A woman had come out of the back. Tiny, round face, kind eyes, white-brillo pad hair.

RJ sighed. “I don’t know. I’m looking for a gown.”

“For the upcoming Rosendans?”

“Actually, for…I’m getting married this afternoon.”

To say the words aloud sent a chill through her. “What —”

“Oh. A bride.” The woman came up to her. “Then you need a dress from the back.”

She led RJ around the corner to a smaller alcove. The back appeared to be living quarters, through a narrow door. Here, in the antechamber, a number of party masks, with feathers and sequins lay on an ancient table, a standing mirror in the middle. Other baubles—necklaces, bracelets, rings—spilled out of containers onto the table.

But on a rack against the wall hung a handful of off-white gowns. “Donated by our local brides over the years.”

The front bell jangled, and the storekeeper left to greet her new customer.

RJ looked through them. Pretty enough—some satin with plunging necklines—she wasn’t sure she could pull that off. One with a simple bodice, a chiffon skirt. A mermaid dress in sequins.

None that felt like…her.

She stood in front of a gilded oval mirror, trying to decide what was…her. Her dark hair was down, her face plain—all her makeup had burned in the fire. She wore a pair of jeans, runners and tee-shirt.

She could probably get married in a burlap sack for all the flair she had.

“Did you try the box?” said a voice.

She turned and followed the shopkeeper’s gesture to a blue box on the floor. “You never know what you’ll find until you open the box.”

Funny. But RJ leaned down and lifted the cover.

Oh. My. Inside lay a pale gold tulle evening gown. Sleeveless, with straps covered with pink and gold sequins.

She pulled it out. The bodice was heavily embellished with shimmering pink and purple sequins amidst swirling vines of metallic copper gilt threadwork that ran vertically down the bodice to a wide waist panel and flowing floor length skirt. The skirt itself was made of two layers of tulle over a peach underskirt.

Clusters of frosted white pearls and beads accented the sweetheart neckline.

“It looks like you have found a dress by Taffron Bjork.”

“Who?”

The woman came up to her. “Taffron was a dress designer whose gowns were worn by royalty. Specifically, three of our princesses. Princess Louisa, Princess Catherine, who is our current Queen, and Princess Daffy, Prince Gus’s wife. He died years ago, but the rumor has it that he made numerous other gowns which were never found.” She touched the dress almost reverently. “It is said that his dresses were designed by God, to be worn only for the right woman, someone who would be blessed with something magical.”

She met RJ’s eyes. “Clearly, this dress is meant for you.”