Mondo Pastello | girlxgirl | Completed♕

Chapter VII ♥ Confiding with Blood

Right now, I was in a very awkward position. My almost naked body stood on top of a little podium, female palace workers rushing around me as a few ran with fabric in their arms. Others carried priceless sequences with the utmost care. In front of this little riot stood the most serious woman I have ever seen. It looked as if she gelled her eyebrows she was so stiff. She was a court designer, meant to invent and create the royal dresses. I have worn some of her previous work, and I have no problem with her making my dress. They are always comfortable and akin to my body type. No need for a bone crushing corsets in the modern times anymore.

"Arms up," she demanded, and I did as he wanted of me. With her band, she measured the length between the ground and my arm pit. She threw the number into the air, her assistant documenting the measurement in a book. "Sit," curiously and hesitant at first, I bend down onto my knees and sat down on the podium in front of her. I was a bit irritated, but not because of her. This was something she had nothing to do with.

Scratch that. It has everything to do with this woman in front of me.

Today is an extraordinary colder day than normal and this woman is demanding me to stand before her for almost an hour with nothing covering me except my undergarments.

The nerve. I am her Princess. I would have her thrown in the Tower for this.

I was in a bad mood.

"So I am seeing it... visioning it... yes that's it," she stood in front of me, waving her finger in front of my face.

"What is it you see?" I asked, anxious. I felt as if I was being told my future by a physic with a magic ball and a coloured vail over her mouth. Instead I got a stern fifty year-old whose face was pulled back at birth and it stayed there. Like tar.

"Your coronation dress. A perfect blend of royal glamour and your gentleness, Princess. It will be an art work," she nodded, absolutely satisfied with herself. "Now tell me Princess, for your dress for the Royal Variety Performance: what is your favourite colour?" I hummed only for a second before answering.

"Violet," her face scrunched up immediately.

"Violet? Well..." the woman contemplated only for a second, her face pulled in a sneer. "I think blue would fit you more... elegantly. Now sit still, I have to take your head measurement," the woman neared me, wrapping her band around my head. Now I was truly confused.

"What do you need my head measurement for?" I asked as soon as she stepped away to check over the measurement. I untucked my legs from under me and sat normally on the podium, keeping my legs tight together as customary for royalty. There is no 'crossing legs' in royalty. Which sucked.

"To make your tiara!" at this I was confused.

"I thought my tiara was inherited?" I inquired, but she shook her head gently.

"It is, but not your tiara which you will wear to the performance. There you will wear a royal forehead tiara, created to your special requirements," which, in my opinion, was much more special than a priceless artefact that some person made centuries ago because this was personal. A forehead tiara? I cannot wait.

A knock came at the door and one of the maids went to find out who caused the disturbance. She came in rather swiftly and headed towards me, curtsying before addressing me.

"Your Highness, Prince Cornelius wishes to meet with you," she informed. Well this was certainly peculiar. What did Cornelius want to talk with me about?

"Tell him I will meet him in the gardens," nodded, she went off to deliver my order. After receiving the word that the designer was finished, I quickly dressed again in my silk dress and pulled on heels. I did not really see the point to heels, seeing as they could not be seen under the dress. I was already so short that heels, not even pointes, could compensate.