Andria's POV
It was Friday in no distant time. It felt like the days understood my need for release and hastened their pace.
The day's activities fled, and soon it was night.
I stood in front of my mirror for the tenth time, tugging the hem of the champagne-colored dress Lady Eskareth had chosen.
It shimmered softly under the warm lights, hugging my waist before flaring out playfully above my knees.
The back dipped low, exposing my spine, and I felt both daring and nervous.
"You look like trouble," I murmured to my reflection.
"It's almost 9 o'clock pm, you are already 30 minutes late," Lady Eskareth called out from behind the door.
"I'll be out in a jiffy. I just want to make sure I look ok," I replied.
"Hurry up. I have to do some finishing touch-up for you," she said.
"Don't bother about it," I answered nervously.
I didn't want her to turn me into a completely different person or make me overdressed for the occasion.
