The Crown And Her Shadows

chapter 27

Iman woke up groggily, the afternoon sun filtering in through the curtains, casting warm patches of light across the room. She stretched lazily, checking her phone to see it was already past 1 PM. Her body ached slightly from the restless sleep she’d had the night before, thoughts of the scandalous video still lingering in her mind. She sighed and pulled herself out of bed, heading to the kitchen where she found a light breakfast already laid out—fruit, tea, and some freshly baked pastries.

As she sat down to eat, her quiet moment was interrupted by the soft, hurried footsteps of the head maid. The woman, a middle-aged lady with her hair neatly covered in a scarf, entered the room, followed by a small group of younger women. Their presence made the dining room feel suddenly crowded.

"Madam, sir said they are here to help you get ready for the event," the head maid said respectfully, her voice soft but urgent as she bowed her head slightly.

Iman looked up, startled, her eyes darting between the maids and the table. "Already? But it's only 2 PM."

"Yes, but the event is by 3 PM," a familiar voice chimed in before the maid could answer. Nassim appeared, walking in alongside the group, his expression as cool and distant as ever. The maids quickly bowed their heads at his entrance and then retreated from the dining room to give the couple some space.

Iman blinked, her brow furrowed in slight confusion. "Oh…," she muttered, trailing off. She stared down at her food, the thought of getting ready so early weighing on her. "But I don’t want to go," she admitted softly, her voice laced with reluctance.

Nassim’s face hardened slightly at her words. "Look, I don’t want to go either," he said with a sharp edge to his tone, walking around the table. "But Mami and Baba are going to be there, so you’re coming along. No arguments." He didn't wait for a response and left the room without another word.

Iman bit her lip, feeling a pang of frustration as she watched him leave. She finished her breakfast in silence, her appetite dampened by the curt exchange.

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Once she was done eating, Iman reluctantly made her way upstairs, knowing the maids and stylists were already preparing everything for her. As she reached the living room, she found that they had transformed the space into an impromptu dressing room. Mirrors and makeup tables were set up, fabrics were neatly arranged, and the crew of women was buzzing around, arranging everything with quiet efficiency.

They beckoned her to sit, and she obediently settled into the chair, the tension in her body easing as the stylist began to work on her. They started with her makeup, carefully applying foundation, contour, and highlights that brought out the natural beauty of her fair skin. Her eyes were lined with a soft yet dramatic winged eyeliner, and her lips were painted a deep red that contrasted beautifully against the warm tones of her complexion. The stylist then tied her veil—a luxurious, raw silk fabric—around her head. The veil was deep black with a subtle sheen, adding an air of elegance and mystery to her look. It framed her face perfectly, draping gently down her shoulders.

Next came the dress. The maids helped her into it, a stunning black silk gown crafted into a mermaid silhouette. The bodice hugged her form tightly, accentuating her waist and curves before flaring out dramatically at her knees into a flowing skirt that cascaded to the floor. The fabric shimmered slightly under the light, the silk moving like liquid as she walked. The sleeves were fitted, long and elegant, with delicate black lace embroidery that added texture to the otherwise sleek design. The neckline was modest, but the way the dress was tailored emphasized her grace and poise. The hem of the dress trailed behind her, the soft fabric creating a beautiful train that swayed gently with each step.