Page 10 of Cruel Dynasty

5

Half an hour later, I’d been measured, strapped, tucked, and trussed into an extravagant embroidered gown that weighed approximately an imperial ton. It took two of the shop attendants to help me out of the dressing room and into the salon. Iris gasped when she saw it, but Giles merely pursed his lips.

“The embroidery is hand-sewn and contains approximately one hundred thousand Swarovski crystals,” Christina explained.

That explained the price. I stood awkwardly in front of two full length mirrors. Kerrigan stared back at me. This was her world, not mine. Seeing myself in the wedding gown reminded me of that.

“You look stunning!” Iris got to her feet and moved to study the dress more closely. “What do you think?”

I met Giles' eyes and he imperceptibly shook his head. Apparently, Kerrigan wasn’t a glutton for punishment either. I hoped that meant trying on less extreme gowns.

“It’s a bit much,” I said, not wanting to offend Christina regarding her choice. It was a beautiful gown, even I couldn’t disagree with that. The heavy silk had a silverish hue complemented by an intricate, intersecting pattern of beads and crystals that undoubtedly contributed to its weight. The 3 meter long train probably didn’t help. The dress itself rose high on the neck, which although elegant, felt claustrophobic, especially in the warm salon. And given the hundreds of tiny buttons that ran from the back of my neck to the end of the train, it had taken an eternity to put on. I’d need a small army to help me dress the day of my wedding.

Kerrigan would need a small army on the day of her wedding, I corrected myself.

“I think you’re right. Although you look lovely,” Iris said. She turned to Christina with a warm smile. “Maybe something less…”

“Heavy,” I jumped in, earning a laugh. Even Giles smiled.

The next gown fit that bill and was much more comfortable. Long lace sleeves wrapped delicately down my arms, the lace continuing across the bodice, which stopped just below the bust and flowed down in a cascade of chiffon. It was delicate and airy, easy to move in and elegant. I looked at Giles as I made my way —without anyone’s help — into the salon. Iris lit up again but he snorted.

“People will assume you’re pregnant if you wear that,” he said matter-of-factly.

Iris shot him a scathing look. “Who cares? People already assume that. What matters is if she likes it!”

She turned expectantly toward me, but I was too busy trying to rehinge my jaw. Pregnant?

“People think I’m pregnant,” I stammered, trying to process this information. “Why would people think that?”

“Everyone assumes that with short courtships,” Giles answered for her. “The rumor mill never stops churning.”

“My ‘bump’ was all over the tabloids when we eloped,” Iris said with a sympathetic smile, but real pain glimmered in her eyes. “They didn’t give up until no baby arrived. If there’s no scandal, the press can always cook one up.”

My hand instinctively pressed to my stomach and I grimaced. I couldn’t imagine having stories like that written about me. “So no empire waists?”

“I’d steer clear of them,” Giles advised coolly. “Besides, this doesn’t really say Kerrigan Belmond-Byrd to me.”

“Are you hyphenating?” Iris asked as if to seize on a less painful topic.

“I don’t know,” I admitted with a sigh. “I need to think about it.” I wondered how often I would be using that line in the coming weeks. I wanted to avoid any decisions that might have long-term repercussions for Kerrigan when she returned. I ignored the tiny voice that whispered if in my head.

She would come back and marry Spencer and I would move on and finally be in control of my life.

I tried on a few more dresses, but none met Giles' silent approval.

With each rejected selection, Christina’s smile grew more strained. When she followed me into the dressing room to help me out of the last gown she’d pulled for me to try, she seemed on the verge of tears.

“I have one last dress for you to try on,” she said, and I swallowed a groan.

I waited for her, stripped down to the restrictive corset I’d been stuffed into for this ruse. At least, in underwear, the woman staring back at me felt like me. I slumped onto a tufted stool and reminded myself that it was almost over. I’d even managed to successfully avoid choosing a dress. I doubted I’d be allowed to resist forever, but that would give me time to grill Giles for what Kerrigan would want in a dress.

“Last one.” Christina chirped as she entered carefully carrying a gown. The moment I saw the golden shimmer of its fabric, my heart splintered.

It was the dress. The one I’d spotted when we arrived. The one I’d been grateful to not find in the dressing room. It was the dress I would choose to walk down the aisle.

It wasn’t Kerrigan’s wedding gown. It was mine.

“Just give it a chance,” she said, misreading my expression. “I know it’s not the most traditional in terms of the fabric, but it’s fit for a fairytale.”