Something hot and moist was blowing erratically on my cheek, an oddly patterned breathing far too close for comfort. I seemingly also just woke up, and whatever was in face needed to go.
I groggily groaned, turning my head away from the intruder. Was Dante breathing on my face?
At my movement, the weight on the bed next to me shifted, and a cold, wet, tongue licked the side of my face I had exposed to it by turning.
With a disgusted start, I squealed, sitting up in bed and resting back on my hands. At my side between Dante and I sat his adorable black dog, who grinned at me, tail wagging uncontrollably against the bed.
"After everything I did for you?" My question was thick with allegation.
Dante let out a hum of approval, opening his eyes and shooting me a devilish grin from his pillow. "What was it again? Something about me being cold for banishing man's best friend, who only wanted to sleep with his owner?"
Dante's should not be finding this funny, it was gross. "I hope he sheds uncontrollably. I hope there's fur on every—" My half-hearted wishes were silenced when Dante flipped over, his arm grabbing my hip and pulling me back down on the sheets and under him, as he silenced me with his lips.
The kiss was short, only a fragment of what I was lost in last night, but it was sweet nonetheless. Dante pulled away, leaving a foot between our faces. "Happy birthday. Also, this is the only bed in the house, so unless you suddenly like futons, fur on my bed is fur on your bed."
My stupid heart did a flip at the birthday comment, but my much more sensible brain chose to ignore it completely. "This huge house, and you don't have a guest bed?"
He raised an cool eyebrow. "I have two packhouses to host guests in. You're the only other person that's stayed here." He said the second sentence like it was a simple fact, of little importance, but to me it was so much more. I was the only other person who's had the pleasure of staying in this amazing house?
Notanyotherwomen? Notone?
I would not think of that. More importantly, I would not bask victoriously in that like I felt like doing.
Shaw whined, scooting up further in the bed to get between us. He nudged his nose into Dante's neck, which Dante quickly moved back from before Shaw's tongue darted out to lick him, too.
"You have quite a busy day today. I'm going to go make us breakfast, but at nine thirty I need to leave for the Lancaster pack house to deal with shit from yesterday and check in."
My mouth opened wide to contest this, fight for a day of nothingness, but a wide grin from Dante and a point to the dog on his bed shut me up. "You bargained away your complaining rights for that. See you downstairs."
With a groan, I shut my eyes, bringing my hands up to cover my face. I really had told him I wouldn't complain about today for him to let the dog to stay with us. And how does Shaw repay me? Licking my face. Ugh, disgusting.
Dante got out of the bed, but paused at his nightstand. "Here, I'll turn these off." He pulled the drawer open, pulled out a small remote, and with the push of a button, the endless windows and skylight lightened, revealing the bright sunlight already soaking the land. With that, he walked out of the room, which left just the dog and I on the bed.
"You screwed me, Shaw. I hope you're happy."
He answered by placing his head on my stomach, looking at me with those big brown eyes.
Okay, we were good again. I couldn't stay mad at this insanely cute dog.
The glass in the room finally cleared up, from their previous opaque black to the clear windows I had seen last night and awed at. I don't know what sort of technology could be put inside glass and block the sun like that, but it was insane. Goddess, everything was gorgeous. The forest across from me shone with renewed vigor, bright green and deep brown everywhere the eye could see. Above me, a picturesque, cloudless blue sky filled the space, with the sun sitting just above the end of the tree line I could see in front of me. Wow. The floors were covered in streams of sunlight, and some filtered in from the skylight as well, bathing me in golden rays. This was all a dream.
Shaking my head at my awe, I rolled over, grabbing my phone off the nightstand. Upon unlocking it, I was greeted with a low battery message, letting me know I only had 18% charge remaining. I didn't even think about charging it last night, so this wasn't a surprise, but after clicking the big OK button, I was greeted with an onslaught of texts.
From: Max (4:38 A.M.)
Happy birthday! We're all really happy to have you back for this one, even if you're not here.
France was five hours ahead, so I assumed Max sent that when he woke up. A breath escaped me at the second part of his text, but I wasn't saddened by his message like I thought I'd be. I was happy to have them back, too, even if it was horribly weird and so much had changed.
From: Dad (7:42 A.M.)
Some of us didn't want to wake you like Max did, so happy birthday sweetheart. We wish you were here, but take advantage of all that Georgia offers—especially the sunshine. FaceTime us when you can.
If he could only see this room.
From: Isaac (7:21 A.M.)
Happy birthday!!! 19!!! Get extra drunk today, for me. Mom and I also want you to have a good time with Dante ;) ;) ;)
From: Isaac (7:22 A.M.)
Mom says don't listen to me, I'm already on my third drink. But also says that doesn't mean don't have a good time with your mate. The signals are very confusing here.
From: Isaac (7:23 A.M.)
They don't like my Florence and Dante alone time jokes. Especially Max. But have fun!!! 19!!!
I covered my mouth with my hand, staring in mortification at Isaacs texts. I was so glad Dante and I were away from whatever was going on over there right now.
I had texts from the rest of my family, as well as some from Sapphire, Finn, and the twins. Thankfully, I did not see a single text from any unknown numbers, meaning the King and Queen had not texted me anything, and I could hide from the fact that I was mated to their son for some more time.
The smell of bacon filtered up from downstairs, which had Shaw jumping off the bed and running down the stairs.
Guess it's time I get up, too. But this bed was so comfortable.
With a shake of my head, I pulled myself out of the bed, making my way to the duffel bag I'd need to change. Dante had said I had a busy day, and whatever that meant, I was certainly not prepared for it. What should I even wear?
I'd ask him while we ate breakfast. I could waste more time after eating by asking for that tour I was promised, prolonging the stupid activities of the day.
Turning away from the bag, I instead went into the bathroom, and after ten minutes, I had leisurely washed the dog saliva off my face, brushed my teeth, and ran a brush lightly through my hair. When I finished, I made my way downstairs, taking in the amazing house in the daylight.
Last night, I must not have noticed the long skylight over the foyer, which beamed sunshine all over the marble floors.
The closer I got to the kitchen, the more I could hear and smell the sizzling of something delicious. Dante was a skilled cook, and living here with him alone meant I'd probably have the treat of getting to eat his food often. He might actually get me to gain weight.
I entered the kitchen then, finding a glamorous, tall space, all the cabinets a dark wood, with the countertops of what looked like cement. Shiny steel appliances sat in between and inside the dark cabinets. At the opposite end of the room, Dante stood in front of a gas range, spatula in hand as he worked on something in a pan. Windows spanned the wall to my left and over by Dante, filling up the space between the countertops and the cabinets above, although the wall to my left had no upper cabinets, allowing for ample natural light. In the center of the room, a round island of that same wood and cement combo sat, four barstools perched around it. Behind the island, a hint of black fur poked out, swishing on the floor. I smiled at the sight of the dog so close to Dante.
This room looked like it was taken straight out of a dream bachelor pad inspiration board. It had extreme masculinity while also dripping in elegance and class.
"I'm almost done." Dante spoke, turning his head to look at me.
The food smelled delicious. I was excited. "How did you learn to cook?" There were plenty of cooks in the palace to ensure Dante never had to lift a finger. As busy as he was, I was surprised he took to the time to make his own food.
"I used to do my homework in the kitchens with the chefs. I'd distract myself with asking them questions and watching them."
I smiled at that answer, walking further into the room and moving to sit at the island. If I knew a thing about how to cook, I'd ask if I could help, but I knew there's nothing I could do that would make me an asset instead of an obstacle. So I simply sat there and watched Dante flip the perfectly golden toast in the pan, the other side sizzling as it touched the hot pan.
He was still shirtless, which made this all the worse, as every movement of his arms had his back muscles flexing. Goddess, this was going to be difficult. After how easy it was to give in last night—as well as the last few days—I was going to struggle to stay focused on keeping a distance between us. His skin was so tan, soft to the touch, and he was drenched in sinew. This was unfair. I'd never succeed.
In my foolish, heart-eyed haze, I missed Dante plating up the food, and it wasn't until the plate was sat down in front of me that I really came back into focus.
He had made a gorgeous plate of French toast, with raspberries, syrup, and powdered sugar on top. He even threw in two strips of bacon on the side. I stared at the food, shaking my head in awe. "Wow. This is amazing." This time last year, had I even been fed?
The answer was almost certainly no. If I had been, it wouldn't have even been half this, and I would've given most of it to the other girls. They weren't as skinny as I was, and I tried to keep it that way.
"You okay?"
Snapping out of it, I nodded, forcing a small smile on my face. "Yes. Sorry." I grabbed a piece of bacon and bit into it to, hoping the act of eating would pull my attention elsewhere.
Dante looked unconvinced, but didn't press it, and we ate breakfast in light-hearted chatter. I was so distracted by our conversation that I didn't notice I had eaten so much until the plate was nearly clean. My appetite usually stopped me well before then, used to a much less lavish diet.
However, the end of breakfast brought something I was very excited for, which was the tour. I had seen a few rooms and already I was blown away, but this was Dante Valentino-Lancaster—there was bound to be more.
After helping Dante put the dishes away, a task so simple even I could do it, we made our way through the archway that separates the kitchen and the back of the house. Immediately, I was met with those same floor to ceiling windows that seemed to line the house, as we stepped into a dining area. A rustic wooden table sat in the center with an eccentric, black metal chandelier that floated above the table.
All of this was beautiful and elegant, and the immense living room directly to the left of this space screamed for my attention as well, but it was what I noticed just outside this room, in the gray cement deck, that absolutely made my jaw drop.
"Is that a pool?" The question was stupid since I had functioning eyes, but I couldn't help but ask it. There was a clear rectangle in the ground, it's insides obscured by a tan cover, and I couldn't see the far edge of it.
"Yeah. It's heated, too, so it's good for whenever."
The meaning there was that even though it was December 28th, I could go swimming whenever.
Dante and I lived very different lives, and his was so exciting and lavish.
I could only shake my head, speechless. I didn't even have the urge to swim—the idea of a bathing suit freaked me out, knowing it would show just how undernourished I was, and I couldn't remember the last time I had taken a dip in a pool. Obviously, it had been a very, very long time.
Back in the kitchen, Dante's phone started ringing, the buzz against the counter causing a muted sound.
Dante rolled his eyes, turning around and leaving me by the dining room table.
I let my eyes wander over the space, finding every inch of it immaculate. The dark furniture and rough materials contrasted beautifully with the gorgeous scenery all around us, and the plants scattered inside further brought the forests outside into the house.
Drifting to my left, I found the living space, which required descending a few stairs to get to. The ceilings in here were so high, with those same floor to ceiling windows that lined the entire house, it seemed. A huge, white, fur-looking rug covered the middle of the room, with a circular black ottoman in the very center. A matching black sofa sat adjacent to the ottoman, facing the same view the bed faced upstairs. Next to the sofa facing where I stood was a cream loveseat, much smaller than the huge sofa, and in between the loveseat and I were two gray chairs, a triangular table sat in between them
Another fireplace lay on the wall to my right, directly across from the black sofa. More plants were placed all around, sitting in corners and on the tables between couches.
Dante returned then, never having answered the call. "You really like plants." I stated, a little surprised. There wasn't a plant in sight in his room at the palace, although I had only been in there briefly.
"Actually, I don't know a thing about plants. I couldn't even tell you the names of any of them. When Sapphire saw this place after I had it furnished, she said it needed plants and bought me a few, and Shane thought that was the making of a hysterical joke, so every one of my birthdays since she's sent me a bunch of plants." He shook his head. "I don't think this house can take another birthday."
I smiled at that. "It brings color into the room, at least."
He waved a hand at the walls. "Is there not enough color outside?" Turning to me, he changed topics. "I need to leave soon, but I can show you the last few rooms before then."
I nodded, but my mind turned to his departure. Would I just sit here until he was done? He said I had a busy day, but whether that happened before or after what he needed to do at his pack house I was uncertain. And while I may have had plans for today, what did tomorrow entail? Would I just sit here and wait for him to be done with his work?
The thought depressed me. I had spent years sitting in wait. I wouldn't do it here. If he had nothing for me to do, I'd figure it out. He had endless beautiful land for me to explore.
Smothering my worries, I followed Dante through the dining room to the other side of the house, where a hallway led to glass doors that entered out onto a deck. To the right, another hallway led down. Lining the side of the wall with no doors was a long bookcase, filled with countless volumes and littered with more plants, picture frames, and other decor.
"That's a bathroom," Dante pointing to the door closest to the glass doors. "Down here is the office and the garage. Besides the other bedroom upstairs, that's the house."
"The bedroom with no bed," I replied, nodding at the information.
"Sorry, the futon room."
I couldn't help but smile at his joke.
Ding dong!
The sound of a doorbell brought a wide grin to Dante's face, and he pointed a finger towards the front door. "That's for you."
My eyes widened as my stomach dropped. "Dante, no—"
He walked around me, making his way down the marble floors. "You'll appreciate it, I swear."
Appreciate did not mean like.
After a shake of my head, I followed after him, my arms wrapping around myself. I was completely underdressed for company, and I had meant to ask Dante what I should wear for his plans today, but clearly it was too late.
I was a few feet behind Dante when he opened the door, revealing a short, dark haired man.
He grinned at Dante, not waiting for an invitation inside as he grabbed Dante's free hand, shaking it with fervor. "Ah, good morning Prince! I am very happy to have the chance to work with the Princess." His green eyes flicked to me then, and he gasped. "Que preciosa, darling. What a beauty!" Rushing over to me, he extended a hand.
Shooting a nervous glance to Dante, I reached out my hand, offering a small smile to the man. "Hi." I had no idea who he was or why he was here, but clearly it revolved around me.
He placed both hands on mine, shaking it with the same excitement that he had for Dante, if not more. "A beautiful doll! We will have a good time together."
"This is Carlos. Carlos, this is Florence."
Dante stepped away from the door, and in came a huge silver rack, hanger after hanger of white clothing bags curled around the center rod.
My eyes widened.
"I remember you said she might not like them too flashy, but I brought lots to change her mind." Carlos said to Dante. Turning back to me, that huge smile was back. "Ah, I almost forgot. Happy birthday!"
I could die right now. Right in the middle of Dante's foyer. The mortification would take me.
"You can set up in any room, Carlos. I'll be back in a few minutes." With that, Dante walked up the smooth stone steps back to his room, leaving me with this crazy Spanish man that was going to dress me up.
Carlos clapped, turning to the person pushing the rack. "El Príncipe me dijó que hay un cuarto arriba. Vaya, pero no uses su habitación con la Principesa." The woman nodded, silently moving to the other side of the rack to lug it upstairs.
Goddess, if she pulled that upstairs, I'd be stuck down here with Carlos. I needed to get out of this situation.
"I'm sorry, I'll be right back." I bid to Carlos, before I rushed around the woman and ran upstairs.
I heard Dante in his closet, and not wanting to walk in on him naked, I stayed outside, closing the bedroom door behind me. "What are you doing?" I was not going to stay here and deal with clothes. I had some, and that was enough.
"You're living out of a duffel bag, Florence. You have a closet to fill."
"What?" What closet? "Are you really leaving me with this guy?"
Dante exited the closet, having exchanged his shorts for dark jeans and a gray t-shirt. He held something crimson, but he unfolded it, revealing a sweater.
"He's happily mated, so I'm not worried. Carlos is my mother and sister's stylist. He does a great job." He slipped on the sweater, the knit fabric snug on his enormous biceps and shoulders. Goddess, let me be blind! Why did I notice these things?
"He's a stylist for your mom?" The Queen? There was no way I deserved to be dressed by the same person the Queen was being dressed by. No thanks.
"Yes. Sapph too." He seemed to be reminding me of that as if it made Carlos any less professional, like someone I should be dealing with. His sister was still the Princess.
Outside the door, I heard the other bedroom be opened, and the clothes rack be wheeled into the other room.
"You need clothes. There's no arguing on this. Carlos will make it fun."
Another clothes rack sounded going up the stairs, and I sighed. This was my nightmare.
"I will see you for lunch, alright? Try not to be so unhappy." Swooping in, he pressed a surprise kiss to my lips, making me forget about this awful fashion show being prepared for just a moment.
He pulled away and made his way to the door, holding it open for me. I exited, and we found Carlos halfway up the stairs, another rack of clothes behind him. He smiled at us when he saw us, his hands clasping together.
"Ah, fantastic! Her closet is the far one, yes?"
"Yes. Thank you again for coming all the way out here on such short notice, Carlos."
Carlos waved a hand, acting modest. "It was no problem. I would have swam here to dress up the newest Princess." He finished climbing the stairs, looking between Dante and I. "Princess, I have hairdressers and makeup artists if you have anything in mind."
My eyes widened, and I wrapped my arms around myself. Did I need to change my hair or start wearing makeup? I was plain as could be, but that was all I had to work with. Now I had options. Did I want to do anything?
Dante answered for me, but of course, he did so in a language I didn't know. "No toques su cabello. Estoy obsesionado con eso." To further whatever he just said, he grabbed a strand of my hair, before dropping it.
Carlos nodded, assessing me up and down. "Of course. Come on, Princess. We have a lot of clothes to get through." Spinning around, he followed the clothes rack into the other room.
I quickly turned to Dante. "What did you say to him?"
He smiled. "Nothing you'd like. Try to have fun, please." Stepping to the side, he made his way around me and down the stairs. "I'll see you later!" He called as he walked down the foyer, heading down towards the dining room.
"Princesa! We must get your measurements!" Carlos called from the other room.
Goddess, this was not going to be fun. Not at all. Suppressing a groan, I made my way into the other room, hoping I could find any way out of this.
* * *
A long time and thousands of articles of clothing later, I stood on the circular platform in the center of the room, rolling the ache out of my shoulders.
"My apologies, Princesa. Only a few more."
"Haven't you given me enough dresses?" This had to be the fiftieth one he made me try on. Looking in the huge mirror on the wall, this dress was clearly more of a gown than a simple dress, and I had no reason to have a gown. I did not go to balls or galas or anything of importance.
It was a beautiful dress, though. Floor length, navy blue, the softest of silk fabric. The bodice was tight, a dark blue wrap of tulle around my stomach with triangular pieces of silk covering my breasts and sliding under the tulle. If I had substantial boobs, they would be falling out of the deep cut neckline, but my unnaturally thin frame meant only a hint of my breasts were seen. The skirt was flowy but not poofy. It was gorgeous, but I had no use for it.
"But how can you say no to this?" Carlos walked around me, standing behind me in the mirror. He grabbed my hair, twisting it and bringing it up behind my head. "I see a beautiful bun and some fake silver here." He motioned a hand to my neck, gesturing to the area of my chest that was bare. "Guapísima, no?"
I shook my head. "Where would I wear this to? I don't go to any events."
Carlos's eyes widened, and he dropped my hair. "No no, Princess. You must start. You would steal all the attention."
He was certainly just flattering me now, as he had been for the past few hours. I had no idea what time it was, but it had to be almost lunchtime.
As much as I hated to admit it, I hadn't had an awful time. Carlos was an energetic little man, running around to find me more clothes and passionately loving or hating each item. Everything he liked, one of his beautiful assistants took into the other room. Even when we didn't agree. He simply assured me that I would come around to it.
"You will keep this one, yes? Not for too big a ball, but something. For the big events you call me and I will bring more. These are for smaller things." The excited smile on his face was one I could not find it in myself to deny, and I begrudgingly nodded.
"Alright. Thank you." This dress would never again see the light of day, but I wouldn't refuse Carlos.
"We are almost done, Princess." Carlos ushered me back behind the changing screen, running back to his rack of tortures. Goddess, I definitely didn't envy models after today.
"One last dress, yes? Then we will show you some makeup."
I threw my head back, rolling my eyes. I had no idea how to use makeup, nor did I wish to learn. The last and only time I had encountered it was when Batilda was getting us ready for that awful ball.
Sliding the dress off my shoulders, I stepped out of it, placing it on a free hanger next to me. One of the assistants reached around, handing me a shorter, velvety green dress.
I blinked at the length of it, knowing on my taller frame it would be short. "Are you sure about this one?" This was a sexy dress, meant for sexy people to look good in. This was not for me.
"I make no mistakes, Princesa."
I had long tried and failed to get him to call me Florence, and by now his nickname for me rolled right past me. Shaking my head, I grabbed the dress, slipping it on. The fabric was soft inside and out, but pulling the straps over my shoulders revealed that the dress barely came a few inches down my thighs. This was a dangerous choice.
"Come around," Carlos insisted when it was clear I was hesitant.
I made my way over, back onto his circular platform. "This is too short, Carlos."
"I do not see the problem with that." He commented, stepping in front of me to tug at the bottom of the dress a bit. He crossed his arms over his chest, taking in the look. "It is not regal, but you are young. This is a drinking dress."
"You think I can go drinking in this? To a club?" Goddess, there was no way I'd be able to wear this in front of that many people. I felt completely exposed.
"Of course! Look at your legs, Princess." He gestured to my legs, lengthened by the shortness of the dress. "In heels, your Prince would never take his eyes from you. You must keep this."
Stupidly, his words actually got to me, and my awful, rotten heart flipped at the idea. Carlos really thought this dress would catch Dante's attention?
I twisted in the mirror, looking at it with new eyes. The dress was tight all the way from the top of my breasts, where it pressed against them enough to give me the slightest cleavage at the top of the dress, to the short part of my thighs that the fabric actually covered. It cinched at the waist, tighter there than anywhere else, but giving me a figure usually not allowed by my curve-less frame.
"I see two options for this." Walking around to my back, Carlos played with my hair again. He draped the hair in front of my shoulders, making it look fuller, and allowing my wavy dark locks to cover the emerald straps. "Down and natural, beautiful. Or," Gently, he pulled my hair back and up, running his hands on my scalp to smooth the hair into a straighter looking updo, with my hair in a makeshift ponytail with his hand. "Up. You line your eyes, and perfecta. The most enchanting."
Carlos's touchy nature had at first been very odd, but after awhile, I didn't mind. He had mentioned how excited he was to have a new Royal doll, and while I was neither of those things, he was far too happy for me to want to upset him. Besides, he only touched my hair and the clothes, probably wise of him, knowing how mad Dante was the last time he smelled someone else on me.
I bit my lip, contemplating the outfit. It certainly found a way to make me look slightly less plain, and I was stupidly excited by the things he had told me.
It's not like I'd be clubbing anyway...
"Alright. But this is the last one."
Carlos's grin stretched the entire length of his face, as he dropped my hair and clasped his hands together. "Perfect! Go change, makeup time."
Two minutes later, I had changed into a new, oversized white sweater Carlos had given me, with black skinny jeans. The sweater was ridiculously soft, and when I had tried it on earlier, I fell in love with it.
As I walked back out of the changing screen, Carlos had started sending the now completely or half empty racks away, his beautiful assistants carefully taking them back down the stairs.
"Your Prince has said not to touch your hair, but I wish to supply you with makeup. You do not need it, but for nights you wish to wear that dress and dazzle, you might want a little." He winked, turning around to grab something from one of the huge bags he brought.
My eyebrows furrowed at that first bit of information. "Dante said not to touch it?" Spanish was close enough to French that I probably could understand it if I tried hard enough, but I had missed what Dante had told Carlos earlier.
"Oh, yes. He likes your hair." Carlos smiled, bending over to grab the whatever he was looking for and bring it over. "It is very beautiful. Naturally wavy and dark."
Carlos spent the next few minutes explaining to me what was what, revealing that makeup was much more intense than I could've imagined, but eventually told me I wouldn't need half of these things unless I suddenly developed human hormonal skin. Wolves didn't get acne.
Finally, I heard the front door open down below, and in walked Dante. No more fashion! I wouldn't need anymore new clothes for a hundred years.
"Ah, it is the warrior. That is my exit cue." Stepping away from me, Carlos grabbed my hand and pulled me up out of the chair. He gave me a serious look, his dark eyes burning into mine. "Now listen, Princesa. You are very beautiful, but you are thinner than my models. I hope everything is alright."
I had expected him to bring up my weight earlier when I was trying on all his clothes, but he hadn't. Now was the first time he'd mentioned it, and he was the first person to only wish me well instead of critiquing me or trying to fix me. My eyes welled with emotion, and I found myself at a loss for words. "I, um—"
He shushed me. "It is alright. I do not need to know. I only wish to see you healthy. Come, the diabla is downstairs."
Diabla? He had said the warrior was here. Was that not Dante?
I followed him, blinking away the stupid tears that had lined my lower lids. "Thank you, Carlos. So much."
He turned his head, shooting me a wink. "I live to dress my dolls, Princess." As we descended the stairs, Shane's eyes flitted up to us, an eyebrow raised.
"Dante got busy doing something so I'm here to take you to the pack house. Happy birthday."
Carlos shook his head, shooting a glare at her. "You must be nicer. She is a gift."
Now I certainly wouldn't say that.
Carlos turned back to me, slipping on the coat he left by the door. "You will call me soon, yes? New wardrobe for the spring?"
My eyes widened. He was going to switch all that out in a matter of months?
He laughed at my expression, leaning up to kiss both of my cheeks. "Your Prince said you would fight me a little. Alright. At least call me before you go to any events. Adiós, hermosa."
"Thank you again. Bye."
With that, Carlos was gone, leaving just Shane and I in the foyer.
"Are you ready to go?" She asked, looking me up and down. "It's colder today, and Dante will be unhappy if you don't have a coat."
I had no idea what cold was here, but Shane was in a thin jacket, so I decided I'd listen. "They're upstairs. I'll be right back."
Upstairs, I walked into the closet that was apparently mine, and immediately gasped. This was a room all in itself. Lights were recessed into the ceiling, as well as lights lining each of the mirrors that sat in the center of each wall, planked on both sides by racks and drawers. A cute, gray bench sat in the center, with a chandelier hanging above it.
My hands went to my head in exasperation. I couldn't escape this elegance no matter how much I tried.
Shaking it off, I went to where I saw the jackets. This was insane. I didn't need most of this, and I clearly saw plenty of things I told Carlos were unnecessary. That sly little man. I was fine with my duffel bag of clothes.
This had to be a fortune, too. There was no way the seventy dresses Carlos made me try weren't all crazy expensive, and this man was used to dressing Sapphire and Queen Emerald. Goddess. I had fallen into this trap because Carlos was impossible to say no to. There was no way Dante didn't know that, either.
Annoyance seeping into my pores, I grabbed the first thinner jacket I found on the rack and made my way back to Shane. Dante would not be tricking me into any more gifts. This was more than enough.