Without leaving me space to protest, Alastor shifts into his fox form just as Alicia slams the door open, obviously tired of waiting. Sparks of white and gold light tail him as he skitters hurriedly out into the hallway and down the seemingly never ending corridors of the palace, and I am sure that if I had seen his face, he would be grinning. Alicia- my maid and a second long time childhood friend of mine (obviously the more sensible of us all) yelps as he goes running, lifting up her excessively large amounts of skirts in shock to pull herself out of the way. I snicker as the door squeaks closed behind her, the look on her slender, dark face priceless.
Then I remember what Alastor did and pipe down.
There had always been some tender romantic disposition between the two of us: two wild child's of the forest who battled imaginary monsters with paper swords- or real ones when we felt brave enough. Both disinclined to listen to any rule or regulation that may be thrown at us, and both of us having a rather bad habit of not doing what we were told. Being a kitsune, it is only natural that he is rather more the sly creature of the two of us. I would hedge a bet that he knew exactly what he was doing kissing me before my wedding, but I do not hate him for it.
Part of me wishes I could reciprocate some of it, if only out of desperation and to spite my mother.
I brush my fingers over the swell of my lips, a light blush forming once again on my cheeks.
"Not funny, Elowyn!" Alicia seeths, throwing down the garments she had brought up for me on the bed in utter disbelief. Desperately, I cover my mouth in an attempt to hide my giggling smile, but the efforts are next to pointless. Angrily, she puts her hands on her hips, her full lips pulled down into a snarl.
Here we go.
"You know how the Queen is about Alastor- he's a bad influence on you. And look at you- red as a beet! What did he do to you? Kiss you?"
I purse my lips, staying stubbornly silent, thinking perhaps if for once I am obedient she might just brush over the matter. No such luck. By contrast, that is the worst thing I could have done, because next minute she says:
"By the heavens, he did, didn't he? He kissed you," she gives a groaning sigh, slapping a hand against her forehead. "That vixen- I swear, next time I see him I will have his guts for garters. And on your wedding day no less!"
"He kisses better than that Prince ever will," I grumble, folding my arms around myself irritably. If only Alastor didn't have to leave. Things would have been much more interesting then. But Alicia, dear, sweet Alicia, is having none of it. She runs her hand through her dark ringlets, obviously fuming as she roles her eyes back into her head.
"Listen to me young lady. This wedding will go on, whether you like it, or not. Running away from your duties as the next Queen will do nothing, and neither will kissing that fox."
"His name is Alastor," I growl bluntly, but Alicia waves me off.
"The Queen made it perfectly clear that a romantic arrangement between you two would never, ever, happen, he is much too low a status. So please, Princess. Drop whatever act you are trying to pull, your fate has been laid out for you, and you need to follow it."
Grimacing, Alicia pinches the bridge of her nose in a failed attempt to quell her exasperation. Clearly, there is more she would like to say, but with time running out, and the pressing influence of the Queen waiting downstairs, she stems her rage.
Angrily, I puff out my cheeks, my blood boiling under my skin. I debate cussing, screaming, and all manner of tactics I have used in the past to rid myself of unwanted attention, but none of them seem particularly favourable.
Fate. Everything these people talk about is 'fate' and 'destiny'. My fate, the fate of the kingdom, that I have to fulfil my shitty so called destiny- it gets awfully boring after a while. But destiny to what? Just because I've had some prophecy written about me by some old magic geezer from a far off kingdom, that doesn't mean I am special. I've never seen fate in action, or destiny, so why should I choose to believe it? Besides, the Queen always refused to tell me the prophecy, and so as a result I have only heard snippets from fearful nobility over dinner tables in hushed whispers.
Alastor never talked about fate. Maybe that's why I like him so much.
Alicia's commanding voice jolts me from my thoughts.
"Right, I have got seven minutes to get you changed and ready. I promised the Queen you would look spectacular, so don't even think about messing with me. Now chop chop, get yourself changed, there will be no more mucking about today."
In bitter silence, I strip out of my pyjamas and begin pulling on the dress. Ordinarily, I would never wear such a monstrosity- in my opinion, dresses- especially wedding dresses- are the epitome of all things evil. Restrictive, tight, uncomfortable, and awfully difficult to run in when you are trying to escape an angry group of guards after pelting them with stardust. But today is the wedding day, and absolutely nothing is going my way. Had I even thought about daring to ask my mother to wear trousers instead of a dress- not that I would otherwise I might just end up being smacked into the next kingdom over- I would surely be the disgrace of the whole kingdom. I grumble a sigh. I bet they let you wear pants to a wedding in hell. No one cares what happens down there.
Working quickly under the threat of the clock, Alicia begins tying up my hair into a pleated knot, sticking an elegant silver comb inside just to keep everything together. I am sure it looks lovely: Alicia's handiwork has always been the best in Vriryn, she even runs her own hair saloon down in the town. It was one of the reasons why my mother hired her in the first place- her excellent craftmanship is renowned throughout the palace. But as lovely as it looks, I would much rather not be doing this at all: instead perhaps riding out into the enchanted forest, or going to steal some apples from the orchards on the far end of town, even the boring weekly dancing lessons my mother forced me to attend. Anything, anything but this wedding.
"You're done," Alicia says at last, leaning back to survey her handiwork. She inspects one side of my head, then the next, patting down the diamonds and clips one last time just to ensure they stay in place.
"Alright, your mother is waiting for you in the throne room. Better get down there quick, she doesn't like to be kept waiting."
"Got it," I huff. I don't need reminding of that fact- I've had to deal with her incessant nagging my entire life.
"Remember to smile at the Prince, Elowyn. And don't mess with my hairstyle." Alicia calls, her green eyes glowing like emeralds against her dark skin. I wrinkle my nose.
Alicia, in the classically prudent way that is apparent of most elves, has a rather charming but equally annoying disposition to keep everything pristine and perfect. Coming from a long line of rather established woodland elves, she could never quite understand the wild joy Alastor and I got out of our reckless adventures. Out of the three of us, she was always the 'mum' friend, attempting rather admirably every day to pull me back into civilization and away from the 'bad influences' that Alastor brought with him. The two of them never did see eye to eye, and getting along with them both simultaneously became even more difficult the older we got. It is only in the recent weeks leading up to the wedding that the two of them have gotten remarkably more possessive over me, for obvious reasons.
"Yeah, okay Alicia. No touchy, I get it. See you at the wedding," I say, half hearted and already losing interest. Then without another word, I make my way out of the room, and straight to my mother.