I feel uncomfortable. “I didn’t do it so they would feel grateful toward me.”
A smile blooms on the older woman’s lips, and she says nothing further. I see her glance over her shoulder momentarily, and then she turns her attention back to me. “Green is really your color. If you have a favorite, though, I can ask the designer to make a dress in that color.”
I stare at my image, remembering. “Princess Vivian liked the color purple.”
Harriet’s expression changes. “I’m not asking about the Princess, Miss Leanna. I want to know what you like.”
I meet her gaze in the mirror. “I’m supposed to like what the princess likes.”
I see the strain in her eyes, and I expect her to give up the topic, but she presses. “There must be some color that you have a preference for.”
I feel a strange emptines
