The Dragon Prince's Flower

chapter 8

Hours until the ball, and Daliah's anxiety climbed with each passing minute. Her heart thumped in her chest, keeping time to every passing second. The dry lump that was forming in her throat as her maids dressed her in a silver gown adorned with diamonds, sapphires, and amethyst gemstones across the hips and bust, forming a heart across her chest. She fixed the cuff of her sleeves, adjusting them to the top of her elbow through the lace that draped down to her wrists and into long tails. Daliah hoped to herself no one stepped on the lace as she folded her hands over her stomach, sucking in for the maid to lace the corset back tightly. With a few grunts and merciless tugs, the corset was fitted, and the dress was snug. The old woman laced the corset strings into a neat little bow at the bottom of the corset.

"All ready, Your Highness." She said curtly, giving a quick curtsy before excusing herself along with her gaggle of maids, leaving Daliah alone to look herself in the reflection. Her black hair was tied into braids that formed a knot in the back, leaving half her hair to the freedom of the wind. The braids were littered with delicate little jewels matching her dress, and her lips were painting a stunning shade of dark brown, her eyes dusted with a purple and blue powder and a liner that accented the soft almond shape of her eyes.

She hated it. She couldn't understand what her problem was. She loved her people. She loved being the princess of such a prestigious nation, her friends, and even her family on some days. No matter how much she tried, she hated the stifling moments of fancy gatherings and the prospect of meeting....a future husband. She sneered at the mere thought, but a flash of green eyes in the back of her mind and the rush of heat in her skin made her reconsider, but only for him.

Daliah took a deep breath in and closed her eyes for a moment, all she could see was black, and when she concentrated, green.

The scent of leather and something she couldn't quite place. The feel of his rough but tender hands across her skin and hands, how delicate he was with her, even when the heat of bloodrush tainted his face and neck a slight shade of pink. His breath was in her hair as he asked her his questions. She found herself longing to see him. Something about him intrigued her to her very core, and something in her told her, screamed at her, to find out who he was, the pull urged her to go out the door. Daliah concentrated deliberately in the pull, it felt as if it were sentient, a living thing begging to see her, pleading on its knees to see her. She couldn't explain it, not one bit.

Daliah opened her eyes and looked toward her bedroom door and back at her own reflection. She held her chin high, took a deep breath in and out, and opened the heavy wooden box, glossy and pristine, to look at the silver mask she was meant to wear. Daliah admired the mask, with more matching jewels to complete the outfit. Ivy in a braided eyeglass shape, fitted with pointed arches and delicate curves of leaves and flowers with the multicolored jewels to frame her face an elegant and mysterious fashion. Daliah smiled at herself in the mirror as a half-hearted effort to compose herself, and donned the mask. She clipped the mask sides to her hair, fitting the mask like a mold to her face.

A knock at the door startled her just as she began to have doubts about the whole affair, how could she appear content to find a suitor when someone else drew her heart and mind? The door swung open, and Queen Liana strolled in, smiling widely at Daliah.

"Ohhhh! Look at how beautiful you are." Queen Liana said sweetly, dusting Daliah's sleeves, pulling the crooked shoulder of her dress down to around Daliah's arm in a straight line.

"Mother, quit your fussing. I'm ready." Daliah said resolute in herself. She knew she couldn't escape this, no matter how badly she wanted to. Another knock at the door behind Liana made Daliah tense.

"Sister, it is time." Icarus said, letting himself in. He strode in wearing a very clean-cut black suit embellished with gold and jewels, dripping with regal splendor beffiting a prince of his station.