“Of course.” I ignore another loud rip as my gown catches on dead branches. “It is tradition in my kingdom for young ladies to dip their feet in the nearest pond on the morning of their wedding. You really should’ve done your research.” Thankfully, she hadn’t. If she had, then she’d know this was all nonsense.
“But it is almost midmoon now!” the demon girl blurts. “And we could’ve brought a bucket of pond water to your bedchamber for you. There’s really no need to risk ruining your?—”
I gasp as if appalled. “A muddy skirt is nothing compared to angering the Stars, dear girl. Do you wish for me to have bad luck today?” I clutch my heart. “My friend Emelia forgot to dip her feet before her wedding, and do you know what happened?”
The girl pales, shaking her head.
“Her poor husband got hit by a carriage minutes after the ceremony! Would you like to see Lord Tauren get hit by a carriage?” I’ve never had a friend called Emelia, but the way the poor girl gasps is too funny to resist.
“Of course not, Your Highness.” She gathers my skirt with more determination than before. “The pond is not far now, and as long as you’re quick, we’ll have time to fix your dress before the ceremony. You’ll have all the luck you need.”
“Good. An hour of soaking should do the trick.”
“An hour?” She looks close to fainting. Somehow, she manages to stay standing long enough to help me through the curtain of withered trees that border the pond.
The high moon and a dusting of stars reflect in the still water. Reeds sway gently in the night air, accompanied by the soft hooting of an owl and the croaking of frogs.
It’s quite dreamy, actually. Or at least, it was until I stomp through the water, splashing as much mud and algae as I can onto the white tulle of my skirt.
“Princess! Your gown!” my servant yelps from the shore.
Ignoring her, I splash around until the entire lower half of my skirt is soaked with mud. “It’s so lovely in here,” I laugh over her panicking.
I suppose I should feel guilty. The gown really is quite lovely.
Apparently, Girabalt chose it himself after we left his shop yesterday, delivering it a few hours before I woke. It’s nothing like the scandalous ones I tried on. The tulle skirt is wide, and its stiff bodice pushes my breasts up so they look quite appealing. Delicate long sleeves decorate my arms with a lacy flower design.
It’s similar to what I would’ve chosen had I not been so busy trying to torment Tauren. Too bad I’m nowhere near finished with his torment.
“Princess Dahlia, please!” my servant sobs.
Lifting up my skirt, I give her a friendly wave. “Almost finished,” I lie, before I pretend to slip on something and throw myself backwards. Water crashes over my face.
“Princess!”
Guards race towards me. I’m pulled up, coughing and spluttering. Wet hair flops over my face. As I push it out of my eyes, my now-broken tiara falls into my lap.
“Whoops,” I giggle. “How clumsy am I?” The guards help me to my feet, but I squirm out of their grasp a few more times, just for fun, until my once-pure-white gown would look more at home in a swamp.
During my final fall, I reach inside my boot and pull out a flask. Popping off the cap, I fill it with slimy water, making sure to scoop up a tadpole or two for good measure. Before the guards notice, it’s screwed shut and back inside my boot.
I’m a soaked mess by the time they bring me to shore.
“Sorry about that.” I wring out my skirt, chuckling. “Hopefully Tauren won’t mind.”
My servant, now passed out on the forest floor, doesn’t reply.
I make the guards wait until she wakes up before they escort me to the wedding ceremony.
I’ll admit I feel a little bad.
I wasn’t expecting her to fainttwicebecause of what I did. The first time because I fell and ruined my gown in the pond. The second because she woke up and realised my mud-covered gown was not, in fact, a nightmare and that we were already late for the ceremony.
When we finally make it to the outdoor space decorated for the wedding, the poor girl looks like she’s going to faint again.
“It’s alright.” I squeeze her hand. We’re tucked out of sight behind a set of gnarled trees. “I’ll make sure Tauren knows this isn’t your fault.” She looks at me like she doesn’t believe me at all, but before I can convince her, a soft voice touches my side.
“Dahlia?” Claren emerges from the trees. He’s dressed in regal black clothing with an embroidered cape. “What happened to you?” he gasps.
