The Royalty (Prince Harry Fanfic #4)

Chapter Twenty

The one month passed. July was gone. Two months until the wedding. The days were counted down.

With the one month passed, Lucy was down to one bodyguard again. Tony stayed two feet back but he said he would go back to five feet if the messages no longer existed. The threatening messages were still looked into but no more had shown up in the last month.

Lucy stood in front of large mirrors in a white dress. The designer, Tristan Wippermann, made adjustments to the dress while it was on her body. This was the third dress he showed her met all royal requirements, like the other dresses, while meeting Lucy's enjoyments as well. The three dresses had matched Lucy's tastes while mixing old with new. If she had to choose a dress, which she guessed that she did, she would've chosen number two.

"Oh, I like this one," Catherine said, but she had said almost the same thing about the other two dresses. Her fingers brushed along the the lace on the bottom half. "The lace is nice, a good difference between the first silk one."

"The second dress has lace on it too."

Catherine agreed. "Do you like the second dress more?"

Lucy nodded.

Tristan finished pulling the fabric back on Lucy, and she squirmed. "Perhaps looser?"

"One has the tight breasts but looser on the way down. I like that." Lucy examined the dress closer. "And there's a slight train on this one. It's good, you know? It's higher in the front so I don't trip on the dress."

"The shoes will show," Catherine said. "Are you all right with that, Lucy?"

"Yeah." She turned to Tristan Wippermann. "Can I do that? Can the shoes show a little?"

"Yes, but that's the next thing: the shoes." Tristan looked over to Christopher Straub, who held up two out of the seven pair of shoes in the room. "We have quite the collection, and they all match the requirements set forth. There has to be a certain height and a certain color. We have different designs and frills."

"I want boring. Is that okay?"

Catherine smiled. "This is your wedding. Do what you want."

Lucy glanced at the designers and they smiled. "Let's try some on."

Tristan laughed. "These are only the shoes for the wedding; we still have the reception."

"Looking forward to it." Lucy rolled her eyes, and Siobhan shot her a dirty look. Her eyes went down, as if the floor was now interesting.

"First pair." Tristan helped her into the shoes.

"We need to test the walking and comfortableness of the shoes," Lucy's personal assistant said. "We'll need to test all the shoes."

"Can we open some windows?" Lucy asked. It was too hot in the room.

"You know the rules, ma'am." It was Siobhan who said it but it could've been Tony for all Lucy knew.

Lucy forced herself not to roll her eyes again. Moving forward, she walked around in the room in the second dress. Tristan would have to change the dress in some places but it was good enough to practice in. Shoes were taken off and put on; she compared them. Catherine and Siobhan helped make the final choice on the shoes, and it the sixth pair that ended up being the winner.

"Now," Catherine smiled, "for the reception dresses."

Christopher Straub stepped forward, awaiting his moment to shine. Lucy gave him a kind smile. "Can I please have something short-ish?"

"Ish?" Siobhan questioned, giving her a princess lesson now.

Lucy turned to her. "Can I please have something short? Can I have something I can dance in?" She turned to Mister Straub. "Can I please dance the night away?"

"I know the rules." He smiled. "I'll give you what I can, ma'am."

"Thank you."

He turned around and picked up a dress. "All these dresses can be shortened at least a couple inches."

Taking the dress from him, Lucy went to the back of the room, behind a screen, and changed. The dress fit her snugly before flaring. She had a chance to look at herself in the mirror before someone knocked on the door. Lucy peeked out from behind the screen, but Siobhan managed to block the doorway with her petite body. There were some whispered tones and Lucy tired to listen, but Catherine stood in front of her, talking about the dress. Siobhan entered the room again.

"Who was that?" Lucy asked, popping out fully.

"The Prince, ma'am," Siobhan answered. "He wanted to remind you that the new James Bond movie is premiering tonight, and you are leaving at six tonight."

"He's outside?"

"He was, ma'am; he's gone now."

"No, he isn't."

"Ma'am--"

"I know Harry."

"Ma'am?"

"Siobhan, I ripped the wedding dress in the back, the one we all liked." The lie rippled off her tongue, and Lucy was even impressed by herself.

"What?" she exclaimed, anger radiated off of her face. The personal assistant ran behind the screen and Lucy made the quick getaway. She threw open the door and ran outside. Harry awaited.

"You look beautiful." He immediately turned his back to her.

"What, Harry, what?"

"Luce, you're in a white dress, like you know... a wedding dress. It's bad luck to see the bride in her wedding dress before the wedding part."

Slowly, her eyes trailed down the white dress. She didn't enjoy the dress truly; there had to be better-- there were better. It wasn't even a wedding dress but a reception dress. Her fingers curled into the fabric. "It's a reception dress, Harry, and it's not even mine-- I'm not going to wear it."

Calmly he turned around and faced Lucy again. His eyes hovered on the dress for a second, perhaps on her body. His eyes came up to her face. "You look amazing."

She scoffed.

"You really do, Luce."

"I always do, Harry."

He stepped forward but still kept his space between them, as if not to disturb the dress. "How has the day been going?"

"I've been trying on dresses and more dresses, and shoes and more shoes. I'm sweaty and I'm starting to hate the color white," she complained; Harry laughed. "They can't open the window, but it's so hot in there. And the more I try on dresses, the more I'm done."

"Have you chosen the dress?"

"Yes. I have one." She smirked. "It needs to be altered a little but it'll be good."

"I'm excited to see it." He kissed her on the cheek. "I'll see you tonight," Harry promised. "Be ready."

"Whenever am I not?"