17 Chapter 17

I woke up the next morning to a new face staring down on me.

"Hello…" I drawled out.

"Kimsan." The lady said with a big smile.

My eyes widened in question and I tilted my head.

Her black eyes were surrounded by wrinkles which rose with her smile. Her silver hair was in a low unadorned bun, and her tunic was not of a maid servant's.

I sat up and studied her further. Her wrinkled, light brown skin had a few spots scattered about it and her nose was pierced with a golden ring. Her tunic was a soft-looking, brown fabric with a purple sash around her waist. My eyebrows rose at this fact. Purple was a symbol of nobility, she must've been a high ranking servant.

"Kimsan." She said again and bowed.

"Heh." I huffed unsure as I stood from my bed.

"Oh, Jamira." I saw Brigitte appear from around the privacy screen, "Apologies, your highness."

"Oh, no, no. It's fine, but who is this?" I asked.

"This is Jamira." She nodded toward the lady who was smiling happily at me.

I smiled back.

"She will be making the proper adjustments to the Ceremonial Union gown."

My head snapped back to where Brigitte was standing, her head bowed.

"Yes," I sighed, "The Union. Do you know when it is?"

"I'm not sure, your highness, but I believe it may be in a week… or two."

I closed my eyes. This was really happening. I was to be chained to the Sovereign through Union.

'I didn't want to do this!' I whined to myself.

I sat down on my bed and put my head in my hands.

Jamira sat next to me and stroked my back saying words in an unfamiliar tongue.

"What is she saying?" I asked Brigitte who was still standing by the screen.

"I'm afraid I don't know, just soothing words I believe. Your highness." She added hastily.

I smiled, glad that she was becoming more casual around me.

"Does she not speak the standard dialect?" I asked.

The standard dialect was the one taught to every child across the entire country of Cadarama. Only few learned to read and much less learned a second language.

"No, I'm afraid she does not. She only speaks in the ancient language, your highness. I know only a few words."

I raised my head and saw that her's was still hung. I could see that her face was drawn in concentration.

I stood suddenly, "When do we start?" I asked.

"As soon as you're ready, your highness." She replied.

I nodded, "Then I'm ready now."

Brigitte nodded and turned to my private closet.

I moved so I was standing in front of that doorway.

I gasped when I saw what Brigitte carried out. The Union gown was beautiful.

It was made of patterned, silver silk with layers of beads and lace sewn into it. The veil was of the same colour and fabric and would probably reach my ankles.

Jamira said something to me while pointing to a spot in front of the mirror.

I stared at her blankly.

"I believe that she wants you to stand there, your highness." Brigitte said.

"Oh!" I exclaimed with a laugh, "Yes, that makes sense."

I smiled at Jamira and went to the place in front of the tall mirror.

Clara came in a few moments later to help Jamira with dressing me, at first I was upset about always having to be dressed by other people, but I soon realized that I would never be able to dress myself in these ridiculously elaborate dresses with all of their layers and strings.

They took off my night apparel and put an underdress on, then an elaborate corset with gold and blue embroidery. Overtop of that they put a skirt made of a stiff, white fabric to rest on my hips. Next was the bridal gown. The gown itself was rather simple. The embroidery and the lace woven into it was spectacular but it seemed to lack some of that grandeur that the nobilities always demonstrated.

Jamira began to make adjustments here and there. She tucked in the waist and the hem of the dress.

My legs were getting tired from standing for so long, and I realized that I had not even had my morning meal.

I slumped my shoulders and let out a tired breath.

"Al toru." Jamira said, which I'd learned meant "Stand up." I straightened and looked outside the window at the gardens.

I wondered if the Sovereign fulfilled his part of the deal and let the untainted girls go home, and arranged marriage for the tainted ones.

I could only hope that he had and not dwell on such dismal thoughts.

The neck of the dress itself was very low, to the point that I wanted it to be pulled up.

"Jamira," I called, the woman looked at me, "Could you pull the neckline up, please." I demonstrated what I wanted with my hands.

She just shook her head and began saying, "Jis rial." Over and over again.

I bit my tongue and decided that I would not ask for anymore adjustments.

Once the gown had been finished Jamira then moved onto the veil. It was heavy, being weighed down by the heavy fabric and the dangling jewels.

She hemmed it so it only reached the last couple inches of the gown.

I looked at my reflection. My eyes were hollow. I felt tired. I didn't want to play this game, this game of politics and life.

But, I swore that the Sovereign will pay for what he has done.

He has to.