Into the Heart of a Killer: Memoirs of an Assassin

Chapter Twenty-Five

I had been backed into a corner, and it made me want to kill her.

It was a familiar emotion, now, but one I rarely acted on without necessity. I had never once responded to Amirah's letters, and I couldn't help but speculate that this forced attendance was her way of getting me to talk with her. I couldn't figure out what on earth was so important that she'd play this hand, but in the back of my head I made a mental note to be as unpleasant to Amirah Ashdown as possible. Maybe then she would get the message.

I hated her.

And the next time she called upon me to do something like this, I might not be so hesitant to kill her.

-

As I expected, Ceseth made it clear to me that I had no option but to attend. And so, Ceseth had handed me a large pouch of cash and forced me to go buy a gown—something I was completely unaccustomed to. I figured if I was going to go, I might as well try and make myself look good. But what were the latest fashions? How did the women wear their hair—up, or down? Did women wear short sleeves on their dresses, or long ones? Was the popular color light or dark? Did a different color symbolize a different thing? If I was unmarried, was I expected to dress and act differently than a married woman? If I wanted people to leave her alone, what color should I wear? But if I wanted people to leave me alone but not judge me, then what color did I wear?

There were too many questions for me to comprehend all at once. I hated Ceseth for throwing me into a situation I was so horribly unfamiliar with. But some of my questions were answered as I perused the different available dress shops. I noted that many of the dresses were rich gem-oriented colors—colors like vivid emerald greens, dark sapphire blues, various pastel opals (though there weren't many of those), and vibrant ruby reds. It seemed flashy colors were the most common and the most fashionable. None of which I would look terribly fashionable in.

But the very last dress shop I went to was totally different than the others I had been to.

The dresses in the shop were all relatively muted colors, ranging from mulberry to black.

It was definitely more like me. And though I didn't want to go dress shopping, my options were limited and my time was short. There were (probably) plenty other dress shops in the nearby towns, but I wasn't about to leave this town for a dress I'd only wear once. The other shops had been relatively useless. But as I made my way into this shop, I found myself smiling. Smiling. The dress shop was exotic. It was filled with dresses that I thought would put all the other shops' dresses to shame. And I was pleased to find that one dress immediately caught my eye.

I moved towards the black dress that hung on the mannequin. It looked figure-hugging and was obviously made for a woman of small stature without much of a figure to begin with. It was relatively plain, made of a simple black fabric with a sheer black veil that started at the hips and hung around the skirt. The top of the dress was embroidered with light grey patterns. It was minimalistic, but beautiful. I looked around the shop for the owner and frowned when I came up empty. The whole shop appeared to be almost abandoned. There was a tag with numbers that rested atop the shoulder of the mannequin (the dress itself had no sleeves). The price made me cringe.

"Hello?" I called to the seemingly empty shop. When there was no response, I deflated. Of course the one dress I would like to have would be in an empty shop. I considered stealing it, but thought better of it when I imagined myself trying to "secretively" haul a multilayered dress out of a shop. It would be a little less than inconspicuous.

"Helloo?" I repeated, making my way to the back of the shop. "I'd like to buy the dress out front? Is anyone here?"

I sighed and folded my arms crossly as I made my way back to the front of the shop again. As I reached for the handle, the door swung open and in came an elderly woman carrying bags of what looked to be groceries. She didn't seem at all startled by my presence.

"Oh, hello, dearie," she said, waving me aside. I almost reached for a bag, but she'd already bustled by me. "You here for a dress? You don't look like the dressy type."

I stood and stared at her for a moment. "Um... no—I mean, yes, I'm here for a dress, but—" I shook my head. "Never mind. Yes, I'm here for a dress. I'd like that black one."

The old woman dropped her bags on a low table and turned to see where I was pointing. She tutted and shook her head.

"No, you've got too much going on up top for you to wear that dress, it would be too tight across the chest," the woman said. I looked at my chest. There wasn't a lot there to begin with. Why would she say there was too much?

"Well, you could let me try it on. It looks like it fits—"

"No, no, no! Heavens no. No. It would look horrid. I promise. I know these things," she winked at me and hurried across the shop. On the other side of the room a dark raspberry dress was displayed on a mannequin, and the elder quickly set about pulling it off. This dress was even less busy than the first. It held no decorations of any type and instead fell straight to the floor. There wasn't even minimal flourishes like the veil around the skirt. I couldn't say I liked it as much.

"Try this one," she said, coming to me and handing the dress over. I took it, as she gave me little choice, and then allowed myself to be herded back to the back of the shop, where she shoved me into a box-like room and drew a curtain. "Call me if you need me, dear. I'll be out front."

I didn't started changing until I heard her footsteps fade. I changed quickly, in the hopes she wouldn't return before I had finished getting dressed. A very small mirror as in the middle of the wall, hardly enough to show me a third of the dress. It wasn't the one that I wanted, but I decided I'd settle for it.

After all, I had a long history of not getting what I wanted.

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