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All my life I’d been told how fat and ugly I was and the seamstress was always trying to hide my body away, as though it was a shameful thing which must not be seen in polite company.
At that moment, I didn’t care anymore. They all thought I was ugly? Fine—I was finished hiding it. Finished swathing myself in voluminous clothes to keep from disgusting them. Let the whole Summer Court see me as I really was on this, the last day I would ever spend among them. Let them choke on their own tongues when they saw me flaunt my curves!
“My Princess,” Tansy said in a low voice. “Are you…sure about this?”
“Quite sure,” I told her. “Turn it a different color—turn it black!”
“Oh not black, surely! It will seem to your new husband as though you are mourning your marriage!” she objected. “Why can it not remain white? What if he thinks…thinks you are not a virgin?” she whispered, her eyes wide.
“I don’t care what he thinks,” I said recklessly. “I will not wear a white gown—you can see all my bits through it,” I added, appealing to her sense of modesty as I pointed to my breasts.
This seemed to change Tansy’s mind.
“Well…” She sighed deeply. “All right. But I won’t make it black. The best I can do is to have it match your eyes. Here…”
She waved her hands and said some words under her breath—a brùnaidh cantrip that went something like:
“Change it now,
Change it how
The Princess wants
Not how she shan’ts
White isn’t right
It’s such a fright
Make it gray
To match the sea
To match her eyes
To make her free.”
I felt the familiar tingle of her magic against my skin—rather like a coarse bristled scrubbing brush rubbing me everywhere, if that makes sense. The sensation was uncomfortable, though not unbearable. It wasn’t nearly as bad as when Calista or Asfaloth worked a spell on me. Their magic felt like stinging insects biting me all over.
The momentary discomfort passed and I looked down to see that the underslip had been turned a smoky gray, the exact color of my eyes, just as Tansy had promised.
The color went well with my pale skin and long, midnight blue hair. It almost matched the bracelet of bruises which were forming on my wrist where Asfaloth had gripped it, I thought grimly. I drew the right sleeve down lower, to hide the injury. I wasn’t going to be able to lift anything heavy with my right hand for some time, but I would heal eventually. I always did.
As for my cheek where Calista had slapped me, it was a bit pinker than the other, but I didn’t think anyone but Tansy and I would notice.
“You look lovely, my Princess,” Tansy said. She spoke in a hushed and reverent voice. I looked in the mirror again and was surprised at what I saw.
For years my seamstress had been dressing me in pastels, for such were the fashions of the Summer Court. I looked dismal in pink and baby blue, lavender caused my skin to look yellow, and mint green just made me look sick. But this deep, smoky gray…it suited me somehow. It showed my curves but slenderized me a bit at the same time, because the dark color was slimming.
I looked at the girl in the mirror and wondered why I hadn’t asked for darker colors years ago. Probably because I was too busy trying to fit in with those who had never wanted me in the first place.
“It’s perfect,” I said decisively. “And if Liath Blackthorn doesn’t like it, too bad. Too bad for the rest of them too—I’m never going to see them again, anyway,” I added.
“Oh, my Princess…” Tansy’s large brown eyes filled with tears. “Are you never coming back then? Not even for a visit?”
“Why would I?” I asked. “My father hates me for killing my mother and my cousins are tyrants—you saw them.” I shook my head. “No—there’s no one here I’ll miss but you, Tansy. And you can come and visit me in the Winter Court if you like. You know the brùnaidh are some of the few Fae who are welcome in both Courts.”
“Thank you, my Princess.” She sniffed and swiped at her eyes. “All right—we must get the flower crown settled on your head. The ceremony is almost starting.”
“Make it gray too,” I said, looking at the crown of pure white lilies which was meant to adorn my hair.
“No,” Tansy said firmly and this time I knew there would be no changing her mind. “No, for your husband-to-be must have some indication that you are a virgin.”
She set great store by my virtue—more than I did myself. I would have been rid of it, if I could—but no noble of the Summer Court would have wanted to help me with that particular task. None of them wished to call down the king’s wrath by sleeping with his daughter—or risk having a baby as chubby as its mother as his offspring, if I should fall pregnant.
