Consort of the Demon King

ʚ1ɞ

I looked in the mirror, sighing deeply, restraining myself from throwing my straightener across the room. Why does my hair insist on being absolutely insufferable every single time I do it!

I grumbled, grabbing another chunk of freshly blown out hair. I used the products my sister gifted to me, apparently one of the handmaidens have a great recipe for hair oil, and continued applying heat to my hair. I took my time, making sure every single piece of hair silky straight. Thank God our estate has electricity, those who are less fortunate don't always have access to electricity here, especially in the more crowded areas of the city.

Once finished I put the straightener away, looking at myself in the mirror again. I inwardly frowned at my reflection, sitting up a little straighter. Ugh, I'll never understand why I didn't get the looks like my sisters. I guess there was nothing really wrong with my features, they were cute I suppose, but they were nothing like the striking features my sisters had. My cheeks were full, like my lips, and my face was round, my eyes wide and doe like. Again, cute I guess, but nowhere near as stunning, elegant and ravishing as my sisters.

I made my way from the vanity to my full length mirror in the corner of my room, looking at the gown I wore. It was a beautiful teal, the bodice tied up tightly in the back accentuating my shape in the middle. It was off the shoulder, and had beautiful lace sleeves with tear drop shaped jewels adorning them. It did well for my breasts, but like all silky material it made my gut stick out, and it clung to my hips and backside terribly.

The biggest downside to the gown was that it pooled around my ankles, a few inches too long for me like most of my garments. The seamstresses here are so used to making the clothes so long for my sisters since they're taller, they always seem to forget about me.

I sighed, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. I felt those familiar cloudy thoughts threatening to come to the front of my mind as I stared at my reflection, but I quickly shooed them away. I can't think too hard about how I look today. I'm supposed to be happy, I can't let my sour mood ruin the day.

I let out a deep breath before slipping on my platform heels, giving me the extra inches so the dress just touched the floor, the back still having a small train. I'd still have to lift it to walk but I'd be fine. I'm used to walking in heels now, after wearing them all the time to match my other sisters in height. Just another one of the many things I've adapted myself to.

I was putting on a delicate string of jewels around my neck when one of my sisters, Leila, came into my room. "Sarai are you almost ready or what? The party will be starting soon and all of us need to be there before it begins." She said.

Leila was the youngest of us, she came out last after the grueling 48 hours of labor our mother went through with us girls, and I felt she was closest to me. I spent a lot of my time with her, the two of us used to get into a world of trouble when we were just toddlers. We would run through the garden, collecting the most beautiful flowers and making flower crowns. Brushing each others hair under the willow trees, giggling and sharing secrets we thought nobody else knew. She really was my rock, whether she knew it or not.

She wore a stunning red gown in the same silk material, and it clung to every curve on her body. It was strapless, yet somehow her breasts were still perky, and she had a lot of cleavage. It was completely covered in beading and jewels, so much so that I had to assume the dress had some real weight to it. A slit ran up the side of her dress so high I was nervous for her, but she wore it confidently.

She was caramel skinned, eyes a beautiful forest green. She had her long honey blonde hair in a low ponytail, her huge loose and bouncy curls freely flowing down her back . Her tiara sparkled atop her head, made of gold leaves, adorned with heart shaped diamonds and the family crest crest at the center. Two golden fairy wings with a sword thrust through the center.