Chapter 67 Fitting
The next morning arrived far too quickly. Deborah woke up with the faint ache of last night’s chaos still clinging to her chest, but the Valmere household moved like nothing ever wavered. Another event was ahead.... another of devereaux’s formal gatherings, and they needed new suits, new gowns, and a sharper look than ever. This time, this is not the devereaux global summit but required a different palette, one meticulously planned and tailored.
Their convoy arrived at one of the most luxurious private boutiques in the city. The windows shimmered with crystal lighting, and rows of gowns, from soft pastels to bold velvet reds, lined the display like royalty.
As soon as they stepped inside, organizers and stylists greeted them in a flurry.
“Good morning, Valmere Mr. And Ms. Valmere. We’ve prepared all the possible selections you may want to see today.”
Lysander stretched his arms dramatically. “Alright, let’s get this over with. I want something timeless, not something that makes me look like an old senator.”
Knight snorted. “Bro, you already act like an old senator.”
“You’re both dramatic,” Caelum muttered, examining shelf after shelf of accessories.
The head stylist approached with a clipboard. “For this next event, it says there that we should wear something.... luminous elegance. You can go for metallics, soft ivory, icy blue, deep emerald, or anything with refined shimmer.”
Aston tapped the fabric of a deep navy suit. “I think this could work for me. Slim cut, clean stitching. Tailor, can you check the fit on the shoulders?”
The tailor hurried over and took measurements, nodding with approval. “This will accentuate your frame perfectly, sir. We can add silver thread on the edges for the theme.”
Aston smirked. “Perfect. Make me look like a billionaire who knows he looks good.”
Lysander raised an eyebrow. “As if you need help with that.”
While the boys argued, Deborah moved quietly toward the gown section. Rows of satin and chiffon cascaded like waterfalls. A team of assistants followed her closely.
“For you, Miss Valmere,” one stylist said, presenting a rack of gowns. “We prepared silhouettes that match your posture.... A-line, fitted, mermaid cut, and flowing back capes.”
Deborah ran her fingers across a champagne-colored gown. “This one is pretty… but I think it feels too soft for the event.”
One of the organizers stepped forward. “Something bolder, perhaps? A structured bodice? A deeper color?”
“I think she’d look stunning in emerald,” Aldric commented from behind her, arms crossed as he evaluated the rack. “Green fits the theme and it fits her aura.”
Caelum shook his head. “No. Red. A deep one. Something that makes a statement.”
Knight chimed in, “I think silver would suit her better. Clean. Striking.”
The tailor sighed, overwhelmed. “Everyone, please… please pick one theme so we can proceed.”
Deborah laughed softly, touched despite herself.
“I appreciate all your opinions, really. But maybe something in between. Something elegant but not too loud.”
The stylist immediately pulled out a gown hidden behind the others, a long, moonlit ivory dress with delicate shimmer and an open back that folded like falling silk.
“I think this matches what you described,” she said gently.
Deborah’s breath caught. “It’s… beautiful.”
Caelum nodded approvingly. “That one. Definitely that one.”
Knight leaned close to the dress. “It looks like it was made for you.”
She smiled, cheeks warming. “Let me try it on.”
While Deborah disappeared into the fitting room, the boys returned to their own suit chaos.
“I swear this tailor is shrinking my sleeve on purpose,” Lysander complained as the tailor tugged at the cuff.
“I swear you’re hallucinating,” Aston answered.
Meanwhile Caelum was arguing over lapels with a designer.
“Not too shiny. No, not matte either. Something in the middle. Is that so hard?”
The boutique echoed with designer disputes, laughter, and the occasional groan from a needle prick.
After several minutes, the curtain of the fitting room slid open, and Deborah stepped out.
Everyone paused. The ivory shimmer of the gown caught the warm light perfectly. The fabric clung where it needed to and flowed gracefully with every small movement. Her hair fell gently against the open back, and even without accessories, she radiated elegance.
“Wow,” Lysander whispered.
Knight’s eyes widened. “That’s… damn.”
Aston placed a hand on his chest dramatically. “Our little Deborah grew up.”
A chorus of stylists nodded enthusiastically.
“This is the perfect gown.” Deborah flushed a little.
“Is it too much?”
“Too much?” Caelum laughed. “It’s barely enough.”
They continued planning, accessories, hairstyle ideas, shoe colors, jewelry placement. The stylists suggested:
“A sleek bun with diamond pins.”
“Or soft waves to match the gown’s movement.”
“Silver stilettos.”
“A clutch with moonstone detailing.”
Deborah took notes, deeply focused. The boys teased one another over cufflinks and watches.
The boutique felt lively, warm, safe. Until it didn’t.
While searching for a different pair of heels at another display table, Deborah caught a glimpse of a familiar silhouette near the far end of the boutique, a woman flipping through a selection of gold gowns.
Her stomach twisted immediately. The girl from last night. The one who kissed Luther. Deborah froze for a moment but quickly forced herself to breathe.
Pretend. Ignore. She doesn’t matter.
She turned her back slightly, trying to keep her attention on a rack of shoes.
But footsteps approached. Light, and a confident footsteps. Deborah kept her eyes downward, pretending to study a pair of silver heels.
Then....a soft, cheerful voice spoke right beside her.
“Hi! You are Deborah, right?”