The Daughter Of Illéa

Chapter 37

I didn't care about Maria or Genevieve. I never had. They were always a distraction. More like a trial, but what for? For God to reassure my sanity and my faith in him? I have no idea. I have no idea about anything anymore.
All I can clarify is that my Aunt is fairly lethal at the moment, and my fathers torn at the heart.
I want to help, but every other time I've ever tried to help it's always ended up under a terrible resolution.
All I can do now, is sit back and pray to god this thing will fall into place.

"Inhale, please!"
I take in another large breath of fresh oxygen as they try their best to zip up the back of the dress.

"Dear God Delilah, do you think you got enough hips?" Wanda says, letting out a groan of disappointment when her nimble fingers fail to zip it.

"I think my hips are fairly small, thank you. Hand me to Patsy!" I order, and Patsy rushes to my rescue. She twists her thick finger onto the zipper and pulls. For a second her fingers turn into an ugly shade of purple, but then finally the zipper zips right into it's final location.

I feel a moment of uncertainty, but then my stomach reacts fairly well swelling in so I feel thinner, and the gown appearing exotic.

It's a beautiful red. Not just the red on the rainbow, but the red of the symbolized Christmas flower. Seductive, but innocent.
It's sleeves are invisible, as detailed little roses dance against my arms and down my back. However threw the uncertainty of the roses and lace, it covers all of my labeled "Inappropriate Parts." Then right at the belly button, it expands into a huge silky ball gown. I feel like a Christmas decoration, bedazzled in red and roses.

My hair is wrapped up gorgeously like a gift present, supported by diamond broaches and decor.
My makeup is done professionally, with smokey eyes and blood red lipstick.

None of those were important without my final accessories.
The red lace mask that simply complete the look of vague sexy, and the white beaded necklace that Aunt Francine made me.

I was ready physically, but not mentally.

-

"Ladies, line up!" Cornelia bids, strutting up and down the main hall.
All of the Elite, would enter together.
I can hear the music blasting, even for an orchestra. I can only imagine what it would be like without the grand hall doors.

Everyone: all of the selected, their family, the royal, the royals friends and family. The thought becomes to crazy to fathom, as I grip Charleston.

She's in a gorgeous green dress, slimming down her body with silver diamonds compressed onto her.

In fact, everyone's in either red, green, or a sparkling silver for the occasion.
I'm one of the few that's in red, and everyone else are rocking the emerald and silver look.

"Chins up, shoulders back, and smiles on! Your reputation is in a wad of water in your hands. Squish the wrong way, and poof! It's gone. Now, remember the steps I taught you and please don't forgot elegance is everything!" Cornelia's the literal sergeant of this process, which makes me laugh, as I compare her to an overweight man decked out in camouflage.

She puts her forefinger to a microphone by her ear and whispers, "three...two...one."
And the grand hall doors open.

The chandeliers looked as if they were polished, along with the amazingly wooden tiled floors.
In the corner of the room is an oversized Christmas tree fit to the extreme height, and bedazzled in ornaments and tinsle, along with hundreds of presents resting below the tree.
On the other side of the room, is hundreds of people all decked out in the required colors and masks, and a long table full of food.