Vampyre Bride ✔️

XXI⎮Woman In The Red Dress

"But my birthday's not till tomorrow." Nonetheless she was exceedingly delighted, stroking the large, crimson bow reverently.

"One might argue that you have every right to celebrate two birthdays this year, Emma."

"True," she conceded. Midsummer did not, after all, fall annually on the same day. And rarely at all on her date of birth. Without further ado, Emma pulled the riband free of the pretty fastening and lifted the top half of the box away from its partner. With a worshipful gasp she ran her fingers gently over the blond satin and deep carmine velvet within. "A gown!" she whispered, pulling it out to hold it against her bosom. "However did you afford such an exquisite piece?"

Thoroughly enjoying her sister's reverent awe, Milli beamed. "My aunt and uncle contributed very generously; I was left only to design and stitch it." Then, with a naughty wink, said, "And since there was a surplus of fabric to make myself a jacket, I took the liberty of doing so."

"My sister the mantua maker." She embraced Milli and kissed her affectionately on each cheek. "It is the most beautiful ball gown I have ever seen."

"And you will be the loveliest woman at the ball tonight." Her eyes instantly glazed over with whimsy. "Oh! Emma, wait till you see what has been done to transform the old keep. I am almost glad of your keeping upstairs this whole time, for there are such sights to be seen, and I am all expectation of bearing witness to the amazement on your face tonight when you first behold it." Milli then glanced at her watch and declared that it was high time they got themselves ready. "And Victoria mentioned, when I showed her your gown, that she has the perfect Venetian mask to go with your ensemble."

"Mask?"

"For the masquerade tonight, you goosecap." Milli clucked her tongue.

"Ah yes." Emma had clean forgot the Midsummer Ball was to be a bals masqués. Now why did that send a shiver down her nape.

If she thought she was to spend the rest of her afternoon in solitude, she much mistook the determined gleam in her sister's eye. Milli was of the opinion that there was not enough time between now and dusk to do all that she wished to do to improve her sister's toilette. And she was entrusting none of it to Emma. Emma who preferred simplicity and elegance to ostentatious headdresses and colorful confections.

"I hope you won't turn me into a some or other feathered beast?" she said shuddering at the thought of wild plumage, heavy frills, and fruity headdresses.

"No, silly! you're to be a sleek cat tonight. I wouldn't dream of having my sister look like an exotic mess of feathers and fruit. I want you to be the very belle of the ball."

"This is not a demmed fairytale, Milli." But she was pleased that her sister would adhere to her partialities, bland as she likely found them. And the dress did look both gorgeous and elegant, if a bit more sumptuous than what ordinarily suited Emma's palate.

"Ah but it could very well be a fairytale," she persisted, ignoring Emma's demurrals. She would have her way, and would not be overruled. "And will you nill you, I have declared myself your fairy godmother."

"You know I cannot resist you when you quote Shakespeare."

"I know that literature is always apt to bend your will to mine," Milli said, looking pleased with herself.

Emma's mouth therewith pursed in feigned displeasure. "Unless of course you're implying that I'm the shrew to be tamed?"

"Not a bit of it!" At which point both sisters burst into laughter.

More wine was ordered directly, and Milli's gown was promptly fetched in from her chamber, so that the sisters could ready themselves in the company of the other. Surprisingly, Emma found herself becoming increasingly excited by the prospect of a dance and a ball, her sister's enthusiasm having clearly rubbed itself off on her, notwithstanding her own stubborn will to the contrary.