Page 6 of Fated to the Wicked King

“At least nobody ought to be losing their heads tonight,” Chez quipped.

“I am quite certain it’s too early to say that.” My shoulders lifted. “This is a man who had lived the past centuries of his life contentedly bathed in deceit and slaughter.”

“Ah!” the Duchess exclaimed, changing the subject. “Either way, I am assured this Grand Ball will be absolutely lovely. And even though I have not received an invitation, I will surely not take this to heart. I will not even dwell on this accidental snubbing at all for even a moment.”

I exchanged a knowing look with Chez. “Surely.”

The Duchess propped her chin on her knuckles, her eyes surveying my appearance. “Well, you certainly can’t go to the ball like that. Your face is covered in soot, ash, and there’s grime all over your clothes, cinder⁠—”

“What?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I already said I’m not going to that—that—monstrosity of a⁠—”

“Why, you cannot remain forever in this stuffy, old tower.” She waved a hand in nonchalance. “Otherwise, you might start to decay yourself. Is that mold on your trousers? We must get you cleaned up right away.”

“No! I am absolutely not going,” I protested. “I mean…” My arms fell slack to my sides, not wanting to exhibit my full apprehension. “I don’t... I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to…see him.”

“Then don’t.” The Duchess gave a curt nod. “If you keep to yourself, perhaps nobody will notice. Just go to the ball, enjoy the festivities, and then come home.” When she snapped her fingers, there was a loud pop, a bright light, a gust of wind—and then I was standing wearing only my shift in the middle of the room.

“Hey!” I covered my body with my arms on instinct.

Startled, Chez’s mouth formed an ‘o’ as he darted his gaze away.

“What the…” My skin hummed, all tingly, freshly scrubbed. No trace of the grime and soot from before. I licked my teeth. “Did you also brush my teeth for me?”

“We don’t have much time.” She snapped her fingers again, and a veil of mist covered my entire body. “The ball begins anon.”

There was a tug at my waist. My eyes widened in disbelief as a tight, deep green bodice of a ball gown, somehow made of the heaviest type of satin and lace, clung to my torso and my hips before billowing out in a cloud-like skirt.

“What the hell, Duchess? What is all this…foofery?”

“Isn’t it fabulous?” She tossed her blonde curls. “This is an old dress of mine. I last wore it to a ball in Veridia—my, but it was a wonderful night. I’d met this lovely man who possessed the most wicked tongue you’ve ever—ah, never mind.”

I resisted the urge to chuckle at the glaze in her eyes.

She waved her hand again. “A story for later.” She cast a critical eye up and down my form. “Anyway, I’ve adjusted this lovely dress to fit you, and of course, added some of my fabulous trimmings to match the occasion. Since I’ve given up my old occupation, I thought I might shift my focus a bit. And I’ve been busy learning new skills for dressmaking magic. I daresay I’m doing quite well.”

I declined to comment. Wrinkling my nose, I busied myself pulling off one too many ribbon embellishments from the foofy dress.

Given the Duchess’s old occupation was helping harvest human hearts for the Red Queen, calling dressmaking a ‘slight departure’ was an absolute understatement.

Chez must have decided it was safe enough to look again. Walking around me, he whistled at my appearance.

I gaped down at the view of, I would say a bit too much of, my chest. “I thought the idea was to stay unnoticed? How can I go to the ball and be discreet, looking like this? For starters, this neckline is way too low.”

“It’s no lower than the other fabulous dress you wore to your last ball at the castle.” She winked, shimmying her shoulders giddily. “Besides, you look ravishing. All the male courtiers won’t be able to keep their eyes off of you.”

“Ah, of course, that’s what I need right now. To be pursued by all the eligible male courtiers.” I kicked at the puffy hemline of the dress. I didn’t want to think about it. I really tried not to, but I couldn’t help my heartbeat racing already at the notion. “Do you think he will sense my presence there?”

As the Duchess was busy surveying my petticoats and adding embellishments here and there, she responded somewhat absently, “You said so yourself. The link between your swapped hearts stopped working many moons ago. The cursed magic has run out. The king would not sense you there any more than you will sense him.”

Self-conscious, I picked at the delicate lace choker around my neck.

Perhaps she finally noticed my mood. The Duchess’s tone turned slow and careful. “We miss him too, Allie.”

“What?” I gaped at her. “Who says I miss anyone? Please. I’ve been perfectly fine. I have my work, and you guys—” I met her glassy blue eyes in the mirror, then glanced over at the hint of despondence in Chez’s purple gaze.

The Duchess, and in fact, Chez too, had been some of the king’s oldest friends before he took the throne. But it seemed His Majesty was intent on turning his back on everything from his past.

Unwilling to get dragged through overwhelming emotions all over again by rehashing the past, I swallowed the lump in my throat. It was so very much easier to settle on dismissal, nonchalance. “He made his decision a long time ago. That is all in the past. We must move on. All of us.” Clearing my throat, I tossed the hem of the dress carelessly. “I suppose it is not a crime to go out and enjoy oneself every once in a while. And it is a…very fine gown.”