The sun was a gentle, pleasant warmth in the sky, a welcome change from the tumultuous weather of the past day.
The grand Carson carriage, with its polished black lacquer and silver crest, pulled to a smooth stop in front of an imposing, elegant building on the most fashionable street in the capital.
A footman in crisp uniform immediately opened the door. Amber descended first, a picture of effortless grace. She was dressed in a dress of pale lavender, her posture perfect, her movements smooth.
The footman then helped Delia down. She looked up at the gilded letters above the large, clean windows: "Lady Tremaine's Modiste." It was the most exclusive dressmaker in the entire kingdom.
