5:00 p.m., the sun is lazy as melted caramel
Szell was leaning on the balustrade of the villa's second-floor terrace, fingertips unconsciously rubbing the silver key, when he suddenly heard three restrained knocks on the door from downstairs - as elegant as someone tapping a crystal glass with a silver spoon.
Robert Wilson was standing at the bottom of the steps when he pushed open the carved oak door. The setting sun traced gold edges to his gray temples, that morning ticket inspector's uniform had been replaced by a tuxedo, and the chain of his pocket watch on hischest swayed slightly with his breath. His motion to remove his hat and salute brought up a scent of cedar mixed with leather.
"Ms. Szell, the dinner will begin at six-thirty." His voice was more mellow than the morning, like aged port wine, "It is an honor to serve as your exclusive coachman for the evening."
Simone noticed that he had changed his ring for a new one - a silver trefoil embedded in an onyx base, glowing coldly in the twilight light. When she frowned slightly, Robert immediately understood:
"Oops! It seems your butler has been too negligent." He tapped his forehead in annoyance, the motion revealing the cuffs of his shirt embroidered with gold thread, "I can't believe I haven't prepared a dinner dress for you yet? But rest assured, the 'Silver Stud Tailor's Shop' will be able to make it in time for you."
"I prefer a style that is on the western side." Siwei pondered for a moment, "Preferably a dark jacquard fabric, and the skirt doesn't need to be too exaggerated. Shoes...Roman style lace-up sandals."
Robert's eyes lit up, "You really have good taste. Thirty years ago there was a countess who favored this kind of matching-" he suddenly silenced his voice as if he had violated some kind of taboo, "I'll make the arrangements. A maid will bring the clothes at six o'clock sharp, and the carriage is waiting in the rose garden."
As he took two steps backward and prepared to leave, Simone suddenly realized that his shadow was much thinner than his body, as if pulled by invisible hands. But when she blinked, the anomaly had vanished.
The bell of six o'clock had just come from the direction of the town hall when the villa doorbell rang a clear melody. Three lace-hooded maids filed in holding gilt trays, their movements as neat as dolls manipulated by the same silk strings.
"Allow us to dress you, my lady."
The maiden at the head of the group unrolled the silk covering cloth from the first tray. The unfurled gown flowed with a dark silver sheen in the twilight - a plain champagne color from a distance, but it was only up close that the fabric was woven with a fine clover dark pattern. When Szell touched the hem of the skirt, those patterns actually curled slightly like real plants.
"This is woven with moonlight silk." The maid whispered as she tied her waistband, "Each thread is soaked in the dew of the night rose."
In the second tray was a pair of Roman-style sandals. The extremely softly tanned lambskin had a grapevine pattern woven into it with gold thread, and the heel was set with a sapphireof the same type as the Szell Key. The most amazing thing was that when Szass slipped them on, the laces automatically wrapped around the ankles, adjusting to the most comfortable elasticity.
"The mirror is this way, Miss."
The third maid lifted the flannel over the floor mirror. The frame of the mirror was in the shape of entwined silver vines, with tiny crystal lily of the valley adorned between the vines. When Szell stood in front of the mirror, she could barely recognize the person in the mirror - the high waist of the gown outlined a graceful figure, and the exposed lines of her shoulders and neck were like fine ivory in the candlelight. The maids were putting on the last of her jewelry: a silver chain with a sapphire pendant that mirrored the key at her waist.
"And this." The head maid took out the crystal vial and dabbed two drops of perfume behind her ear, "The essence of the eternal rose, to be used only for the most honored guests."
The moment the aroma filled the air, Simone saw herself blinking in the mirror as if in a trance. But when she settled down to take a closer look, the mirror only reflected the decent smiles of the maids.
"Ms. Sesshoumaru." The motion of him taking off his hat and saluting brought up a breeze, revealing the silver stud hidden in his left ear, "The dinner at the Town Hall starts at six-thirty, and tonight I will be your exclusive..."
His voice suddenly stopped. Sifu followed his gaze and looked down, realizing that his morning civilian clothes had somehow transformed into a dark red gown - the open-chested design revealing a delicate collarbone, the black lace spreading into a thorn pattern on the snow-white skin, and the layered tulle skirt rippling in blood-mist-like waves with the movement.
"It would seem..." the knot in Robert's throat rolled and he reattached his perfect smile, "that your maid is more attentive than I expected."
Szell stroked the silver key at her waist. She distinctly remembered wearing a champagne-colored gown.
"It's just the shoes..." she had just spoken when Robert had removed a black velvet box from his arms. Inside the box lay a pair of Roman-style sandals, and on the black leather, which was tanned to an extremely soft finish, an umbrella pattern of poisonous flies embroidered in gold thread was brightening and flickering with each breath. Even more eerily, as she slipped them on, the sapphire at the heel suddenly oozed a dark red liquid, staining the gold thread with a blood-like pattern.