Chapter Twenty-nine

  My jaw clenches with every word that leaves Evalene’s mouth. She sits across from me with the dressmaker beside her, several fabrics splayed out in front of them, each a different shade of white.

    "I would say we should go with cream, but it clashes with your skin tone. We would not want you to look more washed out than you already do," Evalene says picking up the 'cream' colored fabric and tossing it to the side. 

    "Then might I suggest we go with eggshell, your majesty?" Leo, the dressmaker, says, picking up another piece of fabric that looks exactly the same as the other one.

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