I relaxed slightly, thinking I had somehow avoided wearing a dress in public, at least until she began sorting through the clothes again and selected a sharply tailored black jacket, a crisp white blouse, and finally a black skirt.
“Sera.”
“I’m not making you wear a dress, am I?”
“Even so…”
The skirt looked considerably less intimidating than the gown I had spent most of yesterday wearing. It was simple and fitted, with a high waist and a narrow cut ending around the knees, and although there was nothing remotely extravagant about it, paired with the jacket and white blouse the entire outfit had the sort of sharp, professional appearance that made it obvious whoever wore it expected to be taken seriously.
Unfortunately, it was still unmistakably a skirt.
“Doesn’t Evelyn own any pants?”
“Very few, and the ones you have are more suitable for a regular day out.”
“Why?”
“You’ve disliked wearing them since you were young. You always complained that having fabric wrapped around your legs made you uncomfortable and said skirts were more comfortable, so I eventually stopped ordering pants unless an occasion specifically required them.”
I looked down at the fitted pencil skirt.
“And this is supposed to be less restrictive?”
Sera gave the skirt a brief glance and helplessly shook her head.
“Apparently, your standards for comfort are highly selective.”
I couldn’t even argue with her. They weren’t even my standards.
Sera laid the jacket, blouse, and skirt neatly across the upholstered bench at the foot of the bed before returning to the wardrobe.
“You have worn this combination to headquarters before. More importantly, the purpose of your appearance today is to reassure people that nothing has changed. Appearing dressed as you normally would will help accomplish that.”
That was irritatingly reasonable, and I rubbed one hand across my face while wondering how my Awakening had managed to take my life in directions I could never have predicted.
Sera returned holding something made from such thin black fabric that, for a moment, I wasn’t entirely sure what I was looking at, then placed it beside the skirt.
I picked it up carefully between two fingers.
“What is this?”
“Your tights.”
I let part of the sheer material unfold.
“You expect me to wear these too?”
I examined the almost transparent fabric.
“They look like they would tear if I breathed on them too hard.”
“They will not, provided you put them on properly.”
That qualification did little to reassure me, so I placed them back down before I accidentally proved my point.
“So the complete plan is a blouse, a skirt, those things, and the jacket.”
“That is only the clothing.”
I slowly looked back at her.
“There’s more?”
“Of course. After you shower, I’ll take care of your hair and makeup. You’ll also need earrings, a necklace, your watch, and a few other accessories.”
My eyes moved back toward the outfit.
“Right. I forgot that pretending to be Evelyn apparently requires an entire preparation process.”
“You are not pretending, my lady. You are Evelyn Vale.”
I glanced at Sera.
Her face was perfectly calm, as though she hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary, and I couldn’t help wondering what exactly Evelyn had told her to make her act like this.
The black-and-white combination carried a very different kind of authority from what Evelyn had worn the previous night. The evening dress had been elegant and glamorous, designed for a gala while still helping her maintain the polished maturity she clearly preferred in public, whereas this outfit was even more severe, with the fitted black jacket sharpening her silhouette while the white blouse and dark pencil skirt stripped away most of the softness and glamour and replaced it with the controlled formality of someone who expected to walk into a room full of senior executives and be treated as their equal.
Considering what Evelyn had told me about dealing with executives old enough to be her grandparents, I suspected that was deliberate.
I stared at the clothes for another few seconds.
There was still something fundamentally strange about willingly putting on a skirt. Yesterday, I had simply inherited whatever Evelyn happened to be wearing when we swapped, which made the entire situation considerably easier to blame on circumstances, but today I actually had a choice.
Unfortunately, the sensible choice appeared to involve wearing one anyway.
“Fine.”
Sera looked toward me, seemingly surprised that I had surrendered so easily.
“I’ll wear it.”
A faint trace of surprise crossed her face.
“You are certain?”
“Don’t make me reconsider.”
“I wouldn’t even dream of it.”
Judging by the almost invisible curve at the corner of her mouth, I wasn’t entirely convinced.
Sera turned toward another section of the wardrobe and began looking through the shoes.
“Please tell me you’re not planning to put me back into yesterday’s heels.”
“Those were evening shoes.”
“Thank God.”
She removed a pair of black pumps and placed them beside the outfit.
I eyed the heels suspiciously. They were considerably shorter than the jewelled monstrosities from yesterday, perhaps three inches at most, with a simple pointed design that matched the rest of the outfit.
“How bad are those?”
“You have worn them for entire workdays without complaint.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
“They are approximately eight centimetres.”
After yesterday, eight centimetres almost sounded reasonable.
Almost.
“I suppose I can survive that.”
“You adapted to the previous pair rather quickly.”
“My feet would disagree.”
Sera ignored the complaint and glanced toward the clock.
“You should shower now. Breakfast will be ready by the time we finish your preparations.”
I looked toward the bathroom.
“Twenty minutes?”
“Preferably.”
“With this?”
I gathered a handful of platinum-blonde hair and held it up.
“You only need to wash it. Leave the rest to me.”
That sounded like an excellent arrangement. I had barely figured out how to keep Evelyn’s hair out of my mouth while sleeping, and attempting to style it well enough to face reporters sounded like asking for disaster.
“And after that?”
“Then I will put on your makeup and jewellery.”
I looked toward the dressing table, where several boxes and bottles were already waiting.
“Nothing like yesterday, I hope.”
“Of course not. The gala required a different presentation.”
That was comforting until I noticed how many cosmetics were sitting there anyway.
Author’s Note
I’m thinking about slowing the upload schedule down a little and posting around one part a day, usually in the evening/night.
The main reason is that I want to give the story a better chance to grow on Scribble Hub instead of going through all of the remaining chapters too quickly. Since I’m still pretty new to the platform, I think keeping the story active for longer might help more readers find it over time.
I haven’t completely decided yet, though, so I’d like to hear what you think. Would one part a day be fine with you?