I don’t know what I expected when I’m finally revealed. A weird look? A smirk? A look of horror? Alesta shows none of those. Instead, she hardly reacts as she slowly moves around me, her gaze sweeping over my curves with a critical, almost indifferent glance.
“This dress should fit you nicely. We might have to take it in a bit at the waist and flare it a bit at the hip, but the top should suit you well.”
“Wait? What?” I turn to look at her as she moves away to the bed. “What dress?”
I stare in horror at a wispy bit of cloth that she lifts into the air for me to approve. Its color is rich as a field of lavender, yet I can easily see her fingers though the other side of the fabric. “Where is the underdress?”
Alesta laughs. “There is none.”
I back away, arms outstretched. “No. No way. That thing is see-through.”
She actually rolls her eyes at me. “Of course it is. Did you honestly think you would be allowed to wear that offensive uniform when you meet the king?”
“Well…” I had held out hope, but even I knew it wouldn’t be allowed. But this… this goes way too far. “I’m not wearing that.”
She turns and lifts a smaller triangle of fabric, darker and more solid-looking. “This goes with it. It will conceal you.”
“And the top?” I peer over her shoulder at the flimsy bit of silk.
She winces and shakes her head. I grit my teeth and close my eyes. “This is beyond my worst nightmare.”
I jerk when her hand falls lightly upon my arm. “I know this isn’t my place, but I think you will look radiant in this.”
“I don’t want to look radiant,” I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest. “I want to look fierce.”
A tiny smirk tugs at the corners of my servant’s lips. “Perhaps we can do both.”
I stare at myself in the mirror, amazed at the transformation. The halter is low-cut, hugging perfectly to the curves of my chest. Delicate swatches of white fabric drape across my upper arm.
My neck looks long with my hair swept up into a mass of curls, adorning my head with beautiful multi-colored jewel clips that make my eyes sparkle. A single purple jewel nestles in the hollow of my neck. Its color is vivid, its surface veined with black.
Alesta worked her magic on my eyes, lining them with thick black around my eyelids. She used a charcoal-gray powder to highlight my eyelids. They shimmer with hidden silver flecks. My lips are a deep crimson, bold and fierce, just as I asked.
The skirt falls at my hip, dipping low into a V below my belly button. The gossamer fabric shows off the length and grace of my legs that I hadn’t realized I possessed. My feet are encased in slippers of shimmering silver. The three-inch heels draw lines of definition on my calves. Zahra would kill for a pair of heels like these, I think absently as I turn to look at myself.
Alesta was right. The scrap of fabric she gave me does an adequate job concealing me, although it does nothing for my backside or my chest. I chew on my lip, dreading stepping outside that door. “People will stare,” I mutter under my breath.
“Of course they will,” Alesta says as she pinches my cheeks to revive some color. Not that I’m going to need it. The moment the first person lays eyes on me, I will be red as a beet. “You are the future queen. You demand attention.”
“Please tell me I don’t have to wear this long.” I turn to look at her, hearing the pleading in my voice.
Her eyes widen in surprise. “If you don’t like the color, I can select another one. There are plenty to choose from.”
My heart rises in my throat. “More?”
“Of course.” She laughs, teasing my hair. She has primped for nearly half an hour. “King Aloysius had an entire wardrobe made for you.”
“Of course he did,” I grumble and wave her off. “What now? Do I just wait here?”
Alesta grins. “We’ll be arriving shortly. I thought you might like to view our landing from the main deck. The view from there is spectacular.”
She doesn’t wait for me to protest or ask just how many other people will be taking in the view as she tugs on my hand and keys in a code at the door. The door hisses open and I’m blasted with a cool breeze that makes me shiver. Space is cold.
Two guards turn from their posts at the door and stand shoulder to shoulder before us, blocking our path. I watch as heat stains the neck of the one on the right and feel my own blush rushing over my body as he dips his gaze toward my chest, lingering. Alesta clears her throat. “I am taking her to the main deck for the viewing.”
The soldier who remained coolly indifferent to my painful state of undress shakes his head, his laser gun lowered. “Drakon’s orders are that she remains here until we land.”