“This was your room,” she whispered, walking to the bed and letting her fingertips brush across a beige gown that sparkled with thousands of tiny gems ranging from shades of citrine to brilliant whites. Sheer fabric lined the flowy dress.
“I’ll let you get dressed for your ceremony.” Her voice held a tinge of disapproving harshness that seemed to stick to my skin and sink me further into an anxious slump. “I shall return.” The queen vanished.
I huffed, wishing the ceremony was already over. I just wanted to be with Fletcher. I wanted to give him his magic back so we could take down the Cidris together. This was just a step I had to take to inch my way closer to that goal.
Feeling dazed, I carefully placed Fletcher’s favorite book in the top drawer of the empty dresser for safe keeping before I undressed and delicately put on the gown. It weighed heavy on my shoulders and hips, and not just from the sheer amount of ornamentation. A woman wearing a simple frock and a neutral expression strode into my room and approached me. She tied up the back of my gown so that the bodice hugged my upper body snuggly, gently flaring out until the gossamer fabric dusted the ground. The woman did up my blonde hair into a low bun that waswrapped in twirls of more hair, making it look elegant and sophisticated.
Then, makeup was applied. A tone slightly darker than my strawberry-tinted lips was painted over them to accentuate the natural color. Black liner swept across my upper and lower lids then smudged out to pointed edges. More black shadow was added to my lids, making my iced-gray eyes radiant and piercing. A hint of highlighter and rosy blush brushed across my cheekbones.
I stood in the mirror, not recognizing an inch of myself. My face looked more angular than it actually was. My already plump lips appeared even poutier in the darker lip tint. The dress pushed up my breasts, and the flare of the skirt accentuated my faint curves. The woman who looked back at me was feminine, beautiful, powerful. She was confident. She would never let anyone tell her she was anything less. This woman was the epitome of royalty.
An ache touched my heart as I saw the empty space next to my reflection. I wished Fletcher could see me like this. His reaction—first his eyes would widen in surprise, then his mouth would open to let out a soft chuckle in admiration. Finally, his arms would cover me in warmth. An intense pang of longing shotthrough my chest. This wasn’t right. He should be here by my side as Elizy welcomed me back. His absence felt wrong standing in this bejeweled gown. I felt like I was betraying him somehow. I wouldn’t be here without him—he was in the reason I was in Elizy at all—yet he could not join me.
“Wow,” the queen’s voice rang out from the door, startling me in its abruptness.
I looked to my right and saw her standing in a blue lace gown that she was holding off the floor in one hand, revealing matching heels. Her other hand was firmly pressed over her heart while her face was marked in makeup similar to mine.
“You are spectacular, Ripley.” Tears gathered in her eyes, but I couldn’t tell if they were genuine or if they were a clever ruse to gain my sympathy.
“Thanks,” I answered flatly, not wanting to show much emotion toward the woman trying to keep Fletcher away from me. “Have you thought at all about my proposition?”
She dabbed away the tears, sniffed, and answered, “Of course I have.”
“Well? Have you decided?”
She stepped to me, gently shaking her head. “No, not yet. I still have time. Let me just enjoy seeing mybeautiful daughter.” Then, she circled me as a farmer would inspect the animals they were to buy.
I furrowed my brow, confused by her words and actions. I figured she’d come and see me, but my expectation was that she’d sit me on the bed and ask how I’d been—where I’d been. Ask me about my life away from Elizy—who had kidnapped me. How I had escaped and made it back. I expected her to tell me that she missed me. But instead, she stood there smiling as if wanting to pretend like nothing had happened.
Perhaps that conversation would come in the future. I had, after all, come on strong about not wanting them to see me as their daughter, so maybe she was just trying to respect my request.
I let her look me over a few times before she parted her lips and said, “Everything is almost ready. Your father and I will walk out first, then you will follow.” She sighed. “You are going to make such a profound princess. And I don’t know if this means anything, but I am proud of you.”
She took a step forward and wrapped an arm around me, careful not to let go of her dress.
Her embrace felt neither warm nor cold. My magic had some sort of reaction though. Did my magic everhave a reaction in front of the queen before I had gotten kidnapped? I would have liked to know.
“Well, I’ll see you outside.” And as quickly as she had appeared, she was gone.
Minutes later, I was ushered out of my room, down the two grand staircases, and to a back exit.
Before I knew it, I felt the sun on my face, images of the castle’s interior having rushed by and words of convoluted instructions having been spoken into my overwhelmed ears. We took a narrow passageway that curved toward the front of the castle. I could only see the stage that was set in front of me.
The queen was already posed on the platform at the top of a flight of stairs, smiling and waving with the king by her side. His arm was wrapped around her waist as his lips came to her cheek for a quick peck. Enormous double doors leading into the castle stood behind them like a regal backdrop.
The crowd was loud and feisty. Sweat began to coat my hands as whistles and hollers sailed through the air. Wiping them on the sides of my dress, I was glad to be hiding behind the wall of the stone passageway.
“We are gathered here today for a very special event,” the queen began, projecting her voice using her magic. “Thank you all for coming. I introduce toyou our long-lost, loving, kind, and exceptional princess, Ripley Griever.”
A pair of hands shoved me out onto the stage and my eyes darted to the crowd of several hundred spectators that were going wild. I waved timidly at them, thinking if I didn’t, they’d swallow me whole.
It was then that a velvety voice echoed through my head, scaring away my nerves.
Look to the trees,Fletcher coaxed.
I quickly looked out across the crowd, past the field of grass, beyond the barrier, and into the trees. There he was. His broad shoulders, tapered waist, and long legs at the apex of a tree. One shoulder leaned against the bough, feet firmly pressed on two separate branches, one knee bent just slightly as he waved at me. I wanted to say something back, desperately. But I refused to use my magic. He knew that. So instead, I smiled brightly and gave him an excited wave.
I made it.
