Eleanor Rose Clothing Novels & Stories

“The door is open, Eleanor.” “I know, but I still prefer to knock on the door.” She said shyly and I smiled before approaching her. She looked down at the flower dress that she was wearing, something that she seemed excited about. And knowing that her things had arrived, I could understand the reason behind her happiness; “I only came to return the shirts.” “Eleanor, you don’t have to…”

Ava gestured to the three assistants holding the clothes Eleanor had selected, behind them. Eleanor rolled her eyes. “You don’t need to try them all. If you seem tired, we can just pay and take the rest home to continue later or tomorrow.” Eleanor placed her hand on her shoulder, “You’ve been dressing too dull lately. Are you trying to scare away joy?” “I’m not trying to attract it either,” Ava muttered under her breath. “What was that?” Eleanor’s eyes narrowed. “Nothing,” Ava lied quickly, shaking her head. “Fine. I’ll take the dresses,”

I adjusted the simple cotton nightgown I’d been wearing and made my way downstairs. Eleanor stood in the sitting area, pacing like a caged lioness. She wore an ivory silk blouse tucked into high-waisted charcoal trousers, a gold statement necklace resting against her collarbone. Her heels clicked sharply against the marble floor with each agitated step. Everything about her—from the tailored cut of her clothes to the designer handbag perched on the armrest—screamed wealth and authority. “Good afternoon, ma,” I said quietly.

ANAHERA Eleanor made me try on a dozen dresses before her eyes lit up at a maroon colored dress with a single strap and little frills at the end. Boy was it short, and when I looked at the price tag, I nearly fainted at what I found. “I can’t afford this. It is beyond my budget.” “That’s the one. Add it to my bill,” she instructed to the attendant, then looked at me again. “Consider it an apology for wasting your time and a gift for letting me come with.”

Eleanor and Severus are downstairs, finalizing details for the visit. Suddenly, the sharp, deliberate click of boots echoes down the hallway. Roseline storms in, the heels of her boots striking the floor with a rhythmic determination. She tugs at the hem of her trousers, then throws herself onto the couch with an air of irritation. I’ve never known her to wear dresses much — always more tomboy than femme fatale. It’s only recently she’s started embracing a touch of femininity. Funny how Eleanor thinks I’m interested in her romantically. Tomboy or not, my heart’s only ever raced for one person—and one person only: Eleanor Cage.

It was deep midnight blue-almost black- with silver embroidery that caught the light. Traditional but modern. Powerful but feminine. “It was my Luna ceremony dress,” Eleanor said quietly. “I’ve been saving it for forty years, waiting for the right woman to wear it.” My throat tightened. “Eleanor-” “No crying. Chen just got here and she’ll murder me if you ruin your face before she even starts.” But Eleanor’s eyes were suspiciously bright. “You’re going to be magnificent, Sage. I know you don’t believe it yet, but you will.”

He was about to speak when headlights shone from outside, flooding the venue with light. The car lights were on. Everyone turned to look. Someone exclaimed, "Isn't that Richard's Rolls-Royce?" The car at the door was indeed the Rolls-Royce that he usually drove. Then, a figure stepped out. Eleanor appeared, wearing a red evening gown, her hair done the same way as Maria's, and holding a long gift box. She was wearing the same dress and hairstyle as the woman of the night? On someone else's anniversary, at that?

They gasped. Rose's gaze fell on Sharon and her anger and jealousy were clearly visible. She had disliked Sharon since the moment she saw her. She wanted the same dress for the party but she couldn’t find it. She assured herself that Sharon’s own was fake but not until Ella her stepdaughter shoved it to her face. But that was exactly what Ella wanted. She wanted to see her in fury and of course, it worked. “Ms. Rothschild. Which of the stores did you get it from?” The ladies asked her.

A woman who was choosing love. Rachel started to cry too. --- Eleanor knocked on the door at noon. "May I come in?" Eleanor asked. Rachel wiped her eyes. "Yes." Eleanor stepped inside. She was wearing a pale lavender dress and her signature pearls. Her hair was swept up in an elegant twist. She looked like a queen. "Rachel," Eleanor said. "You are the most beautiful bride I have ever seen." Rachel's throat tightened. "Thank you, Eleanor." Eleanor walked to her and took her hands. "I want to give you something."

I had Lara who always stood by my side giving me encouragement all day. "Yes, hopefully," I replied flashing her a smile. It was evening time, and the full moon was out. The shifting period was the only time Omega's were allowed to dress in beautiful and handsome dresses. Lara helped me into my milky gown that flowed on the ground. She let my hair fall down. My hair was a shade of chestnut with gold specs on it. "Your hair is beautiful," Lara complimented. "It's a normal color," I responded. "It's not. Don't deceive yourself," she warned me.