39- Wedding Dress

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"Ooh! It's gorgeous! Absolutely gorgeous!"

The heavy, creaking door to Pierre-Louis Dupont's assigned fitting room in the castle opened and Guinevere had strutted in, followed by Samantha, a maid, who infuriated her by gushing at whatever piece of fabric she saw and poking at a expensive gowns. Was she not trained to stand still and act like a gracious maid? Guinevere scowled. But then again, maids rarely saw queen's jewelry even in the residence of the castle, for most were always confined to the cooking and cleaning duties.

"Only five days before the wedding?" Samantha said in disbelief as she studied some sequins as they waited for the great fashion designer. "That's not enough to make a beautiful handmade wedding dress!"

"Maybe they're giving me an old dress," Guinevere said disinterestedly as she looked up from a fashion magazine. "I don't care if they don't make it handmade, but it should be beautiful and nicely done. Fits in the theme of the wedding."

Samantha shook her head wearily. Over the past few days, her mistress had been in an irritable mood, almost unbearable, and seemed to be grumpy most of the time. The last time she had seen her Highness, before she had gone with the infamous Gusion, she had always been in a good mood and was wearing a sweet smile, which she never once saw again. Had travelling with Gusion imprinted an effect on her? Or even more unthinkable, had His Highness did something bad to her to make her like this? What had happened to the old Guinevere, who was always rebelling against her father and didn't give a damn about princes and wedding bells?

The door swung open again and Samantha and Guinevere jumped. Pierre-Louis Dupont panted as he hurried to fix his hair. He had obviously come rushing from some sort of meeting.

"Sir!" Samantha exclaimed in awe, and immediately sank into a bow. She had never tired of looking at fashion articles, which had always featured the designer.

Guinevere made no gesture towards the designer. She glared at him. "What a poor job you might have been doing, since you arrived here later than a royal." Her tone dripped with snarkiness.

"Oh, I'm sorry, your, Your Highness," Pierre-Louis Dupont apologised, red-faced. "If you may allow me, I would like to show you my atelier at Tildon Street. I've brought everything I could to the palace, but I couldn't fit everything inside. My full collection is there."

Samantha and Guinevere exchanged incredulous looks. Imagine, this pompous man had already asked brazenly for three rooms, one for his designing room, fitting room, and his guest room, which was only supposed to be used for important guests and big enough to host five people. But Pierre Dupont insisted on a large space, saying "I need concentration when it comes to dressing the most elegant princess in town." And yet it wasn't enough to accommodate a designer and two assistants?

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room. "Shall I say-" Guinevere began irritably. She just knew this man was begging for a chance to snag yet another room.

Pierre Dupont was no fool. Breaking into a sweat, he quickly decided to change where things were going before these two look for another designer."On second thought, I think this room may just be enough for my collection. I just thought you'd like to see my other designs, too."

Guinevere fought to keep a straight face. One one hand, she was itching to throw this man out of the castle. On the other hand, he was doing her a favor, right? Wasn't he going to be the one to design her dress?

"Wait," Guinevere reached out a hand to him, and the man barely hid his gasp, which surprised Guinevere and maybe made her feel a little sad. Had she really been that intimidating for the past few days? "On the other hand, I'd love to see your designs. It would be such a shame if my wedding dress is going to be limited to your collection in the castle."

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