Examining the garment she’d given me, I realized I simply had to shrug it on like a coat. It wrapped around the front and closed not with frogs or buttons, but with a belt, the belt being the metal band.
The material was quite soft and I could tell it was excellent quality. It was also a sumptuous cream, a color I’d never worn, but it seemed to highlight the natural olive tone of my skin, not to mention deepen the color of my hair and bring out the same in my eyes.
All this was fine.
What was slightly concerning was the fact that the hem was uneven. One edge of the coat-like dress hung longer than the other, which aesthetically was quite pleasing, but it still seemed to be a mistake in construction.
This I could live with because everyone knew, if something was aesthetically pleasing, that was all that mattered.
What was most concerning was the location of the hem, this being at my upper thigh.
Yes.
My upper thigh.
Everything beyond was exposed.
Bare.
I could be risqué. I could even take that to extremes. In fact, there was a time I enjoyed taking it to extremes and reveling in the reactions that would get. And I had not been out in society for some months but I had a feeling that was a part of me that had not changed.
But this was outlandish.
Indeed, there was a good possibility that when I walked, the flaps of the short coatdress would fan out and show everything.
A woman had to have some mystery, most assuredly. That mystery particularly.
And this could not be so different in the other world. If that was the case, surely Valentine or Noc would have told me.
Even generally, I was not a woman to hide her charms. Because of this, the plunging neckline of the long-sleeved dress did not concern me. And I was not a woman who had a problem with adding flair. Therefore, the peculiar belt that seemed made of shiny gold I liked quite a lot.
But I had never in my life exposed my legs as such to anyone but a lover.
And this did not get into the shoes.
They were like Josette’s in the sense that they, too, were constructed of a very small number of straps (precisely, three). One across the toes that was somewhat wide. Two that came up from the sides of the heel and wrapped around my ankle, those being exceptionally dainty.
They were also shiny gold, which was lovely.
But the heel included a golden spike at the bottom back that was elegant to gaze upon, but it had to be at least four inches tall, therefore standing upon them forced me to my toes.
Needless to say, walking was nigh on impossible.
However, it explained Noc’s statement about “spiked heels” from many months before.
Indeed it explained it literally.
One could not deny (and I myself had admired just this in the full-length mirror) that the dress did wonderful things for my figure and the shoes did miraculous things to my legs (and bum).
But what would Noc think of me, seeing me in such attire?
And what would he think when I took one step toward him and fell flat on my face?
“How are you going to walk on those shoes?” Josette cried my thoughts out loud, injecting a goodly dose of the concern I myself felt in each word.
“Carefully,” I answered.
“I can imagine,” Josette muttered, still staring at the shoes. “Though, they’re very pretty. But I can’t imagine other-world women walk about on them much. Instead, they must sit and have them gazed upon admiringly, don’t you think?”
What I thought was, to get to any seat one had to walk on them. So although I very much wanted off my feet at that moment, I, and any woman wearing such footwear, was out of luck when the necessity arose to ambulate.
“Do tell me you’ve practiced walking, Franka,” Valentine said. “We’re set to leave soon. Noc is already at your appointed meeting place, waiting.”
My body jolted because my heart leaped so at her words I feared it had torn right out of my chest.
“I’ve practiced,” I replied and took a step, then another to show her.
I’d gotten quite good at balancing while standing. And I was becoming adept at slow steps.
A natural gait would take some doing. Much longer than the time I had.
It might take days.
Or weeks.
Though I would prefer to wear what I was used to, superb quality slippers, and not wear those kind of shoes at all.
Suffice it to say, for myself and for Josette, we should have requested other-world garments and footwear some time ago so we could become accustomed to them.
It was too late for that now.
“Well, practice some more,” Valentine ordered. “I’m taking Josette and I’ll come back for you.”
“What?” Josette asked on a whirl from facing me to doing the same with Valentine.
“I beg your pardon?” I queried on narrowed eyes.
“I’m taking Josette to my home. She can settle in. I’ll come back for you as you’ll be going somewhere else and at that somewhere else, Noc wants only you,” Valentine replied.
Noc wanted only me.
My belly clenched.
“No offense, chérie,” she said to Josette. “But you’re not invited to their reunion.”
“That’s quite all right!” Josette chirped, no longer showing concern we’d be separated upon entry to this parallel universe and turning bright eyes to me.
“Circe is coming around to take Josette out to dinner,” Valentine carried on. “This while I finish up some of my own business here and make my final return home. Then, of course, I’ll be around should she need anything.”
I wanted to see Noc. I wanted to see a Noc that didn’t invite Josette to our “reunion.” I missed him and had been waiting for months to see him again and now that wait was over.