CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Divers, I am.”
Because she was. There was no ‘real’ woman. This was what she was. It was also as much as she was showing him, the way her heart hammered. Anything else was a betrayal of Ennis. Already he'd be affronted seeing she'd stooped low enough to be a foot below ground level.
So, if Divers O’Roarke thought he could beat her down lower still about this dress, he'd a big thought coming.
He gestured at her reflection. “That dress, Destiny.”
“Divers … I’ve not said, no--”
“Where are the clouds of ambergris?” He strode back to the wardrobe. “The trailing wake of debris?”
“You will find debris if you don’t let go of this. And that debris will be you. And I … I will have some say in—Put me blue dress back.”
“Says who? You? When I’m the person who’s about to turn to dust? Now choose, Destiny. Choose. Blue? Or red? What do you think? What is more, I don’t believe that curse.”
“Well, more fool you because I’m telling you now--”