Night came, and after dinner, I retreated to the backroom of my store to work on a dark burgundy wedding gown for a local girl, one that I could later adjust just a bit so she could wear it to other important events. My mother always insisted work like this was important, doing affordable dresses for local girls, since they were the ones that had their ear to the ground and could be important assets if there ever rose a time where many hands were needed.

And it was the local girls in Evergreen that helped me arrange my mother’s funeral, as it was also the local girls that helped my family move to our new home here.

As I was bent over the neckline, doing the delicate stitching there in a black thread that caught the light and sparkled, I heard screaming coming from upstairs.

I stilled, listening.

It was blood curdling, but happy, so I returned to working, focusing on my work.

A pair of hurried, heavy footsteps that could only belong to my two younger sisters came thudding down the stairs to the hat store, but I tried to ignore the loud voices so I could finish my project tonight, since I was making good timing already. I had to go and collect a new shipment of fabric shortly and if I finished my work tonight on this, then I’d have time to look around the port city and see if there was any good deals-

“The Prince is going to be passing through the town next to ours!” I heard Anna scream in my stepmother’s store, “He’s going to Blairestone to have a wardrobe made for his upcoming birthday ball!”

I scowled, my gaze lifting to stare at the sketches I had pinned to my wall.

Blairestone.

While there was a tailor in every village and town between here and the capitol where the royal family lived, Blairestone was the nearest one to me that could rival my own skill. I had gone to him when I was sixteen for an apprenticeship to sharpen the skills I had already developed, but the old man had laughed me out and if anything had changed since then, his opinion of me had only fallen.

He had plenty of words about the trends I followed or ignored, but I had plenty more words about his inability to communicate with his customers and stubbornness to bend to those that were paying for his service.

Not that I would ever say those words, since his poor communication skills is exactly why I had so many of his old customers.

He was the reason I was able to afford to buy the shop that was now my stepmother’s hat shop, after all.

I was pulled from my thoughts as my sisters began to talk about how they would arrange to cross paths with the prince and I sighed, straightening to set my things aside to stand and stretch. I rubbed at my back as I walked toward the doors that separated my shop from my stepmother’s store, preparing for the fallout from my sisters hearing the word ‘no.’

“-you are far too fat, Anna!” Celia screaming shrilly as I entered the store, Anna gasping audibly like she had been slapped. “Besides, you're to tall! It would look ridiculous on you! The proportions would be all off!”

“And you have no breasts, Celia!” Anna shot back, Celia gasping even louder and looking to their mother as she glanced up with an amused look from where she was putting together a hat at her work table, her puffy sleeves tied up at her shoulders. Anna’s eyes narrowed before she caught sight of me coming in, the sour look on her face disappearing gin an instant as she rushed over to me. “Elliot! Tell Celia that I get to wear your mother’s dress! Tell her she’s to young!” She said, throwing our sister a look. “You’re too young!” Anna hissed at her sister, Celia rushing over to cry and pull on my other arm.

“Elliot, tell Anna that the waist would have to be let out for her big arse!”

“Celia!” My stepmother gasped, Celia’s mouth clamping shut before he stomped her little foot and yanked on my arm hard.

I sighed, shaking my head a little at their antics, the latest in an endless parade of long days with my beloved but tiring sisters.

My mother’s dress.

The one truly high quality, high fashion dress my sisters possessed.

I had gifted it to them to share when we had to downsize here after they had to give so much of their own things away – all their gowns, all their toys, all their precious things - and since then, my stepmother kept it locked in a trunk with my mother’s silk slippers and her wedding veil.

The only condition I had for them wearing it was that they both had to agree on who would wear it, as the dress was meant to be shared between them, my mother having no daughters to pass it on to but having desperately wanted one to have worn it. It had been designed as something that could have been worn as a wedding dress or as a ball gown, it’s color my mother’s favorite vibrant blue.

Blue was the color of my childhood.

The walls of our home had blue in it, the furniture and everything my mother wore, but the sky had always been blue for far longer than it usually was, a blessing from a fairy on the king’s wedding day that ended when his bride passed.

So far, neither of my sisters had been willing to allow the other to wear any part of it, which was disappointing. They were both young ladies now – Anna twenty and Celia fifteen - and at least twice a year, they went to a ball that would very well warrant the gown being worn, but alas.

I longed for the day when my sisters were mature enough to share and act their age, but until then, I had to be the villain to save them from ruining what little good name we were left by my father.

“Neither of you are going to see the prince,” I said then, Anna slowly looked back to me with an incredibly annoyed look, her eyes narrowed and lip slowly curling. I fixed her with a hard stare. “You will not track down the prince and embarrass yourselves – you will stay home and help your mother prepare for the orders for the upcoming horse races. This is her busiest time of the year, and you should be busy helping her.” I said firmly, my stepmother lifting her chin a little with a cool look directing as her daughters, nodding a little.

My stepmother would never discipline her daughters and was far to permissive with them, something I knew was a result from having a constantly disapproving mother of her own, but I knew she agreed with me. If she didn’t, she would have made her opinion well known.

But her silence spoke volumes, and when Anna looked to her with a shocked look, my stepmother lowered her gaze to the bonnet she was working on and pointedly stabbed a feather into it.

Anna’s reaction was instant. Her face went red but she kept her lips tightly together, very well knowing I didn’t accept arguing during the rare instance I made an order. As long as they didn’t interfere with our businesses or risk harming themselves or our family, I let my sisters be as silly was they wanted, but when I brought down the fist, they were to fall in line.

Anna pulled away from me, gave me a scathing look, and then stormed upstairs.

I expected the same from Celia, who copied everything Anna did right down to the curls in her hair and the one beauty mark she penciled onto her face every morning.

And so I did not expect Celia to burst into tears.

I was caught off guard and looked to her mother, who stood from her stool and came around her work table in a panicked hurry to embrace Celia, rubbing her back and telling her that there will be other princes to hunt down, but that only made Celia cry harder.

“This might be our only chance to be safe!” Celia sobbed, and I frowned, turning to look fully down to her as she cried in her mother’s arms. She looked to me then, angry and upset, but mostly panicked. “What will happen to us if you die like Papa?! He passed, and we lost everything – our home, our clothing, our toys - our pets! All of it went away and we came here, and if you die, we will lose what little we have now! But if one of us marries the prince, we’ll be taken care of for life, just like the Duchess of Silvercreek, who has been married and divorced three times and only keeps getting richer!”

“Celia, you’ll be taken care of if anything happens to me.” I said gently but firmly.

She wasn’t having it though, crying harder. “By whom?!” She demanded. “By our rotten cousin, who took advantage of you?!” She asked shrilly.

“He didn’t’ take-”

“Elliot!” She shouted angrily, stomping her foot as her mother rocked her in an attempt to sooth her, “Everyone knows he is likely your own father, but all he did when Papa died was push you out of your family home when he very well could have afforded to support us until you got back on your feet!”

My eyebrows raised and I looked to my stepmother, whose lips thinned and gaze averted before her began to cry as well, covering her face with her hand as she patted Celia’s back with the other. It seemed the girls had heard a lot more of my family’s gossip than I had hoped for.

Lord knows it wasn’t something that I ever wanted to think about, especially after father died and my cousin...had not presented me with many options. In fact, he didn’t present me with any options.

I had to beg.

I was grateful for what I was given though, and so I had nothing to complain about.

But no, I would not forget his unkindness.

I looked back to Celia’s tear stricken face then and shook my head.