I picked up the dress and thought of my mother’s wedding portrait that hung just outside the ballroom. Hopefully, the borrowed dress looked half as good on me. Slipping it on felt, in some small way, like she was here with me. This was what she wanted—no, needed me to do. But I would have been lying if I had said I didn’t have cold feet.
Speaking of, where were my shoes? I opened the armoire to check and see if my mom had sent some. When I bent over to look along the bottom, I got dizzy and sick to my stomach. The piece of chocolate wand I had earlier came back up.
Yuck. It tasted even worse the second time.
It seemed important to both Rexi and Verte that I eat, and it was clear from the sampling of my favorites that they had put a lot of thought into preparing it. I didn’t want their feelings to get hurt, but I was too nervous to keep anything else down. And throwing up on my intended’s feet would not make a very good impression.
I looked out the window. The beast and his handlers were gone. The only thing directly below was a litter of golden retriever pups.
“Here, puppy puppies,” I called, rapping on the open glass.
They all looked up, ears perked, tilting their heads.
“Are you hungry?” I held the tray out the window and tipped it over, allowing the food to fall to the dogs below. They gobbled it rabidly.
With that little piece of ingenuity taken care of, I set the tray back down and restarted my search for shoes. There was one thing I knew for sure: I had a lot of them. “One pair must be around here…”
A twinkle under the bed caught my eye. There’s no elegant way to squat down in a wedding dress, but I managed. Aside from a few dust gerbils, there was a pair of silver slippers with two-inch ruby heels. I loved them on sight.
“They’re gorgeous.” I stroked the sides and felt a little electric charge run down my spine. Setting down the shoes, I lifted my gown and stepped into them. Immediately I felt better; my head even cleared a little.
I lowered my dress. The hem barely grazed the floor, meaning the shoes would stay hidden and no one would see that the ruby clashed with the emeralds sewn onto my dress.
A tepid knock on the door. “Princess, all your guests are waiting. May I come in?” The quiet voice was muffled even further through the wood.
“Yes, Nikko. I’m ready.” And I was. I felt better than I had in days—I think. Putting on those shoes had clicked something into place. Things were going to be all right. I could feel it.
Nikko stepped in the room and gasped.
I chuckled awkwardly and toyed with my skirt. “Hopefully that’s the good kind of shock as opposed to the ‘emperor’s new clothes’ kind.”
His eyes brightened and the corners crinkled in. “I see you found the shoes I snuck in for you.” He stared at me for another moment before his eyes clouded over as if he remembered something. “Have you finished your breakfast?”
I proudly pointed to the empty tray. “Every bite.”
“Then there’s nothing left to do, is there?” Nikko chewed his lower lip, like he wanted to say something else. “I really wish I could be of more help.” His golden bucket hat flashed a bit.
Taking a deep breath, I rolled my shoulders back. “It’s okay. I’m ready. Let’s go.”
Nikko still looked hesitant but held out his arm to escort me. “As you wish.” He led me up the stairs to the top of the tower. Off to the right of the landing, there was a large hole in the marble wall. And just underneath the hole was a single tawny feather.
I picked it up and twirled it through my fingers, playing with the soft, downy end. “What the hex made this hole?”
Nikko stumbled slightly, tripping over his shoelace or something. When he straightened, he said, “A bird, Your Majesty.”
Must have been a big bird.
“There you are! What took you so long? Everyone is waiting.” Rexi hustled toward us. She couldn’t go very fast since she had somehow squeezed herself into a little silver lamé cocktail dress—that was two sizes too small.
“Rexi, please don’t take this the wrong way, but is there any way you could change your clothes? That dress looks really tacky, and your opal necklace, while lovely, is a little much, and the bright red clashes, don’t you think?” I tried to put it as nicely as I could, but still, it had to be said. After all, it was my wedding—the only one I was ever going to have—and I didn’t want anyone looking like they got dressed at the Three Blind Mice Boutique.
Rexi’s jaw dropped so low she looked like a boa constrictor. Nikko turned paler than Snow White’s tuchus and slowly backed away.
She snapped her mouth shut with an audible click. “I’m sorry but that’s not possible; there is simply no time. Here.” Shoving a bouquet of flowers into my hand, she next turned her anger to the man at my side. “What are you staring at, Nikko? Go outside and check on our other royal pain.” Her curled lip attempted to smile sweetly. “I mean guest.” Then she stormed back in the direction she had come from.
“She is so not my maid of honor anymore,” I muttered, fluffing up the flowers in my bouquet. “Ouch.” Blood welled up on my finger from the thorn.