![]() ![]() She wouldn’t shame herself or the Gauri court by falling apart before their Kai guests. “Are you all right, my lady?” Ildiko nodded. She spat the pins clamped between her lips into her free hand. Worry lines gathered even more wrinkles into the woman’s face. A hand gripped her leg to steady her, and she opened her eyes to stare down at the royal dressmaker. ![]() Ildiko closed her eyes and swayed where she stood on the tailoring stool. Saliva flooded her mouth as the nausea roiling in her belly threatened to surge into her throat. The only question was when-not if-it happened. ![]() The Gauri king’s niece was no exception to the protocol, and Ildiko had always expected a similar fate. His Majesty, Sangur the Lame, had married off both his daughters to princes of foreign lands as part of the negotiations for access to ports and allies in war. Arranged marriages were the fate of nearly all aristocratic Gauri women, each one made for power, for trade, for good of country. Her maids refused to meet her gaze while they laced her into her gown and twitched the train into perfect folds, but she’d caught their looks of pity mixed with horror from the corner of her eye. Today was Ildiko’s wedding day, and if she managed not to retch on herself or a guest, she’d consider the entire event a resounding success. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |