Crowned Desires

4} The Lady's Maid

Celeste Lawrence

I woke up less than ladylike with Dasha's hands on my slim shoulders, shaking me violently.

"My lady Celeste, if you do not wake now, you will be late." She yelled and ripped my plush duvet cover from my warm body.

My limbs curled inward as the cold morning air stole my heat, a wince filling my features that I buried into the pillow, "Late? Late for what."

"The opening ceremonies," Dasha said matter-of-factly and stood back with her hands on her hips.

The first breath of those words made me jump out of my bed so quickly that I rolled off the side. My legs hit the floor with a thud, and the other half of my body clung to my mattress. I looked at Dasha over my shoulder with wide eyes.

"How much time do I have to get ready?"

"Not much." She beckoned me over to my large vanity, and when I sat down, Dasha got straight to work, brushing through my long, raven black hair.

"Our time only allows for a simple hairstyle, but I think it'll compliment your gown the best anyway."

This made a pulse of excitement beat through me. Dasha only did less complex styles when the dress was exceptionally breathtaking and could speak for itself. I usually didn't care what I looked like for the opening ceremonies; it was always just a room full of stuffy women who judged me anyway.

But this year, I had an incredibly annoying guard to try and knock off-kilter, so it would be worth it.

She took two strands in the front and twirled them twice, pining them together in the back with a diamond-crested hairpin. She brushed on some dark brown shadows under my eye and in the crease and finished off with a few swipes of mascara.

"I like that you wear darker makeup on your eyes. It reminds me of home. It's colder there, so the women generally wore smokey looks to bring color to the face." She mumbled as she worked, dabbing on a nude pink tint to my lips to finish it.

The small piece of her life she had shared with me warmed a smile on my face, and that silent response was enough.

I could only glimpse myself in the mirror before being whisked away behind my privacy panels to change, but I looked beautiful. Dasha always made me look like the princess I felt nothing like.

"I'm so eager to see the dress, Dash," I smiled and looked in the separated mirrors that lined the backside of each panel, different angles of my naked form being displayed back as she undressed me.

"It is beautiful, and I ensured that the seamstress topped all your other opening dresses. I figured you'd want a show-stopper this year." Looking up at me, she winked, making me laugh as she grabbed the gown from my wardrobe.

When I saw the shimmering white fabric, my jaw dropped, and my eyes widened. It didn't matter what the dress style was because it looked as if the cloth was cut from a cloud full of droplets of rain; I was already impressed. It twinkled in the light and fell in waves around Dasha's arm. Her satisfied smile hinted at her pride in this gown.

"Just wait till you see it on." She mumbled slyly as if seeing my speechless reaction and knowing it would only grow more shocked.

I was dressed quickly in my undergarments and corset, and then Dasha carefully draped the gown over my body. The small hand-cut diamonds sewn in dissipating clusters clinked together, sounding like a soft rain storm.

My curves filled the dress seams carefully crafted to fit my and my measurements only. Dasha's knowing smile was right because I was not fully prepared for the awestruck effect this gown would have on me.

When it was finally secured on my body, Dasha stepped back from smoothing the fabric and assuring its perfection; she allowed me to see myself fully in the mirror.

It clung to my body perfectly, hugging the small circumference of my waist, and once it hit the bottom of my hips, the fabric billowed out in rippling waves. It was more modest than what I usually did in the front, with a small band of diamonds running down my shoulder and across the small peaks of my bust with a slight excess to hang.

The back, however, was precisely in line with the seduction I liked to portray. The backless dress dipped far, exposing my spin's perfect curve and round hips. The cloth pooled just above my rear, and it tempted at the roundness of it as it lay just barely out of sight.

It was a mirage of elegance and the perfect mixture of provocative. Dasha knew exactly how to capture who I was.

With my mouth still open, I turned to Dasha, who was smiling smugly and nodding as if to say, 'Yes, I did this.'

She raised her hands, "I know I am amazing. You don't need to say anything. Let's just hurry and get you escorted to the thorn room."

"You know this gown will ruin my mother's day. She won't be the center of attention for a change."

Dasha recoiled at the mention of the queen, "She needs to be humbled." Then, as if remembering she was talking about my mother, she hurriedly corrected herself, "I-I mean no disrespect to her majesty-"

"Oh please, Dasha, don't worry about sparing that woman any mercy. Not at my expense." I said, and it seemed to relax her, the maid letting her shoulder slacken and the fear melt from her face. A fear I knew was instilled there by Royals before myself.

Dasha has served as my lady's maid for almost a year. I didn't know much about her past other than that she was a refuge from a kingdom across the ocean that had collapsed from war.

She never talked about herself much, and especially not about her past. I could tell from how she timidly moved through life, flinching from loud noises and peaking around corners, that she buried it for a reason.

I never pried; on the contrary, I understood the desire to hold onto those vulnerable, dark moments for yourself. It was some of the only things we could truly call ours as women.

I was just grateful for her; she had become close to me quickly. My other lady's maids held such strong loyalties to my parents that they became extensions of them while caring for me.

It felt as if I constantly had Mother in my room scolding my appearance and my body, telling me how I should act and all the other unsavory things she called me.

Dasha never did that. She detested the way my parents treated me instantly. The night I was informed of my betrothal, she held me as I wept all night in her arms. While running a soothing hand over my hair and telling me folklore from her village back home to distract me.

I knew very quickly that she served me not only as an employed servant to the kingdom of Alvera but also as a friend.

"More importantly, that guard will swallow his tongue when he sees me. If he's able to keep his hands off me, then I'm no longer sure he even finds women attractive," I continued.

Dasha's laughter filled the room, and from the reserved woman, it was welcomed noise, "That would be the only reasonable explanation."

A blissful sigh escaped my lips, and I smiled at her as we both neared my bedroom door, "I should be off. It seems I have some people to upset."

As if on cue, there was a series of heavy knocks at my door, and we both turned to look at the sound.

"My lady, it's time to go." Gray's velvet voice was unmistakable as he spoke with clear authority through the large oak passage.

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