At this point, she doesn't even know why she bothers to dress up. Who's going to see her anyway, if she spends days and nights in the vault? Sense of duty, darling, her mother scolds.
She has started keeping some changes of dresses down there, some food, because she won't give up, Henry has taught her not to. Heroes don't give up. And every morning she reignites the candles, and reads.
The dust swirls around her, and magic keeps her warm.
But tonight, she's coming apart in his arms, finally, and she's somehow glad to have worn the red dress.