Diary of a Reluctant Ruler

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The bustle of wedding plans made the days slow and fast alternately, my feet growing hot and cold in a similar fashion. Despite having seen Indira’s happiness I was still worried, and often when I stopped to think for a moment I felt things crowding in on me with an intense pressure similar to that I’d experienced in exam season. I worried about guests, I worried about dresses, I worried about invitations going astray, but most of all I worried about James and having to spend the rest of my life with him. Yes, I loved him. Yes, I wanted to be with him. But there was still this part of me which was completely and utterly terrified about it all.

Fortunately, or not so fortunately as it freed my mind to think of other things, the wedding plans were nearly finalised. Flowers had been picked – soft yellow roses and lily of the valley, in a bouquet style hilariously named ‘nosegay’. Invitations had been sent out – dark green and white for the serious guests and relatives, more simplistic (and I thought more beautiful) green and yellow ones for friends and family. My bridesmaids had all been sent separate invitations and their dress measurements had been taken. Olly had been planning a get together of bridesmaids for after Christmas so that we could get to know each other as a group, and she’d promised me to reveal her dress designs then, including my wedding dress.

A few weeks before Christmas, Mum decided to spring a renovation project on us, asking me to supervise the restoration of the palace’s west wing, which up until now had been simply empty rooms with the occasional tourist group walking through to admire the plasterwork.

She didn’t give many specifics as to how she wanted them redone, but Dad chimed in, saying it was a good idea and that I should redo it as a family wing. I was surprised - for one thing, Dad had already persuaded Grandmother to remove a lot of my general princess duties in order that I could concentrate on the wedding, and for another, there had never been plans to alter the west wing before – but I tackled the project with enthusiasm, and James soon found a passion for the structural detail.

It was nice being able to go and strip wallpaper in a mindless fashion for half an hour, something I’d never done before as it apparently played havoc with your nails. But mine weren’t needed in good condition for a while yet and, besides, they seemed safe enough.

It was during a cleanout of one of the old rooms - which seemed to have a thousand and one chests in it - that James had discovered an extremely ostentatious set of china which would do perfectly for the first reception, which is why we changed the colour scheme from black and white to green and gold; to match the plates. The first reception seemed suddenly a lot less frightening and a lot funnier with those plates in the middle of all its cheesy ceremony.

Oran got the notion into his head that as James could not see my dress before the wedding, I should not be able to see James in his suit before the wedding. I therefore had no idea whether he was wearing grey, black, blue, white or bright pink.

Holy ghost that would be a crazy suit.

I’ve no doubt some men could pull it off.

Not James though.

Agreed, not James.

Dear God, I hope he doesn’t get a pink suit.

Morning coat, tails, tuxedo, I had no idea. But I was happily curious and liked to interrogate James about it whenever possible, he in return interrogating me. Although he didn’t get very far with that, as I was just as clueless for now as him.

Christmas was a busy time, as per usual, so we relocated our family Christmas to three days later. We all went up to the Jacinthe’s, Mum, Dad, Grandmother, Felix, James & I, where Olly had returned home (accompanied by Theo!) and James’ parents organised us a marvellous second Christmas dinner. We spent the whole of our ‘Christmas day’ doing nothing in particular; the adults talking long into the night about old times and current politics, us younger folk playing endless card games and laughing ourselves silly over Charades. My initial fear of my in-laws gradually dissolved, particularly with Lily, who was so welcoming and understanding.

New Year came and went as well, with several balls and parties which James attended alongside me. I went through a phase of living in Parliament throughout the week, which was a little disturbing as I was soon spouting politics at the dinner table. After two weeks of lecturing him about the pros and cons of a benefit state, James banned me from attending more than two sessions a week and made me go cold turkey for three days, which returned me to normal.

Then in the second week of January, Olly somehow managed to get what seemed like the entire female population of my wedding party into one room to reveal her clothing genius. Even Maria had flown in from Lorainya, and she sat towards the front swinging her little legs off the edge of the arm chair, talking animatedly to my mother-in-law-to-be.

That’s a mouthful.

Turn it into an acronym… M-I-L-T-B.

Mill-te-beh?

Or Milly for short.

How about just Lily?

Huh, that works too.

“Ahem!” Olly said from the front of the parlour, standing next to a flip chart and a projector. She looked very professional, which was good, because across the room, Lady Devont and her daughter Miss Caroline Devont were looking around with a decidedly negative air. They both looked as if they had swallowed slugs and were attempting not to show it whilst the little beasties crawled back up their throats.

The murmurs died down from around the room. On my left Lady Georgiana shifted uncomfortably in her smart pencil skirt, no doubt wishing for trousers. And on my right Cecilia watched her cousin attentively.

“Ladies, may I first welcome you to the unveiling of the dress designs and secondly thank you for attending,” Olly began, her elegant summer dress swishing as she moved across to turn on the projector, “We will start with the wedding party proper. Firstly, the colour scheme for the dresses is as follows…”

She began to outline some of the particulars which themed the wedding, and then moved on to the first design, for Lily. I could see Olly as nervous about this one, Lily being her own mother, so I understood why she’d put it first to get it out of the way.

“So, Mum, this is your dress.”

She flipped onto the next slide, which had a several sketches of a dress at various angles. It had a sleek bodice and flowed to the floor, suited to Lily’s petite hourglass shape, and was a light forget-me-not blue.

“Oh, that’s just lovely,” Lily said, smiling.

Olly moved on quickly after outlining a few of the details, to Mum’s dress, similarly sleek in a light brown champagne shade, brushing just below the knee. Then Grandmother’s dress, this time structured in a pale, sunny yellow with a smart black jacket.

She then moved on to bridesmaids. First Jenn, Iona and Jade, who had three grey dresses. A layered skirt with a scooped neckline was Jenn’s dress made of silky fabric. Iona’s had a tight fitting top, straight neckline, scooped skirt and used a patterned fabric. Jade’s was loose, in a plain fabric, with plenty of movement in it.

“You’ve been very considerate, thank you,” Jade said as she looked at the design, “Could I suggest that the first fitting is done with the gun holster on?”

“Of course,” Olly replied, obviously surprised that Jade should want to carry her gun around throughout my wedding.

She moved on to Georgiana and Cecilia who were wearing cream coloured floor length dresses. Georgiana’s dress had straps were Cecilia’s didn’t, and both loved the fabric, which Olly passed a sample of around. Then she moved on to Theresa, Caroline and herself, who were wearing pale green. Theresa’s had a high waist and looked very Jane Austen-esque. She grinned as she saw it. Caroline’s was shorted and had an A-line skirt to flatter her top-heavy shape. Her reaction wasn’t quite as flattering as Theresa’s.

“I’ll look like a meringue,” she muttered to her mother.

Olly was visibly taken off guard by the quiet snip, and for a moment she stuttered as she tried to explain about the fabric.

“Of course, each dress is tailored to the individual’s body shape, but if there is anything you’d like to change I’m open to suggestions,” Olly said after a moment, still a little thrown.

Well, if you’re going to be nasty-

-I hope you do look like a meringue in it!

A little bubble of anger popped inside me, and I narrowed my eyes at Caroline, who simply pressed her lips together in a tight pout and raised her chin to listen to Olly, who had moved on to Maria’s dress.

Maria was a far nicer customer, and she grinned enthusiastically throughout Olly’s commentary about the fabric she’d found, cream embroidered with little dragonflies in bright blue, red, yellow and green thread.

My anger at Caroline’s insensitivity dissipated as I realised that the next dress would be my own. Excitement fluttered in my stomach.

“And now, the pièce de résistance,” Olly smiled, catching my eye for a moment, her excitement mirroring my own, “Meredith’s wedding dress.”

She flicked the slide over, and-

It was beautiful.

I found myself laughing in a slightly hysterical fashion. I was going to be a bride, I was going to get married, and I was going to do it in this dress. It was everything we had discussed; simple but elegant, sleek at the top, incorporated the gorgeous lace and embroidery which tapered down the bodice. Where the top of the bodice stopped, the lace continued upwards into short fitted sleeves, with a slowly sloping v neckline.

I felt completely elated.

“Well?” Olly asked.

“I love it!” I cried, pulling her into a hug, “When do I get to see the real thing?!”

When I finally released Olly the others came up to give their congratulations too. Almost everyone agreed that the designs were perfect for each person, and were so glad that Olly had avoided attempting to make everyone wear the same dress, which inevitably made some people look silly. Everyone except Caroline, who remained aloof in her corner, talking to her mother in undertones.

I had a sneaking suspicion that she was going to be a little difficult…