Page 104 of Settle Down, Princess

“What’s that?” Fern asked, crouching down beside me. “Looks fancy, but it’s not a dress.”

“This?” I turned towards her, my eyes shining with a dangerous light. “This is something the women in my family gave me. They didn’t send me to my death unarmed. I haven’t looked at it, don’t know what its contents are, but they said…” I sucked in a breath, feeling the vestiges of my conditioning rise and then fall to pieces, never to bother me again. “In it are the means to kill a king.”

Chapter 60

Another milestone in my life, another dress, I thought as Fern dragged a particularly fine one from my bags.

“Oh, this one, Jess…”

I took in the shimmering sheath of pale turquoise blue. Tiny gemstones had been embroidered all over the bodice, less and less peppering the folds of the full skirts. It was entirely too formal for a feast, but then I remembered Silas’ words. Take your pleasures where you find them, as they might not be there tomorrow. I watched Fern’s face light up and knew this.

“You should wear it.”

“What? No, I couldn’t—”

“Of course you can,” I said. I took the dress from her now limp fingers and held it up against her, looking at her colouring against the blue then tossing it on the bed. “Though perhaps not this one. The blue washes you out.”

“Oh…”

I caught her longing look at the dress and then smiled as I dropped down to sort through the bags. Red, no. Orange? Gods, who thought to pack an orange dress? It was a colour that looked amazing on the ebon skins of the women from the far-flung kingdoms but few others. Ahh, green. I pulled out a long, flowing dress made from a soft grey green that I knew would be perfect the moment I had it free. Any disappointment on Fern’s face was quickly replaced with this.

I knew that hunger. When you saw something beautiful and you lusted after it with your entire heart. I’d felt the same way when I first caught sight of my ‘wedding’ dress, being able to see clearly in my mind how it would look. Right then, I was sure Fern did the same at the sight of this dress. Little emeralds dotted the bodice, glimmering in the lamplight, throwing small points of green on her face as I brought the dress closer.

“Fern… this one.”

Her hands rose, fell, and rose again. She shot me a sheepish look, then a great big smile split her face.

“Oh, Jess… It’s so beautiful.”

“Then try it on,” I urged, handing it to her. “Please. For me?”

How could I be focused on dresses in a moment like this? What else could I do? Arik’s words reverberated around and around in my head, and with each repetition, they got louder. No, no, no, they seemed to say. No hope. No future. No dreaming of something better. Just no. But when Fern said yes to the dress, I felt a flicker of hope that would not be denied.

I hated that Ariel was forced to endure such a death. I hated Magnus for being the one to give the order for such a despicable thing. I understood why Arik resigned himself to his fate, because for all my life, I’d done exactly that. Worn my veil. Spoke only when spoken to. I was a good girl, and where the hell had that gotten me? Arik was still wearing his veil. No, more like a hair shirt, the guilt of so much pain rubbing him raw every day until he forgot the fact that he could take it off. I nodded sharply, then pressed the dress into Fern’s hands. I would have to be the one that reminded him he could.

But first, this.

Moments later, I was tightening the laces of Fern’s dress, much to her gasping dismay.

“How on earth do Stormarian women breathe in these things?” she asked.

“You don’t.” I smiled. “Or rather, just shallow little breaths. You get used to it after a while.” I loosened the laces a little, and she sucked a breath in greedily. “Beauty is pain, my dear Fern.”

“I’m understanding that now, but…”

An old looking glass had been set on the wall of our room. It had a fine crack running along one side and the silvered back was starting to peel away, but I caught the moment she saw herself. Fern stopped still before the glass, staring at her reflection, unable to believe it was her. I smiled.

Imagine a world where all women could experience such joy, my mind thought furiously. Imagine one where every single one felt as beautiful as Fern did now. Her hands slid restively over her hips, her waist, even her breasts, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing until she touched it herself. Imagine a world where women had the freedom to seek their ideal of beauty in any way they saw fit, using dress and hair and cosmetics as an expression of that. I nodded slowly, then came forward, putting my hands on her shoulders.

“You might not take a full breath tonight but look at you, Fern. Look at you.”

Her eyes met mine in the mirror and then she smiled, a little tremulous thing followed by a big broad grin.

“Look at me?” She spun around, and I saw her look of pleasure as her skirts flared out. “Look at you! We need to get you ready.”

“Fern, what’s holding you…”

Several of the other women whose prospective mates were competing in the games appeared in the doorway, but whatever they had to say was cut off by the sight of Fern.

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