by Riana Lucas
The dress is strapless, a deep red that sparkles and glows when the light hits the material just right because black and red jewels cover the bodice. The jewels stop at the empire waistline, below which are layers and layers of soft chiffon fabric flowing to the ground. And on them are the small red and black jewels like those on the bodice, strategically placed to add elegance to the dress. I can tell without even putting it on how well the style will suit my body. Not only is the dress exquisite, but my fae instincts tell me there is more to the dress than meets the eye and once I put it on I will find other wonderful surprises. I cannot believe I am actually eager to try a dress on.
Willow must sense this, because she places the dress in my hands and gives me a gentle shove in the direction of the washroom, effectively snapping me from my perusal of the garment. I grab the dress and rush to change without uttering a single word.
After I am dressed, I take a moment to enjoy the softness of the cool fabric against my skin. The material is the softest silk and most comfortable cotton all in one. Running my hands over the bodice, I feel the texture of all the tiny jewels, and I smooth them down the waist and sides, lifting and fluffing the soft layers of fabric. A small surprise makes me gasp and smile. My mother has thought of everything, I think as I grab my daggers and strap the sheaths onto my thighs through an opening hidden beneath all of the billowy fabric. Shaking my head at the idea of having room for my weapons, I finally exit the room and present myself to Willow.
“Oh!” Willow's hand flies to her mouth as she stares at me.
“What?” I begin to nervously pat my dress down and begin to raise my hands to my face and hair, worried I messed something up, but Willow rushes to stop me.
“No, don’t touch!” She grabs my hands and leads me back over to the dressing table. “I’m sorry. You look so beautiful, Poppy. You truly look like a princess.”
“I would not know,” I say sarcastically before I can stop myself. Then I cringe and apologize.
Willow laughs. “It’s okay. I understand. Just give me one more minute.”
Before she will allow me to see myself, she makes a few adjustments to my hair and dress and instructs me to close my eyes. I huff about this as well, but I do it. She leads me to the tall full-body mirror alongside the dressing table. Once she turns my body so I’ll be able to get the full effect when I open my eyes, she says, “Okay. Open them when you’re ready.”
Taking one final deep breath, I do as she says. My eyes dart everywhere, trying to take everything in with one sweep. I take in every detail of my hair, face, and dress. After what must have been several minutes, Willow clears her throat to draw my attention. I am reluctant to take my eyes from my reflection, but I do. When our eyes meet, I catch the nervousness in hers but still cannot find words.
I am beautiful.
I know all fae are pretty, but this is different. The makeup Willow has applied is perfect. My cheeks hold a small amount of pink on them, which softens the paleness of my skin and adds a light blush to my cheeks. She has painted my eyes with a thin line of black around the top and bottom of my eyelids, and there is a substance on my eyelashes making them appear longer and thicker. There are also several different shades of red on my eyelids, done in a way that makes the color appear to fade from light to dark. The red color along with the black paint makes my eyes appear slightly larger and brighter. They seem to glow with beauty.
This brings a smile to my face, effectively drawing my attention to my lips. Willow has painted them with a shade of red not too dark and not too light. It is just the right shade of red to bring everything together perfectly and also makes them appear fuller, highlighting the whiteness of my teeth. All of my features are softer and less fierce. I have an ethereal glow that is brighter and more beautiful than before, but still soft and understated. I did not think it was possible.
“Thank you, Willow,” I breathe out softly, not even sure if she can hear me, but for some reason I am unable to raise my voice above a whisper. “I really do look like a princess.”
“Yes, you do. You will make us all so proud, Poppy.” There is a hitch in her voice, and this finally draws my full attention back to her.
“What is the matter? You did a wonderful job. The queen will be so proud.”
“Yes, she will, but not of me. She will be proud of you, Poppy. We’re all so proud of you.”
“I do not understand. Why are you proud of me?”
“You’ve come here and taken your place even though you were not raised here. It would’ve been so easy for you to turn your back on us and go back to the unseelie court. You could’ve even killed our queen and taken over. But you did none of these things. You embraced us and are stepping up to take your place as one of us. You truly are the princess of the seelie court, Poppy.” She smiles proudly at me, and I cannot help but duck my head so I can hide the blush creeping into my cheeks.
“Thank you, Willow. That means a lot to me. I am proud to be a part of this court and to be your friend.”
Before I can even lift my head, I am swept up into a tight embrace. I return the hug with as much fierceness. “I need to go get myself ready now,” she says. We hug for a moment longer before we are interrupted by a light rap on the door. Willow turns to open it, and I quickly check myself in the mirror once again. I hear a faint whisper and assume it is one of the queen’s guards letting us know the time has come for the coronation. The door closes softly once again. I am still checking my appearance in the mirror when I sense the quiet movement behind me. My nerves begin to tingle with an awareness I have had before, but I have not figured out the full depth of yet. My eyes move to the corner of the mirror where I see a figure coming into the reflection behind me. I inhale sharply when our eyes lock.
Chapter Twenty–One
I whirl around so fast I stumble and need to grab the back of the chair to keep from falling. Reed does not even make a move to help me. He is standing about five feet before me and appears frozen in place. I cannot help but to stare back at him. Unknown entities are twirling around in my stomach, and I cannot control them.
This is the first time since the rescue we have been alone together. Between my depression and sleeping, along with my attempt at total distraction by training, we have been surrounded by others the entire time. Now we are alone and unable to speak to each other.
When I realize I am staring, I avert my eyes, busying myself for a moment with smoothing my dress and patting my hair—things out of character for me. As soon as I catch my actions, I quiet my hands, but I still cannot meet Reed’s eyes. He is unusually quiet, and soon I can no longer take the silence. Losing my patience, I glance up at him.
“What?” Without meaning to, my voice rises almost to a shout.
Reed winces before letting out a deep breath. He shakes his head as if he is snapping himself out of profound thoughts then takes another quick breath before finally speaking. “Sorry.”
The room is quiet again, and now I am becoming uncomfortable, which is making me angry at myself. So of course, I continue to take my frustration out on Reed. “Will you stop staring at me like that and say something? What do you want anyway?” I turn from him and begin touching random things on the dressing table to appear busy. The fact that Reed is staring at me is making me self-conscious. My nerves are all over the place, making it hard to concentrate. All I can think about is what he may be thinking about me. Truthfully, I don’t even know what I want those thoughts to be. I want him to think I am pretty, but I am scared he will not, which is making me feel vulnerable and afraid. These feelings are new, and I hate them, which makes me angry at Reed for causing them. Slamming the eye make-up in my hand down on the table, I whirl around and begin to walk toward the door. Reed stops me with a hand on my shoulder.
I freeze at the touch of his warm palm on my bare skin. A small shiver runs up my spine, and I can only hope Reed does not notice it even though I am sure he does. Still confused by all of the emotions he causes in me, I am n
ot ready for him to question me. The sensations are all so new, things I never felt before. My reactions to him are all over the place, things whirl and swim in my stomach making me happy and nauseated all at the same time, and I find myself concerned with how I look and what others think when I never have before.
Standing so close now, I am again reminded of how much taller than me he actually is. When we first met, we did not get this close to each other except during our fight with Holly and his recovery afterwards, but at the time I was too distracted to grasp something like that. Now that I am standing inches from him with my nose at his shoulder, I feel small and delicate for the first time in my life. I lift my eyes up to his and fight another flip of my stomach and shiver. When our eyes meet, the emotion I see in his steals my breath. His eyes are so deep and bright, so beautiful and swimming with emotions I cannot read.
“I’m sorry, Poppy. I didn’t know what to say. You look so different…not like you usually do.” His eyes pull away from mine, and my heart sinks. I was afraid of what he would think, and now I have my answer. He cannot even keep eye contact with me.
I take a deep breath to calm my breaking heart. It does not matter anyway. My appearance is for my court, not for him. I was meant to appear like a princess, which I do. I lift my chin and straighten my back. “What is it you want, Reed? It is time for my coronation, and I do not have time to discuss the way I look.” Reed’s eyes come back to mine, and I recognize sadness in them before he quickly hides the emotion. He replaces it with one of those brilliant smiles on his beautiful lips before he takes a step back and bows elegantly. No longer mesmerized by his eyes, I finally notice what he is wearing.
He is dressed in a dark suit made with fae magic. It is black and elegant with hints of red throughout. When the light hits it just right, it seems to sparkle slightly. The suit fits him perfectly, displaying his broad shoulders and lean waist. It also brings out the shine in his hair and the brightness of his eyes. It appears as if it was fashioned just for him. Just over his left shoulder, the hilt of the Night Sword is peeking out. The light bouncing off the shiny metal, giving Reed an air of danger I am not used to seeing.
“I am here to escort you to the coronation, My Princess.” He straightens from his bow and winks mischievously at me.
This catches me off-guard. I did not plan to be escorted in, much less by Reed. My heart beat speeds up at the idea of walking arm-in-arm with him for all the court to see. My fingers begin to tremble so I place them at my side to still them. “O…Okay. Well…give me one more minute…then we can go.” I turn to the mirror to make sure I appear as I did when Willow left me. With nothing else left to stall the time, I straighten and walk to Reed’s side. He is standing beside the now-open door of my room, waiting for me to join him. Although I do not look directly at him, I can feel his eyes on me, and it makes my nervousness grow.
When I reach him, he stands formally, bending his arm so I can place my hand through it. We walk down the hall slowly, neither of us speaking.
Reed is the first to break the silence. “I feel like I’ve hardly gotten to spend any time with you since I’ve been here. I’ve missed you.”
His admission startles me. I finally look him in the eye and see sadness there, although he is trying to hide it behind his handsome smile.
“I missed you too, Reed. I…”
He cuts me off before I can finish my sentence. “Rho talked about you a lot when we were locked in the dungeon. There were times I felt as if you were with me…” His voice trails off, and his eyes widen slightly when he peers down the hall. He had more to say, but when I glance in the direction of his gaze, I can understand why he decided not to continue his thought.
The queen’s guards line the path to the throne room where the coronation will take place. They are all dressed in their finest attire and standing straight as statues. Their swords are drawn and pointed to the ground as a show of esteem and devotion. My heart swells at the show of respect. I place my hand on Reed’s elbow before closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. While my eyes are still shut, Reed places his warm hand on mine and pulls me close to him. He bends his head down, placing his lips close to my ear, then whispers so softly I am the only one who will hear him. “You are the most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes on, Poppy.”
My eyes shoot open, my face turning toward him, but before I am able to questions his comment, the trumpets sound loudly, marking the beginning of my coronation. Reed tugs me along as we make our way to the throne room, everything I pass a complete blur. My heart is racing, my palms are sweating, and my grip on Reed’s arm has to be painful. However, Reed does not falter. He is steady and strong as he walks me along the corridor to the entrance of the hall. The only thing I am conscious of is Reed’s warm grip on my hand and the constant replay of his words in my head.
Individually, they seem so innocent and simple, but together and coming from Reed, I want them to be so much more, and this scares me. However, the time passes so quickly, and before I know it, we are standing just outside the doors of the queen’s, my mother’s, throne room. I must put my personal feelings, concerns, and questions aside. It is time to officially become the princess of the seelie court and take my place at my mother’s side. Taking one last deep breath, I also look up at Reed one last time. His smile is not his over-exaggerated, brilliant smile but one of pride and joy, and I return it. I am truly happy to have found my home and to be surrounded by those whom I love and who love me as well.
Before I am ready, the door opens before me. The throne room was always a place of beauty and peace, but now it is wondrous. The aroma is the first thing that hits me. When I look further, I can understand why. There must be thousands of bouquets of the most vibrant flowers spread throughout the room. I have never smelled such a powerful and sweet smell or seen such exquisite colors. The next thing I notice is the room is filled to the brim with the fae of the seelie court, all dressed in their finest attire. If I were not viewing them with my own eyes, though I would not believe they were even here; they are all as still and quiet as statues, on one knee, with their heads bowed.
My heart swells at the show of respect and ultimate trust. They are accepting me as their princess, and the honor is beyond words. I look up to see the queen, my mother, awaiting me at the foot of the steps to her throne. When our eyes meet, I recognize the happiness in her eyes as well as a shimmer of tears. She smiles beautifully at me and reaches her hand out in invitation.
I return the smile as Reed and I begin to make our way along the satin runner in the center of the room. As I pass the fae bowing at my feet, they begin to rise and a soft murmur flows to my ears. I know they are surprised by my appearance. Not only are they noticing my hair and makeup, but also the poppy flowers falling from my dress as I walk down the aisle, leaving a trail of soft red petals in my wake. I begin to feel a bit self-conscious when, as if reading my mind, Reed squeezes my hand drawing my attention. He smiles reassuringly at me, and all of my nerves begin to recede once again.
When we finally reach my mother, Reed and I both bow slightly in respect before rising to face her. Reed lifts my hand from his arm to his lips, placing a light kiss on my knuckles. He then places my hand into my mother’s outstretched one and bows once more. Before I can say anything, he is gone, having stepped back to join the audience. I open my mouth to question his quick disappearance, but catch the slight shake of my mother’s head. I straighten my shoulders and lift my chin, silently reminding myself what is happening. I tighten my grip on my mother’s hand; she smiles approvingly. We take the three steps up the dais slowly and with confidence. As we do, I catch a quick glimpse of the two matching thrones resting in front of the massive and exquisite painting upon the wall behind them. Before I can take it all in, we reach the top and turn together to face the court.
Our court.
My eyes sweep over all of the fae gathered, bowing once again to show their respect and acceptance of me as their princess. Almost immedia
tely, I see Reed, Holly, Willow, Gideon, and Thorne amongst them. They all, even Holly, are wearing serious expressions, but the joy lighting their eyes is apparent and, I am sure, reflected in mine. My heart swells with pride and sadness all at once. I wish Rho were standing among them, witnessing this momentous occasion. As the thought enters my mind, I notice Reed’s eyes darken in sadness as well. Somehow he feels my pain. I shift my eyes away from the group, not allowing myself time for those thoughts in this moment.
My mother squeezes my hand again. It is time for her to address the court, and then it will be my turn. “My loyal subjects, please rise and…” The queen’s words fall short when a soft murmur comes from the back of the room, spreading and growing louder. I am unsure of what is going on, but I can feel the mood shift in the air and hear the panic in the voices. I instinctively glance toward Reed and reach for my daggers at the same time. The fabric is irritating now that I need them in an emergency, but at least I managed to fit them into my dress. Reed glances worriedly at me as he grabs his sword, the Night Sword, and begins to make his way toward the entrance of the throne room with the rest of my friends following closely behind. The guards who were lining the hallway before my coronation seem to have found themselves in the throne room with the rest of the court and are now making their way behind my friends while others begin ushering unarmed fae out of one of the side doors.
Before I have a chance to realize what all of the commotion is about, my mother grabs my wrist and begins to pull me toward the painting hanging behind our thrones. I can feel the familiar tingle of fae magic seeping into my arm, and must fight back my instinct to shake her off me violently and jump headfirst into the skirmish beginning in front of my eyes. If our court needs me and my friends need me, I have to do what I can to help them. If our court is under attack, I certainly will not sit idly by while others fight for me. Just as she forcibly pulls me through the painting, I turn back one last time, and I am shocked at what I see.
