60
Dalia's POV
I picked at my nails that had just gotten a fresh French manicure. Faye had helped me with my make up, my eyeshadow was dark to bring out my brown eyes and I had on some nude dark brown lipstick, nothing too bold. My hair was held in a curly bun at the top of my head and my bags fell softly on my forehead, framing my soft features.
"Isn't he supposed to give me a dress?" I mumbled mostly to myself, getting ready to leave this room and barge into Vittore's for my gown.
"Patience darling, you'll get nowhere if you're this rushed," Faye said from her spot on my bed.
"I'm not impatient I'm just worried, nervous and very restless," I mumbled. I had no idea what Vittore was going to put me in. Leather? Maybe. I'd look sexy in that at least.
"My son does things with precision. It can sometimes be off putting-"
"Sometimes?" I cut Faye off with a snort but she still continued.
"-but... he always pulls through."