Free The Conspiracy of Us by Maggie Hall Page A

me, “but you are not a regular guest at the family’s events, am I right?”
    I shook my head.
    Aimee lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Tell us. Who are they? We could never ask Madame Dauphin. Are they only rich, or diplomats, or—?”
    â€œAimee!” said Elisa, and I pressed my mouth closed. Even if I knew their whole story, I had a feeling I shouldn’t respond to that kind of question. It did make me wonder, though. If the Dauphins were in French politics, Aimee and Elisa would know it.
    â€œWhat dresses are we trying on?” I said, and the questions were over.
    Soon, they were slipping gowns on and off me like I was a doll. Gowns that were as much art as clothing. There was a red-feathered dress that was pretty, but shaped weirdly in the hips, and a stiff, architectural cobalt gown Aimee loved.
    One dress was black and modern, and a white one with a full skirt was gorgeous but could have been a wedding dress. Elisa was partial to a gray shift, but the top was too sheer, and another dress was short and pink and looked too eighties.
    All of them were amazing pieces, but it felt like I was just playing dress-up until Elisa lowered a burnished silver gown over my head.
    The dress looked like a glittering stormy night. I pushed my hair off my shoulders to see its delicate, sheer straps, which blended into shimmering raw silk that crossed my chest, then hugged close to my hips. I turned to see the back, open to my waist in a deep V. A small train swished behind my feet.
    All of a sudden, I felt like I should be going to a ball.
    Elisa giggled, and I realized my mouth was hanging open.
    â€œYou like it?”
    I nodded. I couldn’t find any words.
    â€œWe’ll keep it aside, then,” said Aimee.
    They lifted the silver dress off me, and I fought the urge to touch it as Elisa hung it on the opposite wall. The next dress was flashier than what I’d usually choose—gold, covered in intricate beadwork and sequins—and I barely paid attention to it at first. I couldn’t take my eyes off the silver dress. But when they slipped it over my head and the light hit me in the mirror, Elisa gasped out loud. I glowed.
    The dress was nothing like the silver one. If that one had been storms, this was sunlight. It glowed against my dark hair, and hugged my body all the way down, from the plunging halter neckline to the flouncy mermaid hem. I ran my hands over my hips, and my reflection glittered.
    Aimee had been prepping a pink dress with a lace bodice, but she put it back on the hanger. “The gold one. Or the silver. We do not need to try more, no?”
    I glanced at myself in the mirror, then at the silver dress again. I shook my head.
    Elisa led me to a three-way mirror, where a girl who hardly looked like me stared back in triplicate. They changed me into the silver dress and the girl in the mirror looked more serious, more elegant, then the gold again, and she was glamorous, striking. I pictured myself dancing in both dresses, because that’s what you did at a ball, right? Dancing, laughing with the people I’d meet soon. Being introduced as part of the family.
    Toska.
The word echoed in my head. A change. In who I was, in how I saw myself. Filling that ache that never quite left my chest.
    I found myself hoping fiercely that my mom would let me stay for the ball, and even a little longer. Meet the Saxons, find out more about my father’s family and the rest of the Circle. To feel like I belonged in this strange, fascinating world. To feel like I belonged anywhere, just for a second.
    â€œYou have to choose eventually.” Elisa smiled. In the mirror, the sequins shimmered.
    The gold dress was perfect for my body type, Elisa said, and I had to admit it was dazzling. But there was something about the silver. It belonged on me. The silver felt right.
    Aimee was grinning as big as I was. She unzipped the gold dress and left me to get out of it, following