Re: Who needs a prince when you're a queen?

Chapter Twenty-eight: What does a schemer wear to a soiree?

"I never really cared for chiffons but darling, that fabric looks splendid on you," Viveca quipped as she ecstatically looked at me.

"This itches," I groaned.

You would think that thirteen years in this world wearing elaborate dresses had already adjusted my system. But no. Ball gowns are still as uncomfortable as they always were since the first day that I wore them in this world. Actually, it's not the fabric that is itchy. It's just my sense of discomfort every time I put on such dresses – especially the ones that have lots of frills on them.

Like the one I am wearing right now which my dear mother had sent.

Of course my mother would never let such an opportunity to get her daughter to snatch potential suitors pass by. Albeit not present, I can still feel her sneaky intentions radiating from the packaged box that she had delivered to me. Inside the intricately wrapped box is a frilly dress with a soft lavender hue. It had double mesh bishop sleeves, a cinched waistline, and flower appliques all over the bodice. The skirt was voluminous and frilly and an absolute torture to move in for someone as uncoordinated as I. Partner that with two left feet in heels and you have got a walking disaster waiting to happen. Sometimes, I do pity this mother of mine for placing her hopes in a child like me.

Anyway, a week from now is the day of the spring soiree and I am currently with Viveca as we are doing fitting check of our outfits for the event. As of now, she was still in this weird internal debacle about which type of silk fits her the best.

"I mean I do love a good mulberry silk. It is classy, timeless, and regal," Viveca wondered aloud as she held one fabric on her left hand. She then grabbed another fabric with her right. "Oh, but I do love the sheen and luster that this muga silk provides!"

"Why not do both, your highness?" One of the dozen attendants in the room suggested.

Viveca giggled. "Oh, don't be silly, Ms. Hawthorne. You cannot misuse silks like that. Why, you would look like a nouveau riche desperate for attention!"

Ms. Hawthorne's embarrassed laughter came next. "Ah, yes, you are right, your highness."

I could not keep standing anymore and had to sit down on one of the chairs prepared in the room. The amount of floof that the skirt of this dress had was insane and I had a hard time figuring out how to sit in this gown- it almost felt like rocket science. As I was struggling and fighting the inner urge to just tear up this whole thing, Martinique came up to me.

"Lady Marcella, someone's looking for you," Martinique announced.

"Who is it?"

"Someone you know."

I did not even bother to further inquire the vagueness of Martinique's answer. Since I could not even sit properly, might as well just stand up.

"He is waiting in your drawing room, Lady Marcella," Martinique followed me.

Ah, dang it. My room is at the opposite end of the hall from where Viveca's room was at. And yes, I was just in her room because shopping for nobles in this world is basically just online shopping except for the fact that you can browse stuff physically. That is why the tailors and attendants were all gathered inside Viveca's room. I could not even begin to describe how large the buildings for the dorms are, given how many students are studying in the academy.

"Viveca, I have to go," I hastily said my goodbyes. The loud discussion inside the room probably drowned out my voice but I decided that it was best to leave Viveca before she decided to put me in another dress. Heaven knows we have been going at it for five hours now.