Chapter 10: The Sisters' Twisted Plot

Saffron had been in the palace for nearly two weeks when Verita came to get her to be measured for her wedding gown. She was sitting beneath a tree in the frigid garden, scribbling in her journal. While she knew most of the flowers that were grown here there were a few that she was unfamiliar with. Elric had informed her that he would be gone all day to oversee the training of some of the newer soldiers, so she had the day to herself.
The past two weeks had blurred past her. Elric had sent a messenger back to Gilramore to collect her things and she was eagerly awaiting them. She thought that is why the unpleasant lady of the house was coming to get her now.
“You’re needed in your rooms,” Verita said, giving no explanation.
“One moment,” Saffron said as she finished pressing the flower into the journal. Verita looked down her beaked nose at the girl’s flower and ink-stained fingertips.
“Wash up first. We don’t want your filth getting onto the fabrics,” she said with a sniff and left the garden. Saffron hurried behind her.
Her door was open when she arrived and was a flurry of activity as people rushed around, bolts of fabric laying on every available surface. A servant pushed Saffron towards the washstand where she scrubbed off the afternoon’s study from her hands.
“There, girl,” Verita commanded her to the center of a room where a low stool stood. “Up,” she snapped. Saffron stepped onto the stool and two servants helped her to pull off her woolen dress. “Take that away,” Verita said to them, disgust strewn across her face.
“You aren’t wearing a corset?” she exclaimed, seeing Saffron’s simple shift.
“No, I am not accustomed to them,” she replied, annoyed, and crossed her arms over her breasts.
“You’ll be the death of me I swear,” she grumbled as Saffron’s lady in waiting handed her a corset. They strapped Saffron in so tightly, she swore she heard one of her ribs crack. She poked it experimentally, but it felt intact.
“Fleta! She is ready for you,” Verita called. A bent backed woman hobbled from the other room. Saffron wondered how she would be able to stand much less sew an entire wedding gown.
“Her breasts are too big!” Fleta called to Verita as she gazed at the ample bosom that spilled from Saffron’s corset.
“Try a higher necked gown. It should help,” Verita replied, a placating tone in her voice that Saffron had only heard when Verita spoke to the King. Saffron fought against rolling her eyes. She was grateful that she was getting her wedding dress made instead of being forced to wear an old one but having to deal with the constant disapproval that had followed her since she stepped foot in the castle was tiring.
She had skillfully avoided being alone with any of the other Princes since that night they tried to bribe her to spy on Elric. She wasn’t sure why they were insistent on prying into his life. He was fourth in line for the throne and had made it noticeably clear that he had no ambitions for the crown. Saffron would never understand the court. From what she had seen in the past two weeks, it was an intricate game of lies, bribery, and deceit. She had no stomach for it.
Fleta, after taking Saffron’s measurements and grumbling about the size of her hips, held up different swatches of fabric next to her pale skin. They did not ask her opinion on any of the materials, but she was content to just get the matter settled quickly so she could study a few more plants before darkness fell. There was an intriguing bush that grew just on the outside of the back-garden wall that was unfamiliar to her. It was thorny with only a few sprigs of spiky green leaves, so dark they were nearly black.
Verita snapped her fingers in front of Saffron’s face to get her attention. Saffron’s eyes narrowed at the woman, her first show of annoyance. Verita gazed coolly at her but took a small step back.
“We are finished. Fleta’s apprentices will have the dress ready in time for the ceremony. You are free to go,” Verita spun on her low heel and left, the servants trickling behind her. Saffron caught a glance at the sketch of the dress. It was beautiful and done in a blush as opposed to stark white. She supposed it was a slight towards her proclivities, but she didn’t care. It was gorgeous and reminded her of dawn, right before the sun peeks its rays over the horizon.
They did indeed design a high neck, but it was complemented with long lace sleeves. The bodice narrowed until it reached the hips where it spilled into a full skirt. She couldn’t wait to see the final product. Tomorrow a ball was going to be held in their honor, celebrating their marriage. She knew she would have to face the rest of the family and was dreading it but at least Elric would be there.
After she dressed and headed back to the garden, she let her mind wander to her soon to be husband. They hadn’t had another moment alone since the first night she was here. They shared meals and evening walks around the garden but Saffron could always feel that they were being watched even when she didn’t see anyone else near. At least their wedding was soon. Heat blossomed deep within her at the thought of her wedding night. Every time Elric touched her, her skin felt as if it would burn off her bones. She needed to make sure she had enough laserwort for their first few months of marriage.
Her grandmother had left her a cellar full and she only sold it to women who were in dire need and even then, it was in secret. Had she been found out, she would have been arrested surely. Thankfully, she hid it amongst her other herbs which were currently on the way to her. She had a small thimbleful in her medicine kit that she brought with her. Having a child while the country was on the brink of war would be irresponsible and she had to do what she could to prevent it for she had no intention of not lying with her future husband.
As if she had conjured him by will alone, he appeared as if born from the evening mists. He strode across the field towards the gardens, mopping sweat from his brow. His face lit up when he saw her.
“I had guessed that I would find you here, playing in the dirt,” he teased.
“I am cleaner than you,” she pointed to his clay streaked tunic and dirt-covered face.
“What, don’t you want a kiss?” he said with a laugh and moved towards her.
“Don’t you dare!” she yelled and danced away from him, laughing. He feinted left and right before grasping her hand and pulling her, protesting, into him for a kiss.
Three pairs of narrowed eyes watched them from above. “There is something about her I don’t trust,” Rosalind said, her arms crossed angrily in front of her.
“Why her? There were much more suitable and well-behaved girls that we had selected for him that would stay out of our way,” Violet replied, her eyes flashing.
“Relax, sisters. We will unravel this mystery or make it go away completely.” Gwendolyn said with a devious smile and fingered the vial full of crushed dark green powder that lay hidden in her pocket.