The Daughter Of Illéa

Chapter 73

My leather hand stitched luggage was packed on the bed. One consoling my possessions, and the other bag full of day dresses that my maids smuggled in. No matter how many times I laughed at them sitting on the slick oak toned bag top while the other was determined to zip up the tracks along the side, it couldn't change my conscience.

"I reassure you Delilah dear, you look amazing."

I found it odd that they would still treat me with such formalities and mannerisms despite my sudden and rational leave.

"Yes, the best dress of all!" Tinsley pipes up, her petite figure poking into a drawer.

My dress was pink. Baby pink. It hugged my torso, exposing my feminine curves and blooming appearance; at my hips it sprouted, the silk falling around me in a ball gown type of design. Note the big bow on the small of my back.

It was a reincarnated dress from when Augustus asked me out. At the time I was thinner and couldn't pose as well in heels, but he saw something. Something so extraordinary that he had to ask me out in the works of literature. Dork.

"Guys," my voice faltered. It was hard to believe in only a few days this tone of voice, this Angeles accent will be gone and the southern one from Atlin will replace it. "it's beautiful. But that's not why I'm concerned."

They could tell by the way I spoke. Do you know when your a kid and you want something bad you crave it, but you dismantle it or corrupt it or just can't get it in general? Yes, well do you remember the way you cried when you parents scolded you for it. Not like a weeping, or sobbing. It's this time of cry that starts off soft, but dramatically takes a turn for the worse, snatching your breath from your lungs. So your just hovering over your knees seizing oxygen, but the pain retorts it until your hiccuping like a mellow dramatic sketchy teenager.

This was it. The soft tears seeping down my face one at a time, and then all at once.

"I-I-I do-don't wan-n-n-a le-eave yo-u guy's...." My voice echoed as Tinsley and Wanda rose me from my falling position and onto my back on the floor.

"Count to ten!" Martha said, dabbing my face with a freshly watered cloth.

"On-e." And so I counted. It took me a bit more then ten seconds to reencounter my sanity, but as I took another swallowing breath, they sat me up.

"We understand your leave..." Tinsley began, combing through my hair that had yet to be done as I slouched forward towards the carpet. "...but the selection is nearly over and the incident with Willow? She'll always be after you, considering her threat. If you leave or stay..." She stopped, realizing my answer was decided. I wasn't staying.

The limousine was asked to arrive by noon, and being as the suns been up for several hours, my time was limited. My hairs down, in long sharp curls touching the small of my back. Such a change since my makeover when I first arrived, it being cut at my shoulders. My makeup a done in soft nude colors, as I'd want to be recognized once I reach Atlin.

The goodbyes with my maids were solid as I couldn't find myself to whine anymore. Wanda had to have hurt the most, having more of a connection with me then the others. She squeezed my ribs, kissing my forehead several times as her dark skin radiated from the window behind me.

"I'll miss you guys..." I said, handing my luggage off to the guard who did as commanded and took them down stairs."I'll miss the warm baths...the beautiful dresses..." I grab the pink frill of my gown. "...the inspirational talks before a date...the way I hated you guys calling me mam." I forced a smile. "I love you all...and your all destined for greatness."

I blew them a soft kiss, and pulled shut the door behind me. The selected's hall was quiet. When I arrived thirty five beautiful women came to swoon the prince, and slowly thirty-two got knocked off, leaving China, Arena, and myself. If I could go back to room 35 and tell ditzy naive Delilah of the adventure an the circumstances, she'd be surprised not a doubt. I wasn't supposed to he past the first week.

I trot down the phylum of stairs, looking at the painted canvas behind the golden frames of the Schreave family. One was of Hero and Everette at their wedding, their gleeful expressions pumped my cardiac supply. Another was new, but not a doubt romantic, of Aria and Marsh's post-wedding pictures. Then there was Alexandrea's newborn photographs and in the corner you can see where Hero stuck the new babies ultrasounds in the frame.

Then there was Augustus. It was a pre-selection picture not a doubt. It took place in the women's room as he stood solid and professional in front of thirty-five mannequins presenting the selected's makeover gowns. I could see my solid green day dress in the back, behind Charleston's seductive red one.

It's been an amazing adventure, but all great adventures must come to an end.

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Delilah's good bye chapter! 😭
I wanted to continue, but decided on making it into another chapter since it's so important!
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Go check out my new original "The Male Project"!
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QOTC: If you have any gown in the selection, and you had to design your own, what would it look like?