I held up the dress to my mirror and stared in disbelief. Shocking blue swirls of dyed thread wove seamlessly into a pristine white bodice, folds of soft fabric flared out along the sleeves into a beautiful drift of cloud-like lace. Above the low-cut collar, a web of ribbons held a single flat gemstone--sapphire, nearly the size of my hand--over what would be my heart.
This dress could fund a small army.
At the bottom of the box, another note waited for me. I laid the dress gingerly on my bed and opened the letter.
'Eve,' the message began, 'My apologies for the late delivery, some things are difficult to arrange while in exile. The enclosed outfit is for you. I had to take some liberties with the sizing, but I've been assured by several tailors that it can be adjusted with relative ease. If you would wear it tonight, I would have you on my arm at the ball. For you made this possible, and I haven't forgotten my promise. With undying admiration, Crown Prince Leon.'