𝙱𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚃𝚘 𝚆𝚊𝚛

Chapter 8: The Planning

  “I really think this dress style will look ravishing on you dear, don’t you agree?” We sat in the dining room. Her Highness had summoned a wedding planner, designer, chef, and some of the royal maids so we could figure out what everyone was going to do to help with the wedding. It was all coming too soon. What felt like a day going by was actually one week. I looked at the picture of the dress my mom showed me. I did think it was beautiful, but it was too form-fitting for my liking. I shook my head in disapproval. 

        “I’d prefer something a little more puffy on the bottom? I like the tight waist, but if I'm going to be in the royal family I don't want to come off as... what would you say, slutty? Or wear a dress that shows my body off to much?” Queen Victoria nodded in approval.

        “Fine, fine.” My mom complained. She sighed and gave the photo back to the designer. The designer looked back into his binder of dresses, flipping through puffy dresses, short-looking summer dresses until I spotted one. 

        “No no no, go back!” I ushered him. He flipped back a few pages and smiled, showing me my prize. It was stunning. It was perfect. It was me.

        “You like this one, Miss?” I smiled dreamily at it. 

        “Yes,” I turned to my mom and the queen with a pleading look. “Please, this is the one I just know it.” They looked at each other and then at the picture. That was the first time I ever really saw the queen smile. 

        “I love it, Bliss. It suits you.” Her eyes sparkled with admiration and I could tell she was thinking about something else. Maybe this dress reminded her of her own wedding. Mom didn't seem to like it though.

        "I don't know, Bliss. The lace is a bit much for me." The designer piped back into the conversation. 
        “It’s a new design I currently produced. You’re the first to see it, and if you pick this one, I could make sure you’re the only one to ever wear it, too.” I pouted my lip at my mom. I could tell she was breaking. Although it didn’t seem like she liked the dress all that much, she couldn’t resist the fact that I’d be the only woman to ever wear this exact dress.

        "Alright, fine." I smiled and hugged her and the queen. For the first time, I was excited to get married. "Yeah, yeah you're welcome. Now, onto decorations." I groaned as Queen Victoria politely dismissed the fashion designer. He scurried away with a bow, already getting to work on his paper notepad. "Now, what color would you like for the decorations sweetheart?" I thought for a second and then remembered the picture of the royal family at the end of the dining room. I looked up at the familiar painting and studied the colors.

        "Why don't we just stick with white and the royal blue of the kingdom crest?" I suggested. That seemed easy enough. Then we wouldn't have to take down all of the decorations that were already in the ballroom. "Easy setup, easy take-down, and we wouldn't have to worry about matching the colors in the ballroom." Victoria nodded to my mom and pointed at me.

        "I like her, Flora," She looked at me now. "I like her a lot." I smiled and blushed. Next was food which didn't really matter to me and then working with the maids to schedule what time I would have to get ready and what type of hairstyle I wanted. You know, the boring stuff. 

        "Well, my work here is done," I said as I got up from my chair. "I assume you've got the rest planned out mom?" 

        "Oh yes, dear." She answered while looking at budget bills. I started walking towards the door when I remembered what I wanted to bring up to mom.

        "Oh, mom. Can the reception be in the garden?" 

        "I suppose that could work. As long as we keep dinner and the dance in the ballroom, that would be easiest." I walked away satisfied with the outcome of the meeting. My hair bounced on my shoulders as I happily skipped back to my room. When I walked in Beckham was reading a book on the couch. I smiled as I approached him and kissed his forehead. We were getting slightly more comfortable with each other with each passing day.