Miavel

Madam Delaine curtsied to me with refined grace and elegant movements.

“If I may,” she added, stepping forward to me, “can I get a good look at you, Your Majesty?”

“Sure. And, it’s an honor to meet you. I’ve heard only the best of your work.”

Not even Tianne had been allowed an appointment with Madam Delaine. As such, it was always a sore subject with her and mother.

And yet, it was hard for them not to praise her work. She'd designed gowns for nobility, for kings and queens. She'd even dressed the highest priest in Remlin, at the main temple. As Remlin was across the seas, her work was quite literally global at this point. She liked to see those she was to put in finery before designing custom gowns and coats, among other things. It was said she had an eye for spotting gold. In her home of Amasan, gold was the highest priced item, no matter the form or shape of it. As long as it was pure, it was a symbol of riches. So, as she had many successes, it was as if she were spotting gold within people.

Madam circled me with a small chuckle.

“You are a delight, truly. In more ways than one. And look at you.” She lifted my arms to see my shape better and nodded approvingly. “I could make dresses for you all day.” She stepped back and clapped her hands twice, calling her tailors over to my side.

“I need measurements, ladies!”

I stood, watching the tailors, as well as Delaine, work. They were precise, in both their directions and the numbers they called out, one by one. Madame Delaine held a bound journal in her hands, glasses perched on her nose, and scribbled down the numbers as they were measured and spoken aloud.

After a few minutes, I was seated, a giant design book on my lap. When I asked about any of the designs, Madam Delaine told me in great detail the answers I was aiming to receive. After fifteen dresses were picked out, the tailor she’d sent out with a piece of paper returned, followed by several palace servants, wheeling in nearly a hundred combined dresses on the three racks. I stood up in my shock.

“If I have guessed correctly, you need several dresses until I can get those designs tailored to your size for wear?”

I nodded and followed her over to the first rack, noting that they were mostly simple lounge dresses, perfect for rest and working on official duties at the desk in my room. Spotting the vibrant greens and yellows next to a few varying colors of pinks and reds. I tugged on the hanger of the brightest of the yellows. Standing near me, Madam Delaine nodded to one of her tailors, who then came over and put the dress on an empty rack. We worked that way, silently, with her letting me choose the dresses that called to me. By the time I was finished, seven dresses were on the new rack, and the one I’d been looking at was just slightly duller in color than before.

“Alright. And now,” Madam Delaine waved her hand to exchange the rack in front of me with the second and third as she spoke, “you’ll need at least a few dressier gowns for official duties and parties, as those dresses will take longer for us to make and tailor.”

Without any further introduction, I dove into the dresses, finding the next just as interesting and amazing as the one before it. Madam Delaine was truly a force to be reckoned with. No two dresses were the same. No two colors the same either. All were stunning. Slowly, my purchase rack filled up.

After, I tried on the dresses, one by one, in case anything needed minor stitching or to be set aside to return with Madam Delaine until it was tailored just for me. Three dresses of the fifteen were set aside to be tailored around the edges, while the few assistants she brought with her tweaked a few of them to fit better.

As the day neared the setting of the sun, our work was finished. I fished a paper out of my pocket, presenting it to Madam Delaine before she left, with a special request.

When I’d heard Madam Delaine would be coming with her tailors, something sparked in my mind while I was in the Emerald Room. I held the messy drawing I’d made yesterday out to her, biting my lip unconsciously as I waited for her response. After a moment, she looked up at me, scanning my face curiously.

“You came up with this?”

“Yes.”

I held my head up, despite the worry deep within me. Would she hate the idea? Would this be so much of a disaster that she’d refuse to work with me again? Was it an impossible task?

She gazed back down at the drawing, tilting her head before a smile slowly grew on her face.

“It’s revolutionary. Truly.”

“Huh?” I was stunned for a short while as I saw something light up within her eyes. Like a spark of inspiration and joy.

“I love it,” she told me.

When she held her hand out to me, my drawing now tucked safely into her journal, I couldn’t help but smile wide. I shook her hand.

“I’m glad.”

“It will take some time, but it will be done. It will be the epitome of you. Perfection.”

“Thank you.” I was grateful, maybe more than she’d ever know, but she shook her head lightly.

“Your Majesty.” She smiled at me, curtsying gracefully once more. “It is an honor to create this for you.”

And then she was off, after the final farewells. Dinner was much like lunch, quiet and uneventful. It made me curious, though, as to what times His Majesty, my husband, ate. Did he even eat at all? Was it brought to his office?

I shook my head at those thoughts as Lilia helped me ready myself for bed. I stayed up for another couple of hours, reading one of the few books I’d taken from the library during my tour today.

I looked to the door, thinking of the mysterious room beyond it, to the serious man who slept over there. And then I was reminded of how it was locked. And how he was avoiding me while he was spying on me with Rogers and Lilia. Suddenly peeved, I shut the lights off, placed the book on the table next to the clock, and tucked myself in to bed, vowing to end his streak of silence. Tomorrow.

Yes, tomorrow, I would talk to him.

Tomorrow came, and I found myself wearing one of Madam Delaine’s most stunning dresses, at least, from the ones I searched through yesterday. For once, I truly felt pretty, like I was finally stepping into my role as a Queen. My hair flowed in large curls down my back.

Today, I would confront His Majesty, my husband, King Talyn.

Rogers came to find me fairly early in the morning, but when I asked him if he knew where His Majesty was, I became quite near speechless at his response.

“Ah, yes! His Majesty is in his office, I was just there.”

Just there.

Just...

Why would you admit that?

Rogers just came from His Majesty’s office… when he’s my aide now? I filed his response into my own little figurative memory file with a fancy title.

His Majesty Spies on Me Every Day, Despite Not Speaking to Me.

That’s the title.

“Do you wish to speak with him?”

It took me a moment to reply to Rogers. If I went to speak with him now, would he think I was up to something. I mean, I was. Sort of. But not like that. I was just going to ask him if the adjoining door would forever be closed, to see if I was waiting on nothing happening. Because if he was just going to burst through that door one of these days with a ‘you’re sleeping with me tonight’ type of deals, I wasn’t going to be happy or willing to do so. It was enough that he wasn’t speaking to me, I just wanted to know where I stood.

“Yes. I think I would.”

It did no good to let these things draw out into infinite suffering. My infinite suffering. I wasn’t going to let it keep happening. But, as we drew closer, Rogers leading me there, I felt nerves bubbling up within me. My hands started to tremble.

How hard was it going to be to talk with him?

What if he got mad like father always did?

I nodded to Rogers to knock on the door and announce I was there.

When the door opened, he was right there, nudging me in and shoving Alecc out of his office. When the door closed, all of a sudden, my back was to the wall. He hovered over and around me, boxing me in. I opened my mouth, not quite sure what was going to come out of it, but something had to. Nothing did. It seemed he'd be the one to break the silence between us.

“What are your intentions?” His voice thundered down at me from above, and I was reminded that he was a king that people feared.

“Intentions?” I whispered back, every instinct telling me he was upset, that it wouldn’t be good to talk back. I settled on not meeting his gaze, because clearly, a response was suggested here.

And I had no idea what he was meaning.

Rogers, what the heck did you tell him?!

“What are you planning?”

I hadn’t even done anything suspicious yet. Like seriously suspicious. Was buying shoes and dresses suspicious? Was grabbing books from the library? A tour of the palace kind of came with the job description I married into.

Don’t tell me it was because of the foot massage.

Either way, it truly was him spying on me, the closest people to me were his people. His trustworthy people. I had been right.

And this was infuriating to hear.

For a moment, I forgot who I was speaking to as the anger and fury bubbled up within me. It was as if I blacked out and something took over my body. At least, that would be what I’d tell myself later.

“Planning?!” I gazed up at him, allowing him to see the glare I always showed the door. I gave it all to him this time. The subject behind the door. “Are you kidding?” I scoffed. “I’m planning on saving my people, on saving Cita. This alliance, this marriage is the last chance to do that before war!”

I didn’t flinch as he ducked his head down closer to mine. Just inches apart, I stared into his eyes, trying to convince myself that the green irises weren't pretty, and if they were, then that bad people could look pretty too.

Don’t be fooled by beauty, Mia. It does no good to judge on looks when you know some of the prettiest people are the worst.

“Is that all you’re after?” he asked quietly, eyes darting back and forth between mine.

A small laugh escaped me. I shoved a finger at his immovable chest, only getting angrier by the fact that not one part of him moved. It was like poking a rock, but it also felt like I was talking to one.

“Unlike you, I put the well-being of everyone’s people before my own. The people of Cita. The people of Thera. They are my purpose here. Not you, not me.”

Deep, deep inside of myself I was sobbing in a ball, silently begging that this wasn’t my last day of living.

If I lived, I could write a book.

How to offend someone quickly: a guide by a queen of just a few days, soon to be locked up forever for speaking rashly to her husband...

Yeah, that one would sell well.