the fact that gods didn’t go to princesses. But here he was. Maybe this wasn’t a god. Maybe this was what a prince looked like.
I wasn’t going to knock it. The quite proud ‘are you proud of me, too?’ expression on his face was sweet. It was endearing. It made me smile and look forward to the night out.
I took off my robe and threw it onto the bed as I shook out my curls. I heard Florence snort and looked at her, but she was watching Apollo. I turned to him and found him with his jaw practically on the floor. I had to say, it was the intended effect. I was just hoping that someone else would think the same.
I wore a backless pale rose gold sequin dress. It was the tightest piece of clothing I think I owned, so it was good that it barely skimmed my thighs because then I could still move in it. For all intents and purposes, it was a halter neck. The straps were made out of rose gold chain, which wound intricately around my neck a few times like a choker. There was also a strand that fell between my breasts, easily seen considering the neckline was only just above my belly button.
It was a piece of shit to get on, and there was a whole thing with tape that had required me jumping up and down for about ten minutes to make sure nothing was going to slip out at the wrong time.
