The letter to Stellara was three sentences long.
Katarina had drafted it in twelve minutes and spent two hours editing it down from a page and a half, because the first version had too much justification and not enough confidence, and people like Stellara Brevaine could smell insecurity the way sharks smelled blood.
The reply came in two days: dinner at the Brevaine estate, Saturday evening, formal.
"Formal means I have to wear something nice, doesn't it," Katarina said.
"Formal means you have to wear something expensive," Seris corrected, already pulling dresses from the wardrobe.
She held up a deep violet dress with a neckline that would show half of Katarina's chest and most of her back.
"This one."
"That's not a dress, that's a suggestion of a dress."
