M E R E D I T H is a princess without a country. Her family, formerly the royal family of Borgavia, has been exiled from their home, forced to live under the rule of the Empire of Astoria.
A N T O N Y is a prince who doesn't want a crown. Soon to be...
The morning of the coronation dawned, sunshine streaming through the windows of the palace and bathing the corridors and the milling guests with light.
Meredith, up early that morning to fetch Isabella's new dress, now knocked on her friend's door.
"Come in," said Isabella, sleepily.
Meredith swept in, carrying the dress.
"It turned out beautifully!" she told Isabella, enthusiastically. "It's perfectly lovely. The periwinkle blue most definitely suits your eyes."
Isabella rolled over in bed, laughing.
"Meredith, you get more excited about dresses than anything else." She sat up, chuckling and took the dress from Meredith.
"May I help you, just this once?" begged Meredith, wanting to handle the dress again, feel the soft silken fabric. "And do your hair?" Then, smirking: "My Lady?"
Isabella gave a playful shove and stood from bed. "I suppose, this once."
Meredith smiled and Isabella slipped into her bathing room and changed into her under skirt and slip and came back out. Her friend slipped the beautiful dress over her head and smoothed the fabric, arranging it so it lay perfectly. She did up the pearl buttons in the back and tied the dark blue bow, pulling it until it was even.
She pulled her friend to a stool in front of a mirror.
"Sit," she said, and Isabella sat. Meredith took the pins out of Isabella's blonde hair and brushed it, then worked her fingers deftly through it, braiding pieces, pulling strands together, and bringing it all into a lovely up-do with lose tendrils that framed Isabella's face.
Once her hair was finished, Isabella stood and looked herself over in the mirror.
"You've done a lovely job!" she exclaimed to Meredith, who blushed.
"Thank you," she said, softly. Isabella disappeared into their shared parlor and returned with Meredith's dress.
"Put it on," she said.
Meredith slipped the dress over her head, careful of her hair, which Isabella had done, and allowed her companion to fasten her buttons.
They both took a few steps back to look at themselves in the mirror.
"I think," said Isabella. "That we are ready."
Both were already imagining the evening, the dancing, and all the people.
Meredith briefly wondered what Evan would think, then pushed the thought from her mind. Evan would, of course, be staying as far from the coronation as he could.
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Antony tugged at the collar of his dress shirt, the tight feeling in his throat no less relieved. He sighed and turned to the chair next to him, from which he took his dress uniform coat, the navy blue jacket with its polished brass buttons and the medals that symbolized Astoria, the King, and the military, and put it on, watching himself in the mirror as he mechanically fastened each button and pulled on the red sash that went over the coat. Finally, he put on the belt and sword sheath.
