Chapter 8

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"This is ridiculous

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"This is ridiculous." Nessa sighed, pushing the uncooperative strands of her copper hair back into the pile she tried to arrange on the top of her head.

It looked alright, but the natural wave in her hair had other ideas rather than staying in the restrictive style. Nessa brought her fingertips to her scalp and loosened the pile of hair until it sat more freely on her head, bringing long tendrils down by her face to accentuate her high cheekbones.

"Better," she mumbled as she scrutinized herself in the mirror. "I think."

Nessa tried to remember the last time she went dancing, and going to a ball wasn't on her bucket list. It's not like they were common anymore, unless you were a celebrity or wealthy, and she wasn't either.

Her green eyes flicked to the dress draped over the chair that sat pulled out from the small desk in her room. The silk resembled the colour of jade, and the fabric shimmered in the dim light of her room as the candles cast their reflection on it. The window was open, allowing a gentle breeze to waft inward, filling the room with the faintest scent of the forest. Sounds of laughter and chatter drifted through the air as the sun set on the horizon.

To show up in such a dress made her nervous. She had worn nothing like it. Was the King trying to make a spectacle of her—mock his prisoner by showing off her obvious discomfort? Despite her time with Hannah, it was clear she was still being kept against her will, and no amount of good treatment would change that. She had to get out of here and get home.

Despite her anger at her situation, there was a part of her that refused to push Trystan from her mind. The intense way he looked at her caused her heart to quicken and her skin to warm. Perhaps it was just apprehension. Yes, that had to be it.

Trystan confused her. He kept her here against her will, yet he treated her well in every other way. His interactions with her were as cold as ice, yet beneath the chill in his eyes, she sensed a heat, a warmth that lived behind his cool formality. He was breathtaking to look upon, with this long hair, strong features, and toned body. There was an aura of power about him that both frightened and stirred excitement within her—against her will.

Nessa slipped the green dress over her body, pulling it down until it sat snug against her curves. It revealed her shape, but was loose enough that the luxurious fabric draped in all the right places. The gown sat off the shoulders, and the sleeves extended to meet her hands at a point. The emerald silk hugged her torso, leaving a hint of her cleavage visible and flattering her hips before falling away from her body in a full, yet flowing skirt.

She smoothed her hands over her legs and exhaled, relishing in the material's comfort. It was easy to swap between her scrubs and sweats, and this reminded her how nice it felt to put something on to dress up. However, the anxiety of never quite learning how to dance, let alone conduct herself at a formal event, returned.

"I will make a fool of myself." She looked into the full-length mirror mounted on a nearby wall. At least if this turned out to be a dream, she wouldn't have to live with the mortification. "I'm better at nursing than dancing."

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