"We? You mean you," I exclaim, rolling my eyes just as the worker bows her head and turns to the King.
"How can I help you?"
I let Leo do the talking as he explains he needs me in a beautiful dress for a ball, one that sweeps the floor and is fit for a Queen. The Queen comment makes my jaw clench, wanting to punch him in the face, but it's a common term for someone wanting a dress to top all the others.
For ten minutes the woman goes over the different fabrics and lengths, Leo listening as I stare out the window to see teenage girls passing bye, whispering as they point. I can't believe I would have been one of these girls, only I knew age difference at that age.
Hell, how old is Leo anyway? I'm betting he told me one night, but I don't recall his age at all. Sure, I'm legal at the age
