A Dove's Tale

Chapter 99

There were far too many people in my room when I was just trying to get dressed.

"Theresa, shut the door!" I exclaimed, darting behind the dressing screen, which was closer than the bathroom. I was still in my chemise and drawers. The doctor, my first embarrassing interruption of the day, followed me.

"Oh, my gosh, it's beautiful!" Theresa squealed.

"I'm sure it is, but I don't need the entire palace watching me dress!"

She poked her head around the dressing screen with a wide grin. "You're going to love it!"

"I would love some privacy, Theresa," I said through gritted teeth, wishing I'd run into the bathroom instead. Then I would have a solid door between me, the horde of seamstresses who burst into my room without so much as knocking, and whoever else thought today was a good day to see me in my undergarments.

"The door's closed," Theresa announced. "Come on, you need to see this."

"Go on. I'm done," the doctor said, his smile deepening his wrinkles. "You're perfectly healthy, and I hope you won't need me again for a long time."

Theresa seized the opportunity, and my wrist, dragging me out from behind the dressing screen and into the crowd. They swarmed me, stripping my chemise and strapping me into a corset before I registered what was happening. A flurry of faces, clothes, and excited voices ensued, and suddenly I was standing in front of my full-length mirror, stunned.

"This...is mine?"

The ball gown was more beautiful than anything I'd imagined. Dark green silk clung to my shoulders with low straps set wide apart, blending into short sleeves of gauzy material in the same dark green. The wide neckline was low cut on the front, but high at the back, with several layers of gauze blossoming from the center of my chest like a rose. Close-fitting silk hugged my torso until it reached my hips, where layers of gauze and more silk bloomed into the floor-length skirt. A pair of silk gloves extending past my elbows, along with silk stockings and high-heeled shoes that were mostly hidden, completed the ensemble. It was alluring, and modest, and fit me like a glove. Not a single scar was visible.

"You really look like a princess," Theresa gasped.

I nodded, dumbstruck.

"It brings out your eyes, your highness," a seamstress with curly blonde hair said, circling me and tapping a finger thoughtfully to her chin. "And the shape and cut compliment your figure wonderfully. King Chevalier has a good eye. The few alterations we had to make don't detract from his original design at all."

"What?" I asked, all the air leaving my lungs in that one syllable.

"Sariel brought us the king's sketch the day after you returned to the palace, your highness," a brunette said, moving in with a tape measure. "It didn't account for your scars, of course, but raising the collar at the back and adding the sleeves and gloves took care of that."

It was a good thing none of the seamstresses bumped me while they took their measurements, because the slightest touch would have knocked me off my feet. Chevalier designed this gorgeous dress for me, and he did it before anything happened to me. That was why Sariel waited to discuss my wardrobe until Chevalier arrived that first day after my lessons. They wanted my input before Sariel took the sketch to the seamstresses. Because as far back as the gala, maybe even earlier, Chevalier knew I'd be by his side at his coronation ceremony.

I think I forgot to breathe until Theresa spoke again.

"Oh, we have a problem," she said, her smile falling. "There's no way anything I can do with your hair would do that dress justice."