CHAPTER 2

KING ODRAN CHOKED on his wine in a rather undignified manner, one rare for him, but he recovered quickly.

When Alastar was younger, Odran recalled, he'd had a flair for the dramatic. Telling exaggerated stories, playing pranks, singing songs at the top of his lungs. He'd put a frog in his nurse's nightcap once, and shoved her into the courtyard fountain another time.

But the man who sat beside him now was no longer a boy, and Odran recognized when a man had made up his mind.

He usually liked to think that nothing escaped his attention. Yet something had. He had failed to notice Alastar growing closer to anyone, and he hadn't realized that his son had had his eye on a maiden. A maidservant, he corrected himself. This may have slipped past him, but he didn't run a kingdom smoothly with nothing to show for it. He could straighten out this little kink, he could fix what had gone amiss. He just had to be careful and clever about it, and he was always careful and clever.

He glanced at his wife and saw the look of shock and outrage that had taken over her lovely features. She really would look very pretty if her most favoured expressions weren't scowls or grimaces, he thought. He had to stop her from exploding, and quickly. He could handle their son. But Padraigin was impulsive, and self-righteous. He could tell that she did not like Alastar's outspokenness, not one little bit.

He inclined his head toward her. "More wine, my dear?"

She was sputtering, but saying nothing. Her mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. "Did you hear him?" she eventually managed to say.

"I did, indeed," Odran replied. "I think you and I should talk alone," he suggested to her, giving his son a withering glance. "In private, please, Alastar."

Alastar got the hint, but Odran saw his jaw clench. "Discuss whatever you wish to," he told them. "But I have made a decision and a promise to someone, and I will not retract it. I love her."

He pushed his chair back with a loud sound and exited the room. Once his son had left, the king motioned for the guards at the door to leave as well. He wanted this conversation to be in strict confidence, with just him and the woman he had once thought he loved in attendance.

"Padraigin," he begun, but didn't get to continue before the queen released the flood of words she had been just barely holding back.

"See how your son treats us!" she cried out. "Look how he dishonours you! Marry a maid, he says? Marry a maid? He likes to jest, does he?"

"Calm down, darling," Odran ordered, patiently. "The boy thinks he is in love with a girl." He didn't like how that sentence resonated with an older, buried part of him, but he said it anyways. "He will come to his senses."

"And in the mean time?" Padraigin's eyes flashed at him, brown and angry. "He says and does what he likes?"

"Hush, Paddy, hush," he murmured, only just loud enough for her to hear. It had been long since he'd used his affectionate shortening of her name, but he didn't know if she had even noticed. "I have a thought to share."

"What is that?" she questioned.

"Let him make wedding plans. Let him have a dress made for her. Let him think that he is in control."

"Then what?" She asked, insistent and insufferable. Didn't she understand the way his mind worked by now, after all these years? Would he have to spell it out?

"Tragedies happen," Odran said. "Who's to say the girl doesn't go missing, by some mysterious chance?"

Understanding dawned in his wife's eyes, finally. She looked away from him, suddenly lost in thought. "You are wise," she muttered distractedly.

"We both know we cannot allow our son to marry one of the servants, such as this...this Monika. We both know how damaging it could be to the kingdom of Ceol. I suggest we merely...discard her. Alastar will come to terms with this in time. And she doesn't have to be hurt in the process. No, not at all. Simply relocated." Odran felt pleased with his plan as he saw it come together in his mind. And all the while he talked, Padraigin was nodding, nodding, smiling, a distant look on her face.

*

MONIKA WAS SCRUBBING the stairs that led to the bedchambers of the palace when Alastar found her. He rushed to her, his face aglow, his sandy blond hair ruffled as usual. He didn't even allow her to put down the scrubbing brush she had been using, instead picking her up into his arms and swinging her around and around.

"We are to be married," he kept repeating it. "We are to be married."

"Al," she laughed. "Al! Put me down. Tell me what happened."

He smiled and put her down gently. "No more sneaking around the castle, Moni. No more hiding. We can be seen together. We can do this." He kissed her, robbing her of her all her breath and holding her tighter to him.

Finally, she managed to pull away and look up into his flushed face.  "Your father doesn't mind?"

His eyes shone. "He gave us his blessing."

Joy and hope bloomed inside of Monika like blossoms in the springtime. She hadn't expected it to be so easy, so simple. She had been prepared to fight for Al and what they had. But oh! The unexpected bliss of being granted the one thing she longed for most!

She had no words. She could only beam so widely that her cheeks started to ache, and Al kissed her again, right on her smile.

"When?" she asked, breathless. Al kissed her once more. "Al!"

"As soon as possible. Next week, God willing."

"Next week?" A flutter filled her stomach. "So soon."

"Yes," Al grinned. "Soon!"

"I need to make a dress," Monika said, ideas running through her mind already.

"You'll have the finest tailor we have make a dress for you."

"Oh, Al, that's not necessary-"

"Yes, it is," he insisted.

The thought was overwhelming. She was going to marry Prince Alastar in a week's time. And her wedding dress would be tailored! She'd never owned something tailored before. But the part that had her overwhelmed and made her dizzy with happiness was that she would be wedding her best friend.

Then suddenly, she remembered her mother. Her euphoria was dulled for a moment. No, she told herself, as firmly as she could. Mama would be thrilled, and you can be too. She would want you to be happy. She said so herself.

"I should finish this quickly," she told Al, as she bent down to get back to the step she had been cleaning vigorously.

"No," Al said, taking her arm and pulling her up again. "You are never scrubbing another floor again for the rest of your days. You're going to be a princess, Monika, and one day, a queen."

*

THE ROYAL TAILOR lived in the castle in her own quarters. She was a tall, slender woman, with greying brunette hair and dark brown eyes. She was beautiful in a rigid way. Her name was Vevina, and she made Monika nervous, although she had heard from many that this woman was one of much talent.

Completely naked, Monika stood before Vevina. She had been very shy to take off her clothing, but Vevina had insisted quite strongly that the best way to make the best dress was to fit it to the skin.

"Hmm," Vevina murmured to herself. "Slim waist, long legs. And all that hair. Those are your finest attributes."

Monika squirmed, uncomfortable and exposed. She felt that she was being measured up and could not help fearing falling short of whatever expectations there were to be had of a girl that would soon become royalty, without any experience of being royal at all. Finally, the torture ended when the tailor clapped her hands together, once, and announced that they'd pick the fabric before moving further in the making of the gown.

As soon as Monika was fully covered again, Vevina took her to a room in the palace that she had never seen before. It was full of shelves and shelves of different fabrics. Taffeta, cashmere, sateen. Lots and lots of colours. Beaded fabrics, laced fabrics. Monika could not help the gasp that fell from her mouth.

Vevina chuckled. "Quite a sight for a girl like you, isn't it?"

Monika would have been offended if the tailor had said it in a way that was meant to be offensive. But she could hear in the woman's tone that she was merely observing, not taking a jab at the young, soon-to-be-princess.

Already, the kingdom of Ceol was abuzz with the news. Prince Alastar, the handsome young man that all the fair maidens dreamed of, was to marry a maid. A common maid! And on such short notice, too. The wedding was in but five days.

Monika had been offered her own bedchamber in the upper floor of the castle, and had at first refused, saying she'd prefer to stay in the servants' quarters until after the wedding. She gave in, however, when she couldn't take the whispers and the stares from the other maids anymore. Even Zaira, a fellow servant that was only a year younger than her and someone she had once considered a friend, kept her distance. And when Zaira didn't manage to stay away, it wasn't much better, as she acted strange around Monika. She didn't like feeling that she was an outcast all of a sudden, and hoped it would pass.

The first night that Monika had slept in the grand four poster bed of her new bedchamber, she had been in awe at how smooth the sheets were, how soft the mattress was. She had slept deeper that night than any night before. To think that she would sleep in a bed like that for decades to come!

"Now, let's see," Vevina said, breaking through Monika's thoughts. "I think pearl white silk will be right for your dress. Feel this, dear."

Vevina picked a big, folded up pile of a white fabric that shimmered and shone like the inside of a seashell. Its colour was unblemished and perfect, speaking of innocence and pureness. Monika's eyes drunk in the sight greedily.

"It's very beautiful," she whispered, as she fingered it. The texture was fine and slippery. Delicate.

"Yes, child. Yes. That it is. What do you think?"

Monika blinked. What did she think? She thought it was wonderful. "I like it very much."

"Good," Vevina said. "Now, for the lace and ribbons."

For the next few hours, Monika had to make the most decisions she had ever made before.

"This or that?" Vevina questioned. 

"Cream lining would look nice. What are your thoughts?" Vevina demanded.

"What will you be wearing on your feet, child?" Vevina worried.

She endured being pricked and poked at, dressed up like a doll and then dressed down again as her mind grew tired and she grew impatient. But her heart was happy.

It was all worth it when she came into the room the next morning and found that the dress was complete already. Vevina had stayed up all night working on it, and had fallen asleep sitting on a chair, the dress draped over her lap. A small sound of wonder escaped Monika when she saw how beautiful it was. Gently, she pushed Vevina's long arms off it and lifted it up to look at it properly.

Only one word could describe it. Gorgeous. She had never had a dress instil such a sense of excitement and glee in her before. It was just made up of threads and beads, after all. But in some way, it felt like so much more. She was as a child again, opening the first gift her mother had ever given her on her seventh birthday.

Monika, wife to Alastar of Ceol, the dress seemed to whisper to her, symbolizing her future with Al. Marking the beginning of a new chapter in her life.

Involuntary tears stung her eyes. She wished her mother were there to see it.

---

A/N: So, people. Thoughts? I really really wanna know how you think I can improve this story and what you think its strong points are. I appreciate all votes and comments.

Also, the photo is of how I imagine Al to look. Dreamy, huh.