Chapter 11: The Dance She Chose

The invitation came with a gown, a necklace, and instructions for my hair.

Corwin displayed the necklace across our kitchen table.

Deborah moved it away from the butter.

"Are we supposed to send something back?" she asked.

"Her appearance will express her gratitude," he said.

I looked at the hair instructions.

They required a person described as an attendant to remain behind me all evening.

"Will she enjoy the dance?" I asked.

"Her enjoyment isn't relevant."

Deborah folded the instructions.

"Then neither is ours."

She handed him the gown.

He tried giving it to me instead.

I handed him the necklace.

Bram came in carrying a basket of folded laundry.

Corwin looked relieved to see a man.

Then Bram put his clean socks on top of the gown.

"If we're returning things," my uncle said, "these aren't mine."

I laughed so hard I had to sit down.

Corwin removed the socks one at a time.

He explained that the gifts were intended as honors.

"An honor ought to fit," I told him.

The gown had been chosen without asking my size.

That hadn't stopped the hair instructions from being very specific.

I returned everything except the invitation.

"I'd like to dance," I said.

"I have a dress."

At the palace that evening, Sabine met me by the stairs.

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