My cheeks feel like they’ve been set ablaze, and it has nothing to do with the sunlight dancing through the maple leaves.

Ruffles tickle my palms when I smooth a hand down my skirts. “What’s wrong with my dress?” This is the nicest one I packed. The nicest one I own.

Nia pulls me back toward the house. “Don’t listen to that jealous cow. She’s just angry because she doesn’t turn twenty-five until the end of June and all the men will be chasing after you instead.”

Rosehill is the largest city in the kingdom; surely there are more than enough eligible partners to go around without having to fight over them.

Men are hardly worth such fuss.

Nia and I hurry up the stairs, through a cramped foyer, and into the heart of my aunt and uncle’s home. To the right sits the living area with a floral sofa and a patterned rug. Bookshelves extend toward the plaster ceiling on either side of a barren stone fireplace.

If I follow the delicious scent of apples and cinnamon through the low door to my left, I bet I’ll find the kitchen.

Nia pauses at the base of a whitewashed staircase, assessing me once more while her fingers tap against her lips. “Although, we should probably find you something else to wear. Do you have anything without ruffles?”

“I’m not sure I do.” Apparently, ruffles were in fashion before my mother left Rosehill.

“Never mind. I have plenty of dresses you can borrow.”

Is she mad? “I would never fit into one of your dresses.” Not only is my chest three times the size of hers, but she’s also a head taller than me.

“Of course you will. We just have to find one that covers those.” She nods at my chest, then waggles her eyebrows. “I’m telling you, Kerris, by the time I’m finished with you, the whole city will know your name.”

2

“You’d be surprised by the number of life’s problems that can be solved with dessert and a new frock.”

A Seelie Guide to Happiness

Nia’s silk skirt clings to my hips and catches beneath my feet every time I try to step forward. Although, it’s not nearly as unappealing as her corset mashing my breasts together. “I cannot go out in public like this.” If the entire city is to know my name, I’d rather it be for my ruffles than for having my nipples on display.

Nia purses her lips, stacks of gowns and skirts and corsets piled on either side of where she sits on the bed. “If we hemmed it⁠—”

“The length is the least of my worries. My nipples are about to pop out.”

“I’ve been told men are quite fond of nipples.”

“Nia!”