Royalty

11| Bride

Chapter 11: Bride (Ella's POV)

I stood there, frozen. Frozen, so that a needle didn't prick me. 

"Lift your arms, please, Miss." I lifted my arms a little so that the seamstress could pin down the dress a little more to alter it to my size. They had added the lace since the last fitting and the dress looked more beautiful if that was even possible. 

My mind trailed off to my conversation with Nicholas last night. He spoke as if he were worried about me. About my health, my safety. Almost about my life. It made me realize that not everyone is going to be happy about this marriage. Kingdoms we don't get along with, people we don't get along with, even some citizens of both kingdoms. They may not like both kingdoms finally reconciling and finding a solution to what has always felt like a never-ending problem. I have to be careful. And so does he. 

"Ow," I shrieked, feeling the prick of a needle on the inside of my arm. 

"My apologies, miss. But I did tell you to lift your arms," she said sheepishly. 

"I apologize," I said, dismissing it and lifting my arms again, higher this time. 

"All right, that's the last of it. We can take this off and by your next fitting, it will be all finished. Would you like help to change out of it?" she asked. 

"That's okay," I smiled. She helped me off the stage-like space in front of the mirror and I went back to the changing room. Because the showroom was also for men's suits, I knew Nicholas was here in the other room having his fitting done. I was tempted to talk to him about the conversation we had last night but I let it go. I threw my hair up in a bun so no pins could get caught on it and then started reaching for the zipper and buttons. 

I got the zipper down and most of the buttons, but I couldn't reach the last one and the dress wasn't going to come off without it being undone. I clicked my tongue in frustration, trying to reach it from the bottom, the top, left, right, everywhere. But this stupid button was in a spot where I could not get ahold of it. 

"Need any help?" 

I looked up, startled at the voice. "What are you doing?!" I asked, wide-eyed, clutching the dress to my chest so it wouldn't slip off. Even though I am wearing a bra. 

"No one's here. I just finished my fitting," he chuckled. 

"What are you standing on?" I questioned. 

"A stool," he shrugged. 

Only we were here today. Our parents didn't come with us, they were preparing for the rehearsal dinner and discussing some things. I came on my own and met Nick here and then we both split up for our fittings. 

"Where's the seamstress?" I whispered. 

"She left. She said you can leave the dress at the front and she'll alter it." 

"She knows you're here?" I asked incredulously. 

"Yeah, I told her not to tell anyone," he smirked. I stared at him in disbelief and he laughed, "I'm joking. She's not aware of my presence." 

"Nicholas, go away. Before someone sees you standing on a stool and peeking into the neighboring dressing room," I said scoldingly. 

"But you need help," he shrugged. 

"I can help myself," I hissed. 

"Is that so?" he arched a brow at me, glancing at the length of the dress that was splayed on the floor, going out from under the door. "That is so long, how on Earth do you move in it?" he asked curiously.