"No," Krem conceded, shaking his head and still looking down at the stitching. He rotated the piece in his hands, holding it up. It was hard to imagine that this slip of a dress was meant to be worn out in public, but Krem supposed he'd seen people wear less.

"No, I know that it's not how things are exactly done." He often worried he came across more like a covetous bird than anything else, spying beautiful people and collecting them, harboring little jealousies to himself when he knew he would never be enough for them and preening endlessly when they doted him.

He reached for the tea and sipped it, letting it warm and sooth.

"Did Dorian set you on nosing it out, or you curious on your own behalf? Because he keeps not asking about it, like I'll tell just him if he stares hard enough."