Princess by Nicolette Andrews

Author:Nicolette Andrews [Andrews, Nicolette]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-04-13T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

We were to be married in the Danhadine tradition. I had been allotted a room in the expansive home that Aland had built for himself, his wives and numerous children. A guard was posted outside my door to prevent any escape. Even as Celia brushed through my long black hair, I considered ways I could get away that would not risk Mathias’ life. By turning my back on Lord Herrondell, I felt as if I had turned away from any hope of my own happiness. I could steal Celia’s clothes, get Shadow from the stables, and ride like the wind for the coast. If they did not know who I was, I might be able to blend in. I would be free. It was a ludicrous plot and I knew it. I would not get past the farmhouses before my guards would drag me back kicking and screaming.

“It’s time to put on the dress,” Celia said in a low voice. She sensed my mood and was walking on eggshells around me. I knew she loved weddings, and secretly I’m sure she was giddy, but she was holding back on my account. I should have been grateful, but I was too absorbed in my own misery.

I glowered into the mirror and realized I must have scared her. I forced a smile, but she looked away and patted the dress, which lay on the bed. I wore a robe over my shift. I shed it and prepared to be strapped into my dress. As dresses go, it was not ugly. It was a midnight blue, of House Raleban. The front panel was white with a silver oak tree. Looking at it, I felt a pang of longing for home. I had never belonged in Keisan, yet that had been the only home I knew. That life is behind me. She slid the dress onto my shoulders. It fit well. The sleeves were long and trailed at the wrist. It was heavy but not unbearable. I can’t run in these clothes.

I stared at myself in the mirror. The blue of my gown made my blue eyes shine brightly. The midnight blue did not clash with my skin; instead it complemented it. Celia had managed to tame my unruly curls into some semblance of respectability. A few tendrils fell forward to frame my face. I tucked a curl behind my ear.

“You look beautiful,” Celia said, clapping her hands together. I could see tears gathered in her eyes.

I should treat Celia better. She always thinks of my needs, and I never consider hers. I turned around and hugged her. She was rigid for a moment before she relaxed and returned my embrace.

A knock at the door broke us apart. Celia pulled away from me so she could go and answer. I thought it would be my aunt come to tell me the ceremony was starting. I heard a male voice and the gooseflesh rose on my arm.

“It’s not proper,” Celia said.

I stepped over and placed my hand on her shoulder.

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