“Wonderful! We can sort you out.”
Clapping her hands, three assistants appeared from behind a set of curtains and quickly ushered me further into the shop and
into a dressing room surrounded by mirrors. They made quick work of taking my measurements and asking me questions about
what colours I liked the most and what went best with my complexion.
“Yes, I believe a soft pink with silver would look absolutely magnificent on you, your highness.”
“Pink?” I replied, looking at myself in one of the mirrors as an assistant leaned against my body in different shades of pink,
which to me all looked the same.
I didn’t get a reply as Talia and the seamstress went off discussing what Gelda should wear as she needed to be seen.
Rolling my eyes, once alone, I shooed the assistant away gently and threw on my cloak. As much as my feet did ache, I
wanted to get out of here and go to the stores I liked and not be poked or prodded anymore.
“Ornella, where are you going?” Talia shouted as I reached the front door.
“Don’t worry, I will be back in a little bit. I need to go to the apothecary for some ointment.”
I didn’t wait for her to contest, so I headed out the door. Marcus looked at me as I stepped out with a questioning but all-
knowing look. He knew he could follow me but was to stay further back and leave me to do as I pleased.
Heading to the apothecary, I did in fact need ointment for my hands, as I had run out of the cream my mother had given me
on my last birthday. It smelt faintly of red roses and lemons, an odd combination that worked well together.
Looking across from the square, I could see the seamstress shop and dreaded going back in there. I didn’t need a gown for
the festival, I owned plenty that I’d never worn before. Talia just needed an excuse for me to play dress up, and I understood it
was her way of showing me she cared. I just didn’t fancy it today.
“Flower for our princess?”
That voice.
Turning around, a hand extended out towards me with a single white rose with lilac tips, something I’d never seen before.
Looking up at the person who owned the hand, it was the man from the courtyard who smiled back at me with a cunning grin.
“What an interesting colour,” I spoke gently as I extended my hand. “Thank you, my lord.”
Taking the flower, I smelled the floral fragrance, and I felt a fuzzy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Butterflies? No, surely
not. No male had ever really paid much attention to me, I always seemed off limits, unless they had been forced to dance with
me.
Most males would look at me and see the forbidden fruit—someone they could lust from afar. Talia was very lucky, she
didn’t need to deal with any of this. At least not for another four, possibly five years. But sadly, once she came of age, she
would be bombed with lust and unwanted affection.