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Soon the day of the gala came around. The whole of Crysauralia was buzzing with news of the princes and there was a lot of talk about a coronation. The government was still trying to stir things up by saying the princes might be completely incompetent and that the royal family was hiding something but no-one cared. Of course, no-one suspected that Ashton was one of the princes.

Jackson had spent the entire morning giving me a tour of the palace. I had a short lesson with Madame Lucille where we went over some of the stuff I needed to remember for tonight. I hadn’t seen the king or queen but I knew I would see them later.

After spending the rest of the time sleeping and reading, I was ushered into a room where I was pampered with a very long skin care routine. I had a fresh manicure and pedicure done and had my hair was rewashed.

It felt so soft, like a silky cloud and I couldn’t stop myself from running my fingers through it all evening. After that, I was rushed into another room filled with dressing rooms and mirrors. A tall, slim man, poring over a clipboard looked up at me.

“Ah, you’re here,” he said, gliding over to me.

His eyes swept over my body and I shifted awkwardly under the piercing gaze of his eyes. He tutted and motioned for me to follow him.

“I’m Alexandre and I will be your stylist for tonight’s ball,” he said over his shoulder as we walked. I noticed his thick Fleuran accent. He called a lady over who was holding a dark garment bag. She gave me a small smile as she handed it to him.

“I received your measurements and I have the perfect dress for tonight,” he said, unzipping the bag.

He produced a strapless silk dress that flowed to the floor in a jet black wave.

“This piece was designed for you by the royal designer Gabaccino,” he said, thrusting it at me. “Change into it.”

I stepped into one of the dressing rooms and slipped the dress on. I ran my hands down the silk material. It was smooth and hugged my body comfortably. It was suitable for a princess to be, but still very modern. After putting it on, I could see that there was a split that came up just above my knee.

Alexandre was waiting outside with a box and he whistled as I stepped through the velvet curtains. I walked over to him slowly, trying not to trip over the dress. I was kind of hoping my dress would have been the floor length kind that you couldn’t see under because I just wanted to wear flats and call it a night.

“Yes,” he nodded, circling around me. “This dress is the one.”

He handed me a silk dressing gown and after I’d put it on, he sank me into one of the salon chairs and barked instructions to a lady. In no time she was curling my hair while another painted on my face.

When they were done, they stepped back so I could inspect myself in the mirror. I gasped, bringing a hand up to my face. My blue eyes that I usually didn’t pay attention to, looked bigger and their color popped against the makeup. I still looked like me, but yet I felt so different.

“And for the finishing touches,” Alexandre mumbled, moving along a line of women holding jewelry boxes. “I want these earrings, that necklace and that bracelet. Give her those rings.”

After accessorizing me, he opened a box which had an incredibly high pair of golden heels. The shoes were gorgeous. They were they type you’d pick up and stare at in the store, but put them back when you were leaving. I doubt I could stand in those, much less walk in them.

I was too clumsy and I’d end up falling and dragging the entire tablecloth down with me, ruining dinner.

“Umm…” I started, backing away as he came closer with the heels. “Maybe I should wear something with a shorter heel.”

“No, no,” he tutted. “It must be these ones.”

“But I can’t walk in those,” I protested.

Alexandre pursed his lips as I moved behind the salon chair. We stared at each other, refusing to back down.

“Ladies,” he snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “Get her.”

I tried to dash between them, but in a few seconds I’d been caught and Alexandre grinned triumphantly as they strapped the golden heels to my feet. I stood up shakily, feeling like I was eight feet tall. Alexandre steered me over to a full length mirror so I could admire his work.

“You’re ready, my lady,” he smiled, still looking pleased with himself. “Remember to smi- stop looking down at the ground,” he scolded as I tested out the stilts they’d given me. “You will be introduced as Prince Ashton’s betrothed tonight. All the royals will be watching your every move. Do not embarrass yourself.”

“You just made that ten times harder,” I sighed, glaring at the golden stilts. “I’m a walking hazard now.”

“Just be confident,” he waved, ignoring my obvious dislike for the shoes. “Mirror His Royal Highness. He always portrays his confidence and ease. Tonight, you must be like that too. Show them that although you’re not a royal, you still belong there.”

He helped me to remove my dressing gown. “I’ve dressed more girls that you can count, and I know when an outfit looks good. I bet your prince won't be able to keep his eyes off you. You look stunning, so put your best foot forward, Elizabeth.”

I gave him a small smile and he patted my shoulder and handed me a purse. “It’s time.”

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