52. CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
VERONICA
“This is probably stupider than you coming here to begin with.”
Gareth is right. God, I hate when he’s right.
It’s like I’m back in our tiny shack we called home, packing to come back to the palace the first time. Actually, now that I think about it, the whole thing is creepily similar.
I look at Gareth, who is lying on my bed, half a blueberry muffin idly waiting to be eaten on his chest. He grumbles incoherently, his mouth full of the other half. My teeth run over my bottom lip, and I bite down on the soft skin to keep a laugh from bubbling up out of me.
When he returned the evening after the burial, I showed him all the letters. He was silent for a long time before he finally blew out a breath and muttered, “Does this mean we like him again?”
He also said he still wanted to punch Sebastian in the face.
It was the first time I laughed, for real, in a long time.
Gareth is wary over me going to Sebastian’s crowning ceremony this afternoon.
Hell, I am wary. We still haven’t spoken to each other, deep down I know it’s because there are still things Sebastian wants to make right.
I’m being patient, it’s been hard. Especially after the letters, but I have to trust my gut.
My head usually doesn’t think, it just does. That never turns out well.
I cross my arms, staring at the dress draped over a chair by the window, its hem spilling onto the floor. It’s been there since I woke up this morning, taunting me.
The dress is long, elegant, and so delicate. I’m afraid to touch it.
Completely royal blue in color, intricate golden beads are woven into the chest, creating a simple but tasteful pattern.
It looks fitted on the top with a flowing lower half.
I haven’t seen a dress like it before, not that I’m an expert on formal dresses or anything.
There isn’t a single patch or dirt mark on it – easily the most expensive dress I’ll ever step into.
I’m overwhelmed, yet excitement thrums through my veins. Or, maybe anxiety. I can’t tell. It’s probably both.
Gareth shuffles impatiently behind me and I turn toward him, noting the crumbs clinging to his lip. I raise my eyebrow, as he comes closer to stand at my side.
“You’re totally going to trip.” He muses.
I hate him.
Gareth is right, again.
I am going to kill myself wearing this thing.
The woman in the mirror looking back at me is unrecognizable.
Color is painted onto my cheeks thanks to Missy.
My hair flows behind me, much like the dress.
It’s pulled together at the top, pinned in the back with a golden comb holding it all in place.
A few strands have slipped out, they rest against my temple and drape down the side of my face.
I don’t look anything like the poor girl from the village.
I could easily pass as a woman from a wealthy family.
It’s startling.
I tip my chin down, looking at the hem that barely touches the floor. One wrong step and I am going down, thank god I’m not wearing heels.
“How do I look?” I ask shyly, as I turn from the mirror toward Gareth.
He sits on the end of my bed, legs swung lazily over the wooden frame. Gareth assesses me, his lips pursing before he lifts a shoulder in a small shrug.
“Weird.” Gareth nods, popping his lips. “Super, weird.”
Heat rises to my cheeks, darkening the blush. I roll my eyes, huffing in mock annoyance as I turn back to the mirror for another look. He’s right, I look weird. It’s uncomfortable, and itchy.
Still, it was given to me for a reason, so I’m grateful.
The door opens with a gentle creak, I glance up to see Georgina step into my chambers from the reflection.
A beautiful cream dress with golden embroidery on the chest covers her body.
It’s flowy and suddenly I’m jealous because it looks so comfortable.
I bet it isn’t itchy. Her dark hair is also pulled back, curling under her ears. She smiles as soon as she sees me.
My heartbeat kicks up, the warmth lingering on my cheeks. I turn to her, my fingers rubbing at the sides of my hips to ease the nerves. Her eyes soften and she steps closer before I can say anything.
“Oh, Veronica.” Georgina’s voice cracks.
I stare up at her, feeling the pressure build behind my eyes. She looks so proud of me; I can see it in her dark gaze. It’s unfamiliar. No one in my life has lived long enough to be proud of me.
“Baby, look at you.” My breath hitches as Georgina speaks, her thumb collecting the tears threatening to spill over my lash line. “Don’t cry, today is a happy day.”
My chin bobs in a nod, and I suck in a breath to calm the emotions flooding through me. She’s right. Today’s a happy day.
Georgina drops her hand, and I shift my gaze down to the small black velvet box she holds. My eyebrows pinch in confusion.
“What’s that?” I ask. Her lips lift and silently, she opens the box.
Inside is a silver chain, thin and dainty. There’s a small pink circle between see-through slats, bordered in silver .
I know this necklace. This belonged to my mother.
My fingers tremble as I lift it from the box, sliding my thumb over the circle pendant. That small pink circle is a pressed rose petal.
“Where did you…” I trail, my voice barely a whisper. The tightness in my chest is barely manageable.
Georgina takes the necklace from me, gently guiding my shoulders until I am staring back at the mirror.
My eyes drop to the pendant where it rests against my skin, as Georgina clasps it behind my neck.
Her hands smooth over my shoulders, holding me steady as she peers at the two of us in the reflection.
“Thomas gave it to me to keep safe.” My eyes widen. “He was going to give it to you when you were older. I wasn’t ever able to return it.” She pauses. “I thought today was only fitting.”
The pressure behind my eyes lets up, tears spill down my cheeks as I let out a shattered breath.
Georgina turns me back to her, pulling me close so I bury my face into her neck.
All of Missy’s effort to make me pretty is ruined as I break down sobbing into Georgina’s shoulder.
She rubs my back, stroking the hair that falls from the comb, trying to hold it all together.
Gareth’s hand pats the top of my head, his face scrunched up anxiously, unable to handle crying that isn’t rage fueled.
“Oh come on! I just did your makeup!” Missy whines, pulling all three of us back to reality.
I look up from Georgina’s shoulder, seeing Missy standing in the open doorway with her hands on her hips. My lips pull up until I’m grinning at her. She huffs out a breath, laughing as she heads across the room to begin the process again.