Royally Rearranged by St. Clair Emma

Author:St. Clair, Emma [St. Clair, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Comedy, Young Adult
ISBN: 9798549307346
Google: PmKszgEACAAJ
Amazon: B09GZSXQVN
Publisher: Independently published
Published: 2021-09-25T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Serafina

The following morning, I stand outside two double doors, taking the deepest of breaths and counting eight caterpillars. Pasting on a smile, I walk into what could be the dressing area of an exclusive fashion boutique. Apparently, I’m the first to arrive at this dress fitting.

If I weren’t royal, with Kat acting as my fashion consultant, I’d completely dress myself from the internet or one of those monthly subscription services. I absolutely hate shopping and even more, I hate trying things on. Especially with others. There is something so vulnerable about it. I’d rather look at spreadsheets for sure.

The plush red carpet is broken only by a strip of wood flooring stretching out like a catwalk toward three massive mirrors, angled to give full views from every side. White sofas and a few chairs form a semicircle opposite the mirror, near a small raised platform in the center. A few curtained dressing rooms are off to the side and one wall is lined with a hanging rack full of dresses.

Kat would be squealing and sprinting over there to check labels and sizes and run her hands over all the fabric. I’d rather turn and run back out the door.

I stay because this morning’s event isn’t about me. It’s about Callum’s sisters making final choices on their dresses. And as much as I love the princesses, given the current situation, the idea of spending a few hours with them and their typical nosy questions has me wanting to run even more.

The room feels slightly stuffy, perhaps because there are no windows, and I try to recall if I've ever been in here before. Yes—I have a sudden memory of hiding in one of the dressing areas from Callum in a game of hide-and-seek. He never did find me—have I mentioned the Elsinorian palace is rather massive?—and I ended up finding him in the kitchen eating ice cream.

“Serafina!”

“Fi!”

Henri and Juliet practically maul me as I turn toward the door, and we fall laughing in a tangle on the sofa. Which is unfortunately less comfortable than it looks. I almost wish for my donut pillow. Almost.

“Ouch! What is this made of? Cement?”

Juliet laughs as Henri calls, “Mum! This sofa is rubbish!”

Mum?! How did I miss that the queen is coming?

But she’s not only coming, she’s here with the queen mother on her arm and a flurry of servants flanking her carrying drinks and a cart of food. This is not a low-key dress fitting with two girls who are like sisters to me, but an Event.

It feels a bit like an Ambush.

Suddenly the room is even stuffier. I’m like the filling of a sausage, being shoved inside a tight casing. Ew! Horrible image. Aren’t the casings made from intestines or something? And the inside isn’t much better, I’m sure. Strike that thought completely.

I’d thought when the girls invited me to come help them pick dresses that it was just going to be the three of us. Apparently, three’s not a big enough crowd.

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