"Pfft, I didn't even bother asking. No, these came from a patron," Myra said, turning just enough to let me see the sly smile on her lips as she scampered down the stairs to the dressing rooms. "I mentioned we needed something new for your scene, and he offered to help."
I thought of what DS Piper had said, that Beth's killer might have been a member of our audience, and I had to grab onto the railing to help myself down the stairs, my head spinning dizzily.
I'd told him too much, broken promises to Mr. Reddy about keeping the theater secret. And why? Because I'd known DS Piper was mixed blood, like me? It wasn't enough. What if I'd just guaranteed a station of policemen arriving on the theater's doorsteps? I opened my lips to whisper the words to Myra, all but having to chase her speedy steps through the hall, but then we reached the curtain of my dressing room.
A sudden waft of fresh, sweet fragrance floated to me as Myra flicked the curtain aside and stepped into my room. I followed after her, swallowing my confession and stopping still at the massive, overflowing vase of flowers on my dressing room table. The arrangement was so large it covered my entire mirror, and it was made up of sweet pink rose buds, bright narcissus, blooming branches, and drooping ferns.
"Yes. He sent that too," Myra said, words bubbling giddily. "With a card."
I spotted the card as soon as she mentioned it, the corner tucked under the vase—a lovely copper jug, with filigree and a sloping handle.
"You can read it after, come and see what he chose!" Myra urged.
But the little white card called to me more than any promise of a gown or jewels, as did the heavy, lush arrangement in the vase, as if someone had gathered an entire conservatory together to send me flowers. Myra huffed behind me as I pulled the card loose.
We've walked a park together once, but you were right in my neglect of flowers, little one.
- A lady's suitor
I blushed at the words on the heavy paper, so simple and polite. It was the most gentlemanly note I'd ever received from any patron.
"Hunter," I murmured.
"He likes you," Myra said softly. "I like him for you."
I pressed my lips together, leaning down and taking a long inhale of the bouquet. There were branches of juniper and pine in the mix too, and all together it smelled like springtime, a little bite of winter just clinging to the edges like frost. I liked Hunter too, but I couldn't shake the feeling he had a version of me in his head that I wouldn't be able to live up to.
"Let's see the dress then, I suppose."
"You sound as though you think it will be made of briars," Myra laughed, moving to my chaise. "Light all the candles and open the curtain."
Paper ripped in eager hisses, Myra's patience at an end, as I brightened the room as much as I was able, joining her on the cushions as she opened the first box. Deep, emerald green silk rested on powder pink tissue paper, and even in all her eagerness, Myra's fingers hesitated over the fabric.
"I'm afraid to touch it," she whispered with a soft giggle.
I found myself suddenly eager, lifting the bodice from the box and gasping as it almost slipped through my fingers, the fabric cool and as smooth as water.
"There's no boning," I said.
"And no bustle," she murmured. "Not fashionable, but oh, it is fine, isn't it?"
I stood, the soft draped shoulders of the dress in my hands, my eyes on the delicate embroidery of blossoming branches wrapping under the bust and around the hips.
"Monsters don't care about fashion, do they?" I said, smiling.
"Mm, not when a dress like that will reveal every bit of your lovely figure," Myra agreed with a firm nod. "Clever orc. And he's added stockings. The Gemini will appreciate that."
I shivered at the thought of Con's touch tracing down my legs as he removed the sheer delicate stockings, with briars and buds around my upper thighs. Usually, the company presented more urgent and carnal scenes, dresses torn away from girl's bodies rather than carefully removed.
I glanced down as Myra gasped and realized that while I'd been mooning over the dress, and the idea of Con and Antin removing it from my body, she'd opened the boxes of jewelry.
"Oh, well, this is curious," Myra said, tipping the necklace back and forth on its velvet bed.
"It's beautiful," I said, marveling at the brass branches that curled and the pink glittering petals and emerald enamel leaves.
"I suspect the Gemini was thinking something…a little more traditional," Myra mused. "These are very pretty, of course."
I suspected Myra herself might've been more in favor of large diamonds or rubies, or at least very good imitations of them, but I liked the necklace that looked like a wreath of glittering flowers. Orcs and nymphs had their homes and privacy in nature, and Hunter might not have known my origins, but he'd tied us together in his taste.
"Then the Gemini should've brought his own jewels. I'm wearing these," I said.
Myra flashed a bright smile up at me. "Smart girl. Please that orc, rather than the demon. He's the one that's going to make a difference for you, I'm sure of it."
I wanted her to be right. I almost even believed it. But I wondered if I was really what was best for Hunter. I liked him, and perhaps Myra was right and I even needed him, needed an escape from the company. But I hated to think of him as my meal ticket. He was too good for that.
"Try it on, lovey," Myra murmured, reaching up to squeeze my arm. "We need to be sure it fits you."
Would being Hunter's human mistress fit me? Or would it be like the theater, where I answered to one man's needs and ignored my own, ignored half of myself? Hunter wanted the human girl, a fine lady to fit the image of the gentleman he cultivated for himself. I was neither of those things. I didn't even know truly what I was, had never been offered the freedom to explore it. How could I find a place in the world for myself when I was always half in hiding?