Eva's mother took this as a perfect chance. She didn't want to spend anymore money but it would be embarrassing if only Serena would wear a good dress. This chance was perfect for her not to spend any more money on Evangeline.
"It's not necessary, thank-"
"Great idea! Would be such a find idea for her to entertain," said her mother and Evangeline was horrified.
She pulled her mother by the elbow and her mother swatted her hands away but not giving up, she once again tried and brought her mother away from Adrian. She hushed, "Mama, wearing a gown bought by a man meant allowing them to also take it off."
"Where do you learn such idea? That is not true. It was just out of the kindness of his heart!" insisted Mrs Crestmont with a huff.
"The Seraphs have their own rules," she tried to teach her mother, hoping she'd listen, "And they are particular about this sort of stuff."
"What?" Her mother snapped. "I think that you are not quite right in your mind, Evangeline. Do you think Sir Iverson there wants your body in a lustful manner? Clearly he is just being nice and kind to you."
"You don't know a heart of a person. Just because they act nice, doesn't mean that they are always so nice in the heart," she explained again, pressing her tone and shaking her head but she could see her mother's hands trembling in fury.
"Serena would listen to me but you? You are always against me. Wear the gown he bought or I will not allow you to wear anything at all to the party!" Mrs Crestmont turned with her heels clinked sharp to the wooden floor.
Eva's heart sank immediately.
Her mother wasn't just threatening, she would do it. Unlike her mercy toward Serena's willfulness, her mother never once had the same mercy and kindness towards her.
This was bad. Bad!
Adrian who had heard everything curled his lips. He began to walk to one of the gowns, noting how all of them was just too dull. Then he saw her walking towards him and pretended as though he didn't notice her unwillingness.
"What kind of color do you like? Crimson would go extremely well with your blonde hair," he said, pointing to the red gown but Evangeline couldn't do anything, turning toward the dress that was placed in the older section of the gowns, pulling on any of the dresses she saw and falling to a plain white dress with long sleeve and a square neckline.
There was intricate lace around the neckline and though it looked simple, the fabric was glistening like pearls, perfect for the occasion but won't look much too striking or bold.
Adrian didn't agree at first but thinking how the plainer the dress would stop others from noticing her charm, he agreed at once, "Great. You should go and try the gown."
Evangeline bowed her head, her waist bent to show the gratitude of a farmer to a King, not the one of a man or a woman. It sets a difference, at least to her and Adrian but unlike her who wish he was aware of it, Adrian pretended not to notice it.
She clutched the gown against her chest, her mind still replaying her mother's threat. When she glanced up, all the curtains had been drawn tight, save for one room left unopened at the far end. She didn't notice the divider between the two sides of the fitting room, nor did she sense the danger in choosing the wrong cubicle.
As she entered the door to the tailor had chimed again but not from the front, rather from the back. The tailor who was working in the back noticed who had appeared and immediately dropped her hand, bowing deep almost to the point of reaching the floor when the man's appearance appeared.
He threw the same tailored cloth that the servant had brought earlier. The same servant with the raven pin on his chest.
Then with a demanding yet cold voice, he spoke, "Was the mistake done on purpose to see me, Madam Carls?"
"How could I dare," Madam Carls bowed deeply and took the cloth he had threw to the floor, "It must be a mistake done by my new prestige. I promise to not make a mistake again, milord."
"You better," he answered, his words light but the threat made Madam Carls sweat. Though he was as frightening as the devil herself, Madam Carls proudly continued her work, letting him sit at the place behind the fitting room, the only place allowed for high esteemed individuals, those of Lords and Higher statuses than Dukes or Duchess.
Bored, the man walked toward the wooden maneqquins, his fingers lining on the halfmade dress crafted from swans.
"To kill a couple of swans for this," he hummed and Madam Carls who heard it answered.
"We only took one of the swan from the lake, milord."
"But it must have made a mate and killing one of them, might as well kill the other swan. They die from heartbreak if they see their mate dies, just like us," he whispered while clutching to the feather. His once kind sound words turns dark as he crushed the feather's bone, crushing it until it fell to the floor, useless.
Meanwhile, Evangeline fit herself into the dress, she only realized that the gown was buttoned with almost twelve buttons on her back and though she could button half of it, the rest require an acrobatic move she couldn't muster.
After giving a few more try, she sighed.
She had walked too quickly and wore it without thinking. Since everyone was a girl here, shouldn't she be able to find one of the clerks?
Thinking so, she peeked her hands out, her slender fingers trying to call for a person, "Excuse me," she whispered, fearing that if she peeked her head out she might as well expose her bosom. "May I have some help? The buttons on the back of the dress is quite difficult to do alone."
There was silence for a moment and her heart thump. What if no one wants to help? Should she change to the dress she wore before and ask her mother to come with her?
"Excuse me?" She tried again and this time, she felt a hand that had brushed back against her fingers.
The man standing before the curtain of the fitting room smiled when seeing her slender fingers requesting for help and his curiosity begged him to touch the hand that was as soft and fragile looking as the feathers of the swans he had just held.
Relieved to feel someone was here, Evangeline dropped her head downward and pulled the curtain, "The buttons on the top please," she held her hair, bunching it up on her head while bending down and looking at her shoes so to make the helper button the dress even faster.
But what she wasn't aware was the pair of violet eyes staring at her small waist. His eyes landed on her golden locks, the gentle voice that paired with it like a swan and the beautiful way the dress had stuck to her hips.
With a curl of a smile, he raised his fingers, placing it over the button on her back...