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Pen Your Pride

Today, my wedding gown is to either be chosen or sewn. An array of beautiful dresses were presented to me, but so far nothing seems like the perfect one. Even my mother’s wedding dress did not seem right.

        My mother told me to try it on. So I stepped into the dress, servants lacing it closed. It was simply breathtaking. It was an asymmetrical dress, with a lot of embroidery and beaded designs. The lone sleeve was carefully and skillfully embroidered with flowers and stars. The skirt flowed freely from the bodice, all light and fluffy. I loved it, and mother showed glee at the sight that her eldest daughter fit into her wedding dress and her daughter was loving it.

         But it felt wrong somehow. It fit well on me, but something was striking me odd. It apparently struck mother too.

          “Oh dear.” She exclaimed. “Doesn’t it just seem……….odd, Therese?” she asked, addressing the palace seamstress.

          “What Your Highness? It seems perfect to me.”

         My mother swatted her hand in Therese’s direction, as if to eliminate that thought. “Something is wrong. Do you think so, Antarctica?” mother asked as she put a hand on my bare shoulder.

          “I feel the same thou do, mother. Something is definitely not correct about this dress, though I cannot place it.” I placed my hands on my hips in a thinking manner.

          “Take it off, then. Try a few more until you find one to your liking. If you do not find the dress, tell Therese what you want in a dress.”

          “Yes mother.” I said obediently. The dressing-maids unlaced the gown. It slipped off with ease.

         I gulped in breaths of air. My corset was never this tight before. After I minimized the feeling of nausea, I asked if they could loosen the laces of the infernal contraption.

         To my joy, they made the corset a lot less restricting. I could breathe better now.

         Several more gowns were slipped on, laced up, and had their share of opinions. But nothing seemed right at all. Even my mother and Therese shook their heads at every single one that I tried.

         Then there it was. It was complete perfection. It was a strapless, snow white dress. But connected embroidered snowflakes made the gown look asymmetrical. The snowflakes were thin and almost transparent.

         While the bodice was so intricately designed, the skirt was simple. It was flowy, all tulle and chiffon. It was like a dream.

         The gown was………perfect. This is it. Everyone in the room agreed that it looks so beautiful and that it really complements my power.

         Apparently the gown was made for my 18th birthday, but many voted against it. Now many vote that I wear it on the day that I will be wed.

         I twirled, feeling the fabric swish around me. My shoes clanked heavily on the wooden floor of the fitting-room. They are fairly new, and I am yet to get used to them.

         “May anyone else see this dress, mother? I wish to show my sisters.” I pleaded.

         My mother’s eyebrows raised for a brief moment, and she seemed to ponder over that. “Alright then. They have all the permission to see the dress and you in it.” She said to me.

          “Please call her sisters, Marcella.” She requested to a maid.

          Marcella nodded slightly, then went off.

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