Sequel: The Game ›
Status: complete, but revisions are being made
The Pauper Princess
Chapter Forty
“What is being done about the wedding gown?” I ask as I sit on the stool in front of the mirrors. The dress that my father wanted me to wear had been in one of the wagons, all of which have yet to turn up. Rythan and the rest of Jegan’s soldiers still have not reached the palace. As far as we know, they never left Frayihn.
“Someone brought a dress earlier this morning. I was still sleeping, but I think Ekohl said he put it in the wardrobe.” Mehta sat down at the vanity and picked up a brush, seemingly unconcerned, but I could see by the mirror in front of her that she was nervous. Regardless, I walked to the wardrobe to find this mysterious dress.
I wasn't very difficult to locate; Ekohl had merely hug it over one of the doors. The dress itself was a simple full-length gown, but the embroidery was incredible. Intricate designs and flowers stitched in thin silver thread covered every inch of fabric. From a distance, the dress seemed to glow as it glittered in the light. Perhaps the most fitting part of the gown, though, was the indigo sash and slippers that almost perfectly matched the color of Mehta’s eyes.
“It’s gorgeous,” Mehta said from right beside me. She touched the elaborate embroidery in awe before she ran her fingers down to the sash.
Just then, a knock came from the main door. I passed the dress to Mehta and hurried to open the door, knowing that Valahn and his men had to approve of everyone who visits this room. A stout elderly woman stood waiting patiently in the hall. She grinned up at me and her surprisingly clear green eyes shone.
“Good morning!” she said brightly. I nod with a smile and moved aside to let her in. Something about her cheerfulness made me want to be just as happy as her. A young girl followed the woman into the room carrying a lumpy pile of what appeared to be cloth scraps, thread in a variety of colors, several hair combs and brushes, and a myriad of other supplies I couldn’t identify.
“Ah,” the old woman sighed, “I see they found the dress.” She walked right up to Mehta and observed the gown with admiration. “Took me weeks to make that thing,” she said with a proud smile.
“You made this?” Mehta asked. Her eyes lit up with astonishment.
“Many years ago,” the woman answered. “It once belonged to the queen. She told me to give it to you.”
“I can’t accept this,” Mehta said softly.
“Well of course you can!” The woman laughed heartily. “Don’t you know not to refuse a gift from the queen?” Mehta gave me a worried look as if I should have told her about that rule.
“Don’t question it,” I tell her quietly. “She wants you to have it.” Mehta nods. She then looks over my shoulder and a quizzical look crosses her face. Turning around, I see that the girl has dropped her bundle on the floor near the mirrors and the old woman is rummaging through it.
“Do you need any help?” I kneel down beside them, but I have no idea what they are looking for.
“Oh, no. Just trying to find that crown.” While the woman is still fumbling around, the girl reaches decisively into the mess and pulls out a silver circlet from under a gray piece of cloth. She silently held it out to the woman.
“Oh, bless you, child. What would I do without you?” The old woman sets the circlet on the vanity and turns to face Mehta. “Now, dear, we better get that dress sized up for you.” Mehta looked at me, but I just shrugged.
I sat down on the bed and watched as the woman directed Mehta to put on the gown and stand on the stool. The woman walked around Mehta in circles making adjustments, and the girl followed handing her pins and taking down measurements. I could see Mehta when, after twelve complete circles, she was finally allowed to get down and take off the dress..
“Now,” the woman said, “Sit down and Rey here will fix up your hair.” Mehta obeyed and the girl,
Rey, stepped up behind her. She set two small combs and several hairpins on the vanity and meticulously started brushing through Mehta’s hair.
While the old woman reshaped the dress, Rey formed Mehta’s hair into an elaborate coil atop her head and used the combs and pins to keep it in place. To finish it off, she placed the circlet delicately on Mehta’s head. The circlet was designed to look like a twisted sprig of flowers. The tiny silver lilacs are all the more noticeable against her dark tresses.
The old woman has just finished the alterations on the dress, so Mehta puts it back on. I place the slippers on the floor and help her tie the sash. She’s all ready for the wedding. Her hair is flawless, her dress gorgeous, and the indigo sash makes her dark blue eyes look brighter than usually. She smiles at me from her perch on the stool, and she looks every bit like a princess.
“Someone brought a dress earlier this morning. I was still sleeping, but I think Ekohl said he put it in the wardrobe.” Mehta sat down at the vanity and picked up a brush, seemingly unconcerned, but I could see by the mirror in front of her that she was nervous. Regardless, I walked to the wardrobe to find this mysterious dress.
I wasn't very difficult to locate; Ekohl had merely hug it over one of the doors. The dress itself was a simple full-length gown, but the embroidery was incredible. Intricate designs and flowers stitched in thin silver thread covered every inch of fabric. From a distance, the dress seemed to glow as it glittered in the light. Perhaps the most fitting part of the gown, though, was the indigo sash and slippers that almost perfectly matched the color of Mehta’s eyes.
“It’s gorgeous,” Mehta said from right beside me. She touched the elaborate embroidery in awe before she ran her fingers down to the sash.
Just then, a knock came from the main door. I passed the dress to Mehta and hurried to open the door, knowing that Valahn and his men had to approve of everyone who visits this room. A stout elderly woman stood waiting patiently in the hall. She grinned up at me and her surprisingly clear green eyes shone.
“Good morning!” she said brightly. I nod with a smile and moved aside to let her in. Something about her cheerfulness made me want to be just as happy as her. A young girl followed the woman into the room carrying a lumpy pile of what appeared to be cloth scraps, thread in a variety of colors, several hair combs and brushes, and a myriad of other supplies I couldn’t identify.
“Ah,” the old woman sighed, “I see they found the dress.” She walked right up to Mehta and observed the gown with admiration. “Took me weeks to make that thing,” she said with a proud smile.
“You made this?” Mehta asked. Her eyes lit up with astonishment.
“Many years ago,” the woman answered. “It once belonged to the queen. She told me to give it to you.”
“I can’t accept this,” Mehta said softly.
“Well of course you can!” The woman laughed heartily. “Don’t you know not to refuse a gift from the queen?” Mehta gave me a worried look as if I should have told her about that rule.
“Don’t question it,” I tell her quietly. “She wants you to have it.” Mehta nods. She then looks over my shoulder and a quizzical look crosses her face. Turning around, I see that the girl has dropped her bundle on the floor near the mirrors and the old woman is rummaging through it.
“Do you need any help?” I kneel down beside them, but I have no idea what they are looking for.
“Oh, no. Just trying to find that crown.” While the woman is still fumbling around, the girl reaches decisively into the mess and pulls out a silver circlet from under a gray piece of cloth. She silently held it out to the woman.
“Oh, bless you, child. What would I do without you?” The old woman sets the circlet on the vanity and turns to face Mehta. “Now, dear, we better get that dress sized up for you.” Mehta looked at me, but I just shrugged.
I sat down on the bed and watched as the woman directed Mehta to put on the gown and stand on the stool. The woman walked around Mehta in circles making adjustments, and the girl followed handing her pins and taking down measurements. I could see Mehta when, after twelve complete circles, she was finally allowed to get down and take off the dress..
“Now,” the woman said, “Sit down and Rey here will fix up your hair.” Mehta obeyed and the girl,
Rey, stepped up behind her. She set two small combs and several hairpins on the vanity and meticulously started brushing through Mehta’s hair.
While the old woman reshaped the dress, Rey formed Mehta’s hair into an elaborate coil atop her head and used the combs and pins to keep it in place. To finish it off, she placed the circlet delicately on Mehta’s head. The circlet was designed to look like a twisted sprig of flowers. The tiny silver lilacs are all the more noticeable against her dark tresses.
The old woman has just finished the alterations on the dress, so Mehta puts it back on. I place the slippers on the floor and help her tie the sash. She’s all ready for the wedding. Her hair is flawless, her dress gorgeous, and the indigo sash makes her dark blue eyes look brighter than usually. She smiles at me from her perch on the stool, and she looks every bit like a princess.