Rosalie ran down the stairs, hindered only slightly by the skirt of her gown. As she gained distance from the vampire that should have been Vlad, she found herself noticing things about herself, instead of just the others. The gown, of course, she had seen, but now she realized what an odd style it was, innocent and pure and girlish, much better suited to someone younger. Younger.
Sixteenth birthday? Maybe.
The thing on her head was light, a circlet, or a very simple tiara perhaps. There was jewelry too, all simple and fresh, pearls and precious metals that she knew she hadn't put on before she went up to Vlad's. There were no roses in sight, but the scent of them hung heavily in the air. How on earth she had missed that, she didn't know. Rosalie almost missed the ninth floor as well, but the number registered just in time and she swung herself back around and into the hall.
Ella was in 905. She let the skirt of her gown fall back on the floor and knocked on the door several times, apologizing silently in advance for waking the other woman up at this time of night.