As I suspected from the measurements she’d written down weeks ago, the material gaped over my waist, pinched my chest, and fit so tight over my arse that it’d rip clean in two if I tried to sit down.
I didn’t need a mirror to know I looked awful.
Melody hummed while she pinned the bottom hem short enough that you could see the laces on my boots. “I’d really like the skirt longer.”
Something sharp jabbed my ankle. “Nonsense. This is the perfect length,” she countered. When she stood once more and took a step back to admire the atrocious gown, saying how perfect it was, something inside me snapped.
“It’s not perfect, Melody. It’s hideous.” The poofy sleeves made crossing my arms impossible, so I settled my hands on my hips instead, mostly to prove that, despite being “thin as a post” I did, in fact, own a pair of hips. “You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said since the moment we hired you. I will not wear this dress.”
Melody tossed her long white locks over her shoulders with an exasperated huff. “What am I supposed to do with it? The fabric alone is worth a small fortune, and I have been working all week on this when I could’ve been doing something important.”
She could throw the monstrosity into a fire for all I cared. “Let me know how much it cost and I will reimburse you for your time.”
“I have never been treated so poorly. I demand to speak to the prince.”
“You don’t get to speak to my fiancé. You get to speak to me.”
Her face turned red as a tomato. She ripped her bag off the ground, tossed in the pins and shears, and stomped for the door.
The nerve of that wretched woman. The wedding was in fourteen days, and now I had nothing to wear. I’d married Tadhg once in a blood-drenched gown, he wouldn’t care. But I did. I wanted to look well for him. For him to be proud of me standing at his side in front of his people.
His people who despised me.
I reached for the buttons at the back of the dress but couldn’t unfasten them.
After the day I’d had, I needed a bloody drink.
I stalked out of the room and down the hallway to the parlor.
When I threw myself onto the settee, a terrible ripping sound echoed through the air. Without looking, I knew my arse was hanging clean out of the back.Bloody Melody. I tilted the bottle of wine left on the coffee table into an empty glass. It wasn’t until I heard a quiet curse from the wingback that I realized I wasn’t alone. Rían shrank lower in his chair, looking as if he wanted to crawl inside the pages of the book in his lap.
When he caught me scowling at him, his own eyes widened, sweeping down the monstrosity clinging to my body. “What the hell are you wearing?”
I picked up the corner of my ruffled skirt and let it fall. “My wedding dress. Isn’t it beautiful?”
“Looks like a child sewed it together.”
I took an angry sip of wine and forced myself to swallow the revolting liquid. “Yes, well, it appears as though the seamstress your brother suggested is a fraud.”
“Who did he hire?”
“Melody.”
Rían sniggered.
My head fell back against the settee. “Everyone in this bloody kingdom despises me.”
“And?”
Leave it to this ass to not understand basic manners. “And most people would try to make me feel better.”
“Your feelings are none of my concern. Why do you care what they think, anyway?”
“Unlike you, I do not wish for everyone to hate me.”
At that, he sneered. “What did you expect? You’re a human who has stolen the most eligible man in Tearmann. Women have been salivating over my brother for centuries and yet he has never settled down. Now he’s married you, what? Twelve times?”
Rían knew exactly how many times we’d been married. “Twice.”