A Dove's Tale

Chapter 131

Morning dawned gray and cloudy with the promise of rain in the humid air, but it was otherwise very similar to the morning of Chevalier's coronation ceremony, at least for me. Bath treatments, lotions, oils, manicure, pedicure, makeup - I had hours of primping and prepping before I had to put on a gorgeous engagement gown, and I still wasn't sure it was enough. Nobody could look good enough to wear that dress. The white silken material spoke for itself in the plain bodice, which was tight down to the top of my thigh at the front, and a full skirt flared out from a diagonal line across my hips to the small of my back. Long, lacy sleeves with enough solid roses interwoven into the gauzy translucent material hid the scars on my arms, and a pair of white high-heeled shoes completed the ensemble. I'd known the moment I saw it at my first fitting that it would drive Chevalier crazy, and that was before I knew the effect my wardrobe could have on him.

The red dress, the pink dress - neither of them could compare to this.

I stared at myself in the mirror, reminding myself this was not the wedding. It was only the engagement ceremony. We weren't getting married yet.

But the woman in the mirror was wearing a wedding dress. The service would take place in the chapel. A priest officiated, a witness testified, Chevalier and I had to say vows and sign a legal document - this was a wedding. For all intents and purposes, this was a wedding.

"Ready for me to work my magic?" Yves asked, ushered in by Theresa as the rest of the maids left so I could breathe. Except it was getting harder to breathe.

"Hey, Ivetta," Theresa called, waving a hand in front of my face.

I swallowed hard and shook my head. "Sorry." I spun around for Yves to see, hoping I wouldn't pass out before I completed the circle.

"Relax," Theresa said, ushering me to the chair in front of my vanity. "You'll be fine."

"You look beautiful, Ivetta," Yves added as he picked up my hairbrush.

"I just - it's only been a few months since we met..."

"Don't tell me you're getting second thoughts?" Yves asked, his fingers freezing and his sky-blue eyes widening with alarm.

"N-no, it's not that-"

"You keep working," Theresa instructed Yves. "You, take a breath," she told me, prying my white-knuckled hand from my skirt. "Yeah, it's only been a few months, but you've gone through more in that time than most people go through in a lifetime."

"I-I know..."

"Don't move your head," Yves chided me when I tried to nod.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"Nothing's going to change," Theresa continued. "You'll just have a piece of paper saying what everybody already knows."

"Is...is that normally how it is?" I asked Yves tentatively. "Nothing changes after the engagement ceremony?"

"Well, most of the time, it's an arranged marriage, so yes," he said, exchanging the brush for a comb and parting my hair into sections. "After the ceremony, everything goes back to how it was before. The couple is as good as married, and they act that way when they meet at parties, but it's not uncommon for that to be the only time they see each other until the actual wedding."

"They're...as good as married?" I asked in a small voice.

"He won't ask you to do anything you're not comfortable doing," Theresa reassured me.

"Wait. You're not - I mean, you and he haven't - uh - you know-" Yves stammered, his face turning redder and redder with each word until it was almost as red as my face. Theresa smacked him on the shoulder.