"I'm dying, Lila!"
"Please breathe, My Lady! Just a little more!"
Lila's hands worked like a madwoman possessed, yanking on the corset strings like my ribs were a piñata full of gold and candy. Every tug felt like I was being reshaped into a human hourglass against my will.
"This... is murder!" I gasped, clawing at the bedpost for dear life. My lungs felt like shriveled raisins. "Do you want me to faint again? I swear, if I die, I'll haunt you."
"My Lady, please," Lila begged, beads of sweat forming on her brow. "The Duke insists on perfection. He was very clear about it! You can't just go wearing anything."
Perfection, my ass. Why couldn't men of power just demand sanity for once?
"If I die... You better tell that Duke of ours," I wheezed, "that this is how women die! Not in battles or plots. Death by... fashion! That too to please stupid men like him."
"How can you say such things about your father so casually, My Lady? You were so dignified earlier before you shot Prince Kael. "Lila bit her lip, probably stifling a giggle, but she didn't let up. "But, I suppose it's good to see your personality return back to those of your childhood days."
Evelina? Dignified? The same Evelina who slapped Countess Erica for smiling at Adrian? Is Lily blind?
Oh no! I should be kinder to Lily.
Lila pulled once more, and I felt my ribs whispering prayers to whichever god corset-makers worshipped.
"Done!" she chirped triumphantly, tying off the strings with the speed of someone who wanted to be far away from my wrath.
I stumbled to the mirror, feeling like a freshly squeezed lemon. The corset had done its job. My waist was cinched, my posture was upright, and my ability to breathe was minimal. A truly Victorian dream.
"Beautiful," Lila gushed, clasping her hands together.
"Beautifully suffocating," I corrected, tugging at the bodice. "If I survive today, it'll be out of sheer spite. How do women breathe in this thing!?"
Lila stifled a laugh, the corners of her mouth twitching as she reached for the gown laid out on the bed. "I can't believe you are complaining, My Lady. However, please remember your words. It takes practice and wear a corset while forgetting you are wearing a corset. A lady must always make sacrifices to look her best."
I stared at her, horrified. "Forget? Lila, I can feel my ribs planning a rebellion. There is no forgetting this."
Lila didn't respond, simply holding up the gown like a battlefield medic preparing for the next round.
"Fine," I muttered, resigned. "Let's get this over with before the Duke decides to send in the hounds or something."
As Lila slipped the gown over my head, I marveled at how something so beautiful could feel like a death sentence.
The fabric was luxurious, shimmering under the soft morning light, but every inch of it screamed too much. Layers upon layers, each tighter than the last, until I felt like a life-sized doll instead of an actual human being.
"Perfect," Lila said, stepping back to admire her handiwork.
I turned to the mirror, bracing myself. The reflection staring back at me was... well, stunning, I had to admit. The gown hugged every curve in a way that screamed "Princess of the Dukedom," but the dark circles under my eyes and the slight grimace on my lips told a different story.
"Beautiful," Lila whispered, her voice full of pride.
I sighed, fluffing the skirt dramatically. "If beauty is pain, I'm the goddamn Mona Lisa."
---
The grand hallways of the estate were quieter than usual, the usual buzz of maids and servants eerily absent. It was as if the entire estate had collectively decided that today was a day to tread lightly.
"Where is everyone?" I asked Lila, who was trailing behind me like a nervous shadow.
"The Duke dismissed most of the staff for the morning," she explained. "He didn't want any distractions during your... meeting. He said if anyone is caught eavesdropping their tongue will be cut off."
Wow... Like father, like daughter. Crazy, much?
"Let me guess," I said dryly. "He's sitting in his throne of doom, practicing his 'I'm not mad, just disappointed' speech?"
Lila didn't answer, which was answer enough.
---
The Duke was exactly where I expected him to be: seated at the head of the long dining table, his hands clasped in front of him and his expression carved from stone.
"Father," I greeted, dipping into a polite curtsy that somehow didn't make me topple over.
Small miracles.
"Evelina," he said, his voice as cold as the morning frost. "Sit."
I obeyed, settling into the chair across from him as gracefully as my corset would allow.
For a moment, the room was silent, save for the faint crackle of the fireplace. I waited, knowing he'd speak first. The Duke wasn't one for wasting words.
"You've been... reckless," he said finally, each word measured like he was weighing them on a scale.
"I fainted," I replied, feigning innocence. "It happens to the best of us."
His gaze hardened, and I felt my sass retreating like a scolded puppy.
"Reckless. You didn't faint. I used my magic to make you faint." He spoke, his tone sharper now. "You shot Prince Kael, Evelina. Do you have any idea what kind of fire you've ignited?"
Oh right! The Duke was an Archmage.
"I grazed him," I corrected, crossing my arms. "And he deserved it."
I cannot make any mistake. I must act like Evelina even if I have little information. One slip and he'll have my head.
"Deserved it?" The Duke's voice rose, echoing in the empty room. "He is a prince! You cannot go around shooting royalty just because you feel slighted!"
"Well," I said, leaning back in my chair, "maybe 'the cursed prince' shouldn't have been breathing the same air as me."
The Duke's jaw tightened, and I could see the vein in his temple throbbing. "It has been 11 years since that matter, Evelina! Just let it go!"
What matter? Lily told me Evelina called my baby 'cursed prince' when she was 10. What is the story behind it?
Let's just play along.
"Oh, it's not!" I shot back, my voice dripping with venom I could have never possessed in an entire lifetime. "I will never let it go!"
The Duke pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a prayer for patience.
"Your Grace, Prince Kael has arrived."