Hermosa POV

After the strange conversation I had with Lucy, my hairs were on end.

There was something she wasn’t telling me, and whether I wanted to admit it or not, it bothered me.

I went back to my room, staring at the wardrobe filled with different clothes.

I rummaged through them, picking what I thought would be suitable for a dinner—which, by the way, was still suspicious.

Long gowns with exposed backs, short gowns with barely any length filled the wardrobe.

The ...