Crysabel looked at the gown in wonder.
"Can I try it on?"
"Of course." Cal helped her friend out of her dress, then put the gown on her, gave her the gloves.
Crysabel looked in the mirror.
"It's like I'm in one of those fairy tales." She touched her reflection.
"You'll set the ball on fire, and no leaving at midnight." Cal pulled out a roll of paper and flattened it on the table. "Sit and I'll draw your portrait."
"Now? But my eyes are all red."
"I won't draw your red eyes."
Crysabel sat in the chair with the grace Cal had seen in her from their first meeting. Her hair looked gold in the soft light. She looked young and vulnerable, but her eyes were determined.
As with Lord Carroway, Cal took her time, looking beneath the surface. Cal had a better idea of what she was doing and she put all her talent to work creating a portrait to speak for her.
When she'd finished, Cal treated the paper with the varnish, then called Crysabel over to look at it.