The Chronicles of Lucitopia: Book One: Illustrated Girl by Josephine Angelini

Author:Josephine Angelini [Angelini, Josephine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9798985581072
Publisher: Homecooked Entertainment, Inc.
Published: 2023-01-28T00:00:00+00:00

11

LIGHTS! CAMERA! KNIVES!

I step out of the carriage.

Every girl has that dream of walking down the stairs and making the jaws drop and the music stop. Her skin glows, and her hair is a shining mass of gorgeousness and the dress—oh, honey. The dress. The dress is the icing on the cake, and who eats the cake, right?

I’ve had that dream of being that girl. Let’s be honest—that’s why most girls want a big wedding. They want that door to open and for everyone to fall over in awe.

Spoiler alert, it doesn’t happen for me in the pink dress.

Sure, jaws drop. I get a whistle from a few of the minstrels, and then Torvold gallops over on Thunder and says, “That dress is entirely inappropriate.”

He dismounts, grabs my arm, turns me around, and starts pushing me back up the steps of the cart.

“What?” I say, nearly choking on my indignation. “I will wear whatever I want, thank you very much!”

“A woman’s person is her own, and she may display it as she sees fit. But I made an oath when you gave me your maiden’s circlet, and since I would rather not have to kill half the men in Market Town defending your virtue, you will find something else to wear or you will stay inside the cart for the rest of the trip!” he growls at me. Then he shoves me inside and shuts the door.

I hear Rancor knicker outside, like he’s laughing at me. I stand there staring at Tudie, Dex, and Gertie for a moment. To be honest, I’m relieved. While I firmly believe that any woman has the right to wear whatever she likes, I don’t really like this dress. I’m not comfortable walking around worrying that one of my boobs is going to come flying out if I take too deep of a breath. And I like to be able to take deep breaths, which the pink dress does not allow me to do. Also, I’d rather avoid senseless bloodshed if I can.

“I think it best we find something else,” I state.

“Well, there’s this green velvet one,” Tudie suggests cheerfully. She holds it up, and it’s perfect.

Simple, elegant, old-fashioned maybe, but well-cut and made of high-quality material.

I put it on and it fits, although in keeping with the style of the minstrels, it is a little snug around the bosom. I’m high and tight, but I’m not tumbling out of anything.

The delicately puffed cap sleeves drape over the outermost portion of my shoulders, leaving a lot of skin. But it’s only neck, shoulder, and upper-chest skin, and not flagrant cleavage or side-boob. The dress isn’t perfect. I don’t like that I don’t have sleeves for my blades, and that the bodice is too tight for anything sharp. I’ll have to get by with just two daggers in my garters. Luckily, this skirt is easy to pull up. I’m not going to spend too much time thinking about why.

I decide to put my hair half up.

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