Chapter 9 - THE REMOVAL OF STITCHES
The following morning, the atmosphere in Calder House was noticeably different.
The underlying tension that had hung over the estate like a heavy fog for nine months was entirely gone. The staff moved about their duties with lighter steps, and even the strict security guards seemed more relaxed.
At ten in the morning, Dr. Aris returned to remove my stitches.
I sat in the morning room, the soft sunlight pouring through the tall windows as Dr. Aris carefully snippeted the tiny black threads with small silver scissors. Julian stood nearby, leaning against the fireplace mantle, watching her every move with hawkish precision.
"Stop hovering, Julian," Dr. Aris snapped good-naturedly as she pulled the final thread free. "I've been a surgeon for thirty years. I know how to pull a stitch without cutting her face off."
Julian gave a faint, rare smile. "Just making sure, Doctor."
"There," Dr. Aris said, wiping my cheek with a cool antiseptic wipe. She held up a small hand mirror for me. "Take a look."
I looked into the glass. Where the deep, jagged cut had been a week ago, there was now only a tiny, paper-thin pink line running across my cheekbone. It was barely noticeable, fading quickly into my pale skin.
"It will be completely invisible in a few months," Dr. Aris promised, packing her medical tools away. "You have great skin, child. It heals remarkably fast."
"Thank you, Dr. Aris," I said, smiling warmly at her.
After Dr. Aris left, Julian walked over and offered me his hand. "Come with me. My mother wants to see you in the main salon."
I took his hand, permitting him to lead me down the grand hallway. Over the past twenty-four hours, holding his hand had become as natural as breathing.
When we entered the main salon, I stopped dead in my tracks.
Vivian was sitting on one of the silk sofas, surrounded by several stacks of heavy velvet boxes, three tailors, and a woman holding a large leather-bound book.
"Ah! There she is!" Vivian cheered, clapping her hands together delightfully. "Emma, come here! We have so much work to do!"
"Work?" I asked, looking bewildered at Julian. He merely offered an innocent shrug, though his eyes sparkled with mischief.
"The Summer Gala is in three weeks, my dear," Vivian explained, waving a hand toward the tailors. "It's the most important charity event of the season. And as my official companion—and Julian's guest—you will need a gown that outshines every woman in Manhattan."
My jaw dropped slightly. "Vivian, no... I can't go to the Summer Gala. That's for high society—"
"You are high society now, child," Vivian interrupted firmly, her eyes glittering with affection. "Or did you think my son was going to let you hide in the library forever?"
I turned to look at Julian. He walked up behind me, resting his hands lightly on my shoulders, leaning down to speak softly in my ear.
"I've already reserved the red sapphire necklace from the vault for you," he whispered, his warm breath tickling my skin. "It matches your eyes when you're angry."
May you like
"Julian..." I murmured, blushing furiously as the tailors giggled softly.
"You took a hit for this family, Emma," Julian said, his hands squeezing my shoulders reassuringly. "Now it's time the rest of New York sees who rules this house beside me."
