Page 48 of The Madman and his broken Princess
“Let’s put this on so I can see if I need to make any last-minute adjustments.”
She helped me undress to my underwear, then pulled out lace panties from the clothing bag. They were sheer in the back and in the front, except for a lace rose covering my most private area. I flushed as I picked them up. These little nothings wouldn’t cover much. “What about a bra?”
“The dress doesn’t allow for one.”
She gave me an understanding smile, then turned her back to me and hung the dress by the hanger on the doorframe. I quickly removed my underwear and put on the panties, then covered my breasts with my hands. “You can turn around.”
She turned with a kind smile, then moved to my side with the petticoat. “There’s a nightgown and lingerie in the clothing bag for tonight.”
Tonight. The color drained from my face. Our wedding night.
I had fantasized about sweet lovemaking with Nestore in the past. Even after I’d run away, he’d often appeared in my dreams. It had always been sweet and loving. What Nestore had in mind was far from my fantasy. He wanted to claim me and to prove a point.
The seamstress’s face filled with pity, but she didn’t say anything. I was glad she didn’t try to assure me things would be okay. She knew Nestore, or at least the stories everyone told about him, so there was nothing she could have said to improve my situation.
In the past, I never had reason to fear him, but now that he hated me, nothing could protect me from his wrath anymore. Maybe I could have softened his anger if he’d given me the time to convince him, but he’d avoided me, maybe for that reason. Perhaps he wanted to hold on to his rage to punish me.
After I’d put on the petticoat, the seamstress helped me into the dress. It was heavy and molded my body into a perfect hourglass shape. I never wore turtlenecks, so the high collar felt unfamiliar. At least it wasn’t as tight as the rest of the dress.
“Perfect,” she said with a satisfied nod.
She was right. The dress fit perfectly, and it looked like something straight out of a fairy tale. When I moved the skirt, the diamonds glittered in the light, sending prisms on the walls. The bodice accentuated my breasts but remained modest due to the high collar. I remembered talking about my dream wedding with Nestore when we’d been locked in the basement. I’d described a princess-like dress to him, and this came very close to the vision I’d described back then, minus the collar. I couldn’t help but wonder if this symbolized him chaining me to him.
Heat pressed against my eyeballs, making me blink rapidly in an attempt to contain the tears.
I wished today were like the fairy tale I had imagined. I wished Nestore’s and my story hadn’t taken a dark turn.
“I don’t need to change anything.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ll make room for the stylists now.”
She took my hands and gave me a small smile. “I wish you all the happiness in the world.”
I couldn’t return the smile. “Thank you.”
She left. I stared at myself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. The stylist entered shortly after. She enhanced my natural curls and then put a diadem on my head. She kept my makeup light, as I preferred, and when I finally looked in the mirror, I truly looked like a princess. My fingers trembled as I smoothed them down the skirt of my dress.
“Your shoes,” the stylist reminded me, setting the heels down in front of me. They, too, were adorned with countless crystal gemstones. I slipped them on, wondering how this wedding would play out. I had seen cars arrive in the past hour. Many unfamiliar faces had emerged, dressed in their finest clothes.
The only family I had left, Flavia and my half brother, weren’t invited. Nestore couldn’t forgive her for helping me run. Maybeit was better if she stayed away so she’d be safe from his wrath. She had escaped this place.
“What now?” I asked, as I waited in my dress. The stylist folded her hands in front of her stomach and gave me a stiff smile. “I was told to keep you company until someone picks you up.”
Who would lead me to the altar? I doubted my father was in a state to do so, if he was even still alive.
A knock sounded, and she quickly moved to the door and opened it. Surprise filled me at the sight of Nestore’s cousin, Niccolo, waiting in the doorway. He was dressed in a black tuxedo with a bloodred bow tie and shiny black shoes. His curly chestnut-brown hair was combed back. He gave me a tight smile when he stepped in. That was when I noticed the cascading wedding bouquet in his right hand. He held it out to me. I bridged the distance between us and took it from him. It was a massive bouquet, beautiful but at the same time with an air of… wistfulness. Roses and chrysanthemums in mauve, deep purple, and blush mixed with dark green leaves, creating a Gothic look. I fingered the blush-colored roses. “Are they from the maze?”
Niccolo’s stern expression shifted to something slightly softer. “They are. Nestore insisted they be in the bouquet.”
I wondered why. I got the feeling the maze only symbolized pain for him: the loss of his mother, the trauma of the day she never returned, the knowledge that she was buried somewhere inside the maze.
“Come now. The ceremony is about to begin,” Niccolo said, holding out his arm for me to take.
“You’ll lead me to the altar?” I asked. Considering his open contempt for me, I hadn’t expected it.
“I’m the only family Nestore has left, and your family members are either dead or traitors, so yes, I’ll walk you to the altar.”
I swallowed hard. I slid my arm into his, then gripped the heavy bouquet more firmly.
Niccolo led me into the hallway, then down the staircase to the magnificent entrance hall. Dark red rose petals covered the floor like a carpet and led toward the closed doors of the ballroom, behind which I could hear a low hum of voices.
