The Lost Knight (Volume IV) The Lost Prince

Chapter 5: Bad Boys & Pretty Dresses

Elves believe you have to honor a lost loved one by recounting funny or poignant stories about them. Families gather for food and games, laughing and dancing. Mourning is a happy time full of parties and weddings.

There wasn't a single funeral because only the six survivors made it back home. But because so many soldiers died, the Queen decided to throw a ball to celebrate the end of mourning.

I find it insulting to Lenox and Carfron, and all the others that died. I also think my presence is a slight to everyone who lost someone. I shouldn't have been invited. I shouldn't be the one that survived. It was my fault it happened. I made a terrible mistake, and everyone else paid for it.

But here I sit, in front of Albína, getting my hair done for tonight's party. Two days ago, I burnt a flower for Lenox. I'm supposed to let him go now, but I can't. I keep thinking the only reason he hasn't returned is because he's injured, cold, and scared. Is he wondering why I abandoned him?

"Lenox was a good and funny boy," I say to Albína while she applies my makeup. "I have many memories of him that make me laugh, like the time he sneezed in Trelix's face," 

She chuckles. "Such a bad boy." 

That makes a small laugh escape and a smile creep to my face. "He did it on purpose. Trelix was yelling at him. It was a standoff. Then he sneezed. Trelix was so mad. I laughed for so long I started coughing."

It's going to take forever to get ready because I'm doing everything the traditional way, the hair, the makeup, the ridiculous dress. Albína is so excited, she's practically bouncing around our quarters. I'm letting her do this as an apology for leaving, and as a thank you for tolerating my behavior when I returned.

I entertain myself by studying Albína's focused face while images of the battle, Trelix, Joaer, and the others flash across my brain. Happy thoughts followed by reminders of terror and grief. I have to stop. I just don't know how.

"I can do this," I say to myself in the mirror. "I loved them, and they deserve better than to haunt me in nightmares."

Albína does a nice job with my hair. Well, my hair and whoever else's she added. It's piled high on my head, covering the bald spot and my lack of an ear, in a style that reminds me of those old French ladies with the white hair and giant beehive hairdos.

"Alright now, get in the tub for this next part. It's messy."

I follow and step into the tub in my underwear. Without warning, she hits me with a pillowcase stuffed with powder. A cloud of glistening smoke surrounds me. I cough, not because I need to, but because I think I should.

"Let's get dressed," she sings.

The getting dressed requires a team of people. I got to do the undergarments myself, but then a corset, four under skirts, and some kind of ribbed apparatus around my hips needed to be buttoned, sewn, and laced by multiple people. It's taken hours, and I'm not even fully dressed yet.

"You're going to like this next part," she shouts from inside the closet.

She pulls out a dark plum gown that twinkles when it moves. I'm so happy that it's not the crazy elf colors. It's gorgeous. If I'm honest, there's a part of me that every once in a while craves a stupid girly moment, but I've always squashed it like a bug whenever it appeared. But now, seeing this amazing dress that I get to wear, I can't contain my inner princess.

"Wow. Albína this is...wow."

"You like it?"

"I love it. Thank you. You did great. How did you get this color?"

"I knew you'd be happy."

The dress has more parts, and it takes the entire team to put it on me. First, is the silver underskirt. Next is a skirt that's so airy, it hardly seems as if it could hold itself together, let alone, the heavy embroidery and jewels emblazoned across the front of it.

Then another corset that goes over the plain corset I'm already wearing. I might break a rib if she pulls any tighter. This corset is encrusted in pearls, diamonds, and two different purple-colored gems. It's so intricately patterned, it's a shame that the rest of the dress outshines it, literally. The overskirt is draped over the back and left open in the front to highlight the beautiful underskirt. It's a velvety, deep plum, heavily embroidered skirt with multiple metallic threads and more jewels that make an extraordinary floral pattern.

Next is the matching jacket with tight lacey sleeves and flouncy cuffs that flutter with the slightest movement of my hand. Then she adds a ridiculously high collar made of fluffy feathers and lace. It wraps around the back of my head and frames my face. If I turn my head, all I see is feathers. It makes me a tad claustrophobic.

"Last piece," she announces when she holds up the cape.

I'm trying not to complain. The fabric is lightweight so other than the corsets, it's not that restrictive, even though I'm wearing over twelve layers of clothing.

"I couldn't put on this many clothes if I wore everything in my closet," I say with a smile.

"Well, whose fault is that," Albína shoots back. I don't think anything can wipe the grin off her face. She's been waiting a long time for this moment.

She hurriedly snaps the cape across my back and wraps a strap around my upper arms to make a cap sleeve. I'm a living wedding cake. I can't believe I agreed to this.

"Take a look," she insists.

Frankly, I've been dreading this. Clown makeup, shimmery body powder, and more dress than any one person should ever wear. I must smile no matter what. The elves will think I look fabulous, so going out like this isn't a big deal. It's only one night.

I step in front of the mirror and stare at the beautiful embroidery at the hem. Could they ever make this on Earth? I guess they could, but it would cost more than a house.

I slowly raise my eyes until they stop at my face. I don't recognize myself. The over-the-top hair, makeup, and dress have combined into a radiant picture.

"I look like a Queen. A wicked Queen."

"I knew because you were tall, that this would be amazing," Albína coos.

"Only in Cromsmead would I be considered tall," I say, turning to her. I can't face the stranger in the mirror anymore. She's more foreign than the first time I saw myself as a Knight.

"Hold on. I have to get a remembrance." She holds up the pareixer and circles me.

"I want to see it before you do anything with it."

She hands me the pareixer, and a three-dimensional, life-size image appears. I look scared, and my eyes are sad. I like the shimmery powder. It makes my skin glow. I guess I am wearing the right amount of makeup.

I am sad. I shouldn't be wearing elaborate gowns and going to parties. I should be in bed. But I'm doing this for them. If I'm alive, then I have to live; anything else is selfish.

"Now smile and go look as if you're having fun," I command myself.