For those who are new, The Butterfly Dress is a story about Flora, a girl trapped in dismal job as a seamstress and dressmaker to her cruel mother. Although she dreams of designing gowns in New York or Paris, she is forced to settle for creating prom dresses for local girls while attending class at the local college. When she receives the chance to design the Coronation Queen’s gown for a local ball, magical things begin to happen. As she dives deeper into the ball’s mysterious past and its handsome prince, it’s a pair of shoes that might lead her to her final destiny.

Slowing to a walk, Flora gasped for breath, her chest heaving in her sweat-soaked gown. Limping forward, she inspected her shoe-less foot and sighed.

“So much for Cinderella,” she muttered to herself.  “At least I had a moment.”  Straightening her mask and brushing her sweat-soaked hair back from her head, Flora pulled the book from Mr. Grissom out of her bodice.  She flipped to page 59, dragging her sore foot towards the locked door.  Turning the combination lock, she tugged.  The door swung open silently, the greenhouse glowing within.  Stepping inside, she pulled out her notes, her lips moving as she read over them.

“Painted lady,” she murmured, passing cages fluttering with bright butterflies.  “American Snout, ruddy daggerwing…”  Stopping at the end of the greenhouse, she stared at the glass case.  Inside, silver butterflies, their wings shimmering in the pale startlight, fluttered about.  She picked up her skirts, stepping forward.  “Audrina’s heart,” she read, her hand flying to her throat.  “My grandmother’s name!”  She stared at the butterflies, her heart thudding.  Glancing down at the book, she thumbed through the pages, flipping through yellowed scraps of tight black writing and dashed sketches.  Cracking the book open in the middle, she stared down at a diagram, crudely drawn by Nate’s grandfather.

It laid out the entire gardens of the Nottingham estate, from the smallest flower to the largest pond.  Peering closer, she spied a tiny heart.  And then another.  And another.  Every heart had a number.  Flourishing her notes, her eyes darted back and forth.

“Painted lady is number one…swallowtail five…”  She lowered the pages, triumph flowing through her.  “That’s right by the first dress Eleanor showed me…that’s it!”  Leaping up, she nearly ripped the bodice of her dress and she shrieked, giddy.  “The dresses line up with the plants for the corresponding butterfly!  So the butterfly dress is…”  She glanced down, excitement draining out of her as she stared at the answer, thickly drawn in black ink.

“Damn,” she muttered.  “Damn.”  Cursing, she shoved the book back in her bodice, gathering up her skirts.  She glanced up at the moon, biting her lip as she dashed out of the greenhouse, her skirts rustling over the cobblestones as she rushed back toward the Coronation.

If she hurried, she could get to the dress before the winner was announced.  Then she could just look at the dress and hurry away, leave like any other guest.  It’s not like they would notice her.  Even in this gorgeous gown, with her silver mask and formerly gorgeous hair–even then, she was just another face.  Just another set of eyes, another body in the crowd.

Even if she only had one shoe.

Slowing as she approached the platform where Nate sat with Astrid on his right, his grandmother on the left under a rose covered arch, in tall intricate wicker chairs that looked more like thrones.  Her mother and Professor lurked by the side of the stage.  She followed their stares the center of the stage, where a tall object stood draped under a sheet.  “Probably another statue,” she muttered to herself, snorting.  Her moment of mirth was shattered as she watched Astrid reach over and take Nate’s hand, entwining his fingers with hers.  Tears pricked her eyes and she turned, fighting down the bile in her throat.  If they hadn’t looked so perfect together, it wouldn’t have been so painful. If their fingers hadn’t fit so perfectly, their palms pressing together as their hands interlocked…

Who was she kidding?  It was always going to be painful.  She couldn’t think of him without her chest aching.  The sight of his face made her want to tear her eyes out, made her pray she was deaf when she heard him laugh.  But to see him with her…not even she could bear that.

He was never yours to begin with, her mind scolded her. Stop being so silly.

A microphone cracked, jolting her from her pity.  “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming.”  Eleanor Nottingham beamed from the stage, her gown glittering under the soft glow of the elegant glass lanterns scattered across the gardens.  White lights had been strung through the trees and glittered in the roses around the arch, making her scarlet dress gleam like a ruby.  If Flora’s fingers still didn’t bear the marks, she would have never known her hands had sewn it.   “Twenty years ago, my husband Henry created this Coronation.  And for twenty years, the Nottingham family has been delighted to honor our fairy city with a celebration of midsummer.”

She paused.  “This Coronation, however, is quite special.  My grandson, Nate, was voted king.”  She paused for applause, smiling.  “In addition, we have also held a contest for the best dress.  It is something we do every year, but this year, there is a prize.”  She waited as the audience began to shift, murmuring amongst each other.    “But before we reveal the winner, I want to reveal something else.  A gift from the Nottinghams, I suppose you could say.”  She turned, sweeping out her arm as she pointed to the left of the stage.  “Mr. Grissom, if you wouldn’t mind?”

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  We have a new Sidewalk Dreams tomorrow!  Stay tuned!

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