#Chapter 54 – Nothing to Wear

Six days later, Victor’s house is in complete chaos.

The boys and I enter the kitchen door to a flurry of action – Betas everywhere, of course – some on guard, some carrying boxes and taking instructions. Then, there are a bevy of hired persons hanging lights in the back yard, decorations in the house. Everything is all in white, like a human wedding. But for the wolves, it’s the color of unity, of family, of births and deaths and claiming.

I raise my eyebrows as I press the door closed. “Don’t you two go anywhere,” Amelia says, pointing a pencil at the boys as they dash past, a clipboard propped against her slim hip. “We need you for final fittings of your suits.” She consults her list. “And for consultation with the makeup artist.”

The boys promptly ignore her and run up to their room.

“Makeup?” I say, coming over to the kitchen island where she has set up her command station. “Isn’t that a bit much?”

She rolls her eyes at me. “Just a little powder, Evelyn. To keep them from shining on the TV cameras, obviously.”

“Oh, obviously,” I say, dismissive. Whatever. She can cover them in white like a powdered cake for all I care.

Victor comes into the kitchen then, talking with his own force of Betas. I notice that I recognize more faces than I used to and wonder, passively, if it’s because I’ve gotten used to them? Or because, for some reason, Victor is using the same ones in the same positions. This isn’t his usual style – he likes to have the Betas perform all the jobs in a cycle, to “keep them fresh.” I shrug, dismissing this as well. Again, not my problem.

“Ah, Evelyn,” Victor says, coming over to me. “I’m glad you’re here. Did you bring the boys?”

I nod and smile at him, pointing upwards to indicate that they’ve gone upstairs.

“Good,” he says. He turns to the Beta standing at his left elbow. “Will you send the tailor up to measure them? Send two Betas along – the tailor is a relative unknown.”

Part of me is pleased to see Victor taking such precautions, but another part knows it’s overkill. After all, he’s going to broadcast their faces to the nation tomorrow afternoon. Protecting them from a tailor seems to be protecting the mole hill and leaving the castle unguarded. Still, I don’t fight it and the Betas peel away, off to their tasks.

“And how is your outfit coming?” Victor says, leaning on the island, looking me up and down. Part of me wonders if he isn’t taking a little long with that look, and I smirk.

“My outfit?” I ask. “I’m just wearing my blue dress,” I shrug my left shoulder, not thinking it important. “I’ve had it dry cleaned, it should be good to go.”

“What?” Victor focuses his gaze on me, suddenly intense. “Your blue dress? You’re supposed to be in white.”

“Huh?” I peer back at him. “White? For what?” I’m just going to be standing in the background with everyone else – I don’t need to be in ceremonial white.

He spins to Amelia. “Amelia, what’s happening here? Why is Evelyn planning to wear blue?”

know,” she says, looking down at her clipboard. “She was told over a week ago to plan to wear white. She was sent several options

told anything about this. I don’t have a

course you’re part of this,” Victor says, frowning at me.

not signing

of his hand, “it’s important that we come across

head up from her clip board, her lips quirked in a nasty

pushing Victor to get

her face suddenly perfectly

me back, checking my urge to wipe her face clean with

she did it on purpose!”

whines, willing her mouth into a sorrowful pout. “I sent everything along! I swear

spreading his hands between

it is –“ I

dark glare. I settle down. “Is what we do next. Now, how soon can we get Evelyn an appropriate dress? The tailor is upstairs, surely

Amelia murmurs. I can hear the smugness in her voice. “It’s a Friday night – no one

her to bits in this moment. I don’t even want to wear white to this stupid ceremony,

“What are you doing?” Amelia calls after me, a little panic in her voice. I can hear Victor following me behind, his footsteps measured

in two fists worth of fine linen-and-lace tablecloth, an heirloom, I know – a gift from Amelia’s grandmother. As hard as I can, I yank it, sending crystal candlesticks cascading to the ground as the fabric yields

holds her back this

and I can hear the amusement in his voice. “It’s just a bit

“It’s my –“

overshadow her. “I’m going to need to get started right away.” I move past them, smug,

you sew, Evelyn?” Victor asks, genuinely

raised two toddlers alone on a graduate

laugh as I head out the back

to see that Edgar is sitting on my back porch, apparently waiting for me. I’m still

lap, making him laugh. “Welcome home, gorgeous,” he says, wrapping his arms around me and kissing my

see you,” I say, smiling and combing my fingers through his own lovely hair. “Any reason

smiles at me. “Just wanted to see you. What’s

white tomorrow, to the ceremony, and this was the only white fabric left in the house, so I’m

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