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Asfaloth was laughing so hard he could barely reply. At least he finally released my wrist, which felt bruised if not broken.
“That’s not a problem, darling sister,” he finally managed to say. “The gown was already ugly—I think you’ve improved on it.”
“I think I have, at that.” Calista did a quick cleaning spell on her own hands but of course she left my dress the way it was. “Don’t look so upset, Cousin,” she told me. “Just do a cleaning spell. Oh wait—I forgot—you can’t.” She laughed cruelly. “I suppose you’ll just have to get married in a dirty sack.”
“It doesn’t matter—I’m sure Liath Blackthorn will tear it off her as soon as he gets her back to the Winter Court so he can fuck her,” Asfaloth remarked, also laughing. “Come sister—we must be seated at the front. I’m anxious to see if he’ll even have her once he sees her in person.”
“By the Shining Throne—if he doesn’t, we’ll be stuck with her forever.” Calista rolled her eyes expressively. “For I’m sure no one else will have such a fat sow for their wife!”
Laughing at their own wit, my cousins turned and exited my rooms, leaving me fuming. But as usual, there was nothing I could do to retaliate—they had magic and I had none. I could not even clean my own dress or heal my wrist.
I could do nothing but hate them…and wonder uneasily if they were right about my husband-to-be.
3
“Oh, my Princess…” Tansy crept out of the corner where she’d been staying out of the way of Asfaloth and Calista. Brùnaidh are very good at becoming, if not invisible, then extremely unnoticeable during times of conflict or danger.
I didn’t blame my maid for making herself scarce during the confrontation with my cousins. There was only so much that they could do to me—I had royal blood in my veins. But the servants were another matter.
I had seen Asfaloth turn a butler who displeased him inside out—literally—his organs were on the outside of his body when my cousin was done with him. I’ll never forget the muffled screams of terror and agony or the sight of his beating heart clearly visible on the outside of his chest.
He didn’t live for long.
Tansy swept away the mass of ugly, wilted flowers and set about trying to clean my wedding dress. But though her cleaning skills were second to none— Brùnaidh are excellent at household magic—the damp, putrid spot wouldn’t come off. I wondered if Calista had put a staying charm on the dirt as she ground it into my gown. It would be like her to add that extra little bit of malfeasance to her magic.
“Stop,” I said at last. “The ceremony is in fifteen minutes and this isn’t working.”
“Please, my Princess—let me try once more,” Tansy pleaded. “You can’t go out there with a great huge spot on your gown.”
“Then I won’t,” I said. Reaching down, I grabbed handfuls of the frothy white fabric and began pulling it up and over my head.
“Oh, Princess—what are you doing?” Tansy exclaimed.
“Taking this damn thing off. Come on—help me!” I demanded, my voice coming out muffled because of the yards and yards of white fabric and lace and bows.
Reluctantly, Tansy helped me pull the sack-like dress off and I promptly discarded it, leaving it in a heap on the floor. Then I looked in the mirror again. As I had hoped, the stain didn’t extend to the silky underslip, which was still a pure, pristine white.
I hated white. White made me look twice as big—made my wide hips even wider, my large behind enormous. Not to mention that the underslip was thin enough that you could see the obscenely dark rings of my areolas and my too-large nipples poking at the silky fabric.
“Tansy,” I said. “I need this to be a different color.”
“The underslip? Whyever for, my Princess?” she asked, clearly confused. Then a look of understanding came over her face. “Oh no—no! You’re not thinking of just wearing the underslip as a wedding dress, are you?”
“Of course I am,” I said stoutly. “I have no other garments that will work for the ceremony and no time to change into them even if I did. But we do have time for you to change the color of the underslip.” I gave her a pleading look. “Please, Tansy—you know I can’t do it myself.”
“But my Princess, it’s so…so revealing!” she protested.
“It’s no more revealing than anything the other Fae maidens wear at Court and you know it,” I told her. “It’s just that they have less to reveal.” I looked again at the way the thin silk sheath clung to my curves. “Liath Blackthorn ought to know what he’s getting. Don’t you think?”
In the back of my mind, I was thinking that if he saw how different I was from the other maidens—how thick and un-sylph-like—he might leave me alone on our wedding night. But also, I was tired of hiding my curves.
