“But you wouldn’t have been completely miserable the rest of your life?”
She studied my face in the mirror. “If you’re worried about letting your suitors down, you can’t focus on that.”
I pressed my hands to my stomach, holding the dress tight as Neena worked. “I know. It’s just harder than I thought it would be by this point.”
“It’ll become clear. Trust me. And your father and I will support you in whatever choice you make.”
“Thank you.”
“I think this is finally coming together,” Neena commented, stepping back to appraise her work. “If you’re happy, you can take it off, and I’ll have the courier send it back to Allmond.”
Mom nibbled on some apple slices. “I don’t understand why he wouldn’t let you do the sewing. He trusts you to fit it.”
She shrugged. “I just follow orders.”
A quiet knock on the door drew our attention. “Come in,” Neena called, falling into her old role. I wished she could just run my entire life for me. Everything felt easier with her around.
A butler entered and bowed. “Pardon me, Your Highness. There’s some confusion about the suit for one of the gentlemen.”
“Which one?”
“Erik, miss.”
“The translator?” Mom asked.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“I’m coming,” I said, following him out the door.
“Don’t you want to take off the gown?” Neena asked.
“It’ll give me a chance to practice walking in it.”
And it did. It was incredibly heavy, and a little hard to navigate down the stairs. I’d need sturdier heels.
As I approached Erik’s room, I could hear him imploring someone to reconsider. “I am not an Elite. It would be inappropriate.”
I pushed the door open wider, finding him in a suit with chalk lines down the sides and pins in the hem.
“Your Highness,” the tailor said, immediately dropping into a bow.
Erik, however, stared and stared, unable to look away from the dress.
“We’re having a problem coming to terms with his suit, miss.” The tailor motioned to the chalked-up suit.
Erik regained his composure. “I don’t want to confuse anyone by wearing a suit that matches what the Elite are wearing.”
“But you will be walking in the procession, and there will be scores of pictures,” the tailor insisted. “Uniformity is best.”
Erik looked at me, his eyes pleading.
I pressed my fingers to my lips, considering. “Could you give us a moment, please?”
The tailor bowed again and exited, and I crossed to stand in front of Erik.
“It does look rather sharp,” I said with a grin.
“It does,” he admitted. “I’m just not sure it’s proper.”
“What? To look nice for a day?”
“I’m not an Elite. It’s . . . confusing to have me standing with them, looking like them, when I can’t . . . I’m not . . .”
I put a hand on his chest. “The tailor is right. You will want to blend in. A different color of suit wouldn’t help your case here.”
He sighed. “But I’m—”
“What if your tie was a slightly different color?” I offered quickly.
“Is that my only option?”
“Yes. Besides, think of how much your mother will love this.”
He rolled his eyes. “That’s so unfair. You win.”
I clapped my hands. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”
“Of course it was easy for you. You were the one giving the command.”
“I didn’t mean to command you, not really.”
He smirked. “Of course you did. You’re made for it.”
I couldn’t tell if that was a critique or a compliment. “What do you think?” I asked, holding out my arms. “I mean, you have to try to imagine it without all the pins.”
He paused. “You look breathtaking, Eadlyn. I couldn’t even remember what I was so worked up about when you first walked in.”
I fought the blush. “I’ve been wondering if it was too much.”
“It’s perfect. I can see it’s a little different from your usual style, but then again, your typical look isn’t meant to be coronation-day ready.”
I turned around and looked in the mirror. That one sentence made the whole thing so much better.
“Thank you. I think I’ve been overanalyzing it.”
He stood beside me. It was comical, these beautiful clothes, some of the best we’d ever wear, marked in chalk and held by pins. We looked like dolls. “That seems to be a talent of yours.”
I grimaced but nodded. He was right.