The Prince’s Bride – Part 2 (The Prince’s Bride #2) Read Online J.J. McAvoy

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Prince's Bride Series by J.J. McAvoy
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Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
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“I know, ma’am.”

“I pray for all of our sakes that you do.”

Snip.

Chapter 16

My dress for the Royal Bellecoeur Garden Party was a modest soft-pink, knee-length, long-sleeved, tailored-bodice cocktail, and I did not like it. It was not that it was ugly; it was just very church mother-ish. However, the queen had chosen it, so I said nothing. In fact, she had personally selected every piece of jewelry, my shoes, my clutch, and even my makeup for today, choosing how she wished me to look. And I said I would just accept it all. However, as I sat in the chair to get my hair done, I regretted that.

“Wait,” I said when she brought out a flat iron.

“Her Majesty says you will wear it straight today,” my new hairstylist said.

I could not remember her name, and in all honesty, I did not think she would last long. She was the sixth in what felt like a disappointing, never-ending line of hairstylists Gelula had searched for and brought back to me with hope shimmering in her eyes.

I tried to give each one at least a single try. Some weren’t that bad, but they weren’t great, either. Now this stranger's first job would be to straighten my hair. I could not remember the last time I had straightened my hair. Even though I always complained about combing it out and wrapping it up and taking care of it, I loved it as it was.

“If we do not start now, we won’t finish in time,” the stylist said, and I followed her gaze in the reflection of the mirror.

There, standing at attention, was Gelula and the queen’s assistant just watching. And it made me feel worse. I knew their jobs were to stay and help in any way they could, but part of me felt like they were just watching out of curiosity. I was not a zoo animal.

“May I start?” the stylist asked.

I wanted to say no.

But instead, I nodded.

And so, she began to take my curls, section by section, through the hot plates, pressing them out till they were bone straight. Each time she did, I saw my hair fall. I couldn’t help but wonder how I was not a zoo animal. I hadn’t left this cage in weeks. I could not go anywhere, not that I knew where to go. But still, I was locked in. Being trained to walk and sit and eat the way they wanted me to.

I was a zoo animal.

This was a circus.

And I had walked right into it.

So, I could not say anything.

It took almost three hours before she finished, and I could see the final product.

“Wow, you look so beautiful,” Gelula gushed, grinning from ear to ear.

Did I not before?

“Miss?” Gelula’s smile dropped, and her eyes widened.

I did not know why until the tear came out of my eye. “Oh, my God,” I said, quickly grabbing a tissue to touch up under my eye. They all looked very concerned, even the stylist. “Sor—I mean, I’m just happy with it. Thanks to you.” I stood up and turned to the almost half-dozen people, all trying to help me prepare. “Really, thank you all.”

“You will do amazing today,” Gelula said with confidence.

“From your lips to God’s ears,” I replied.

I can do this. I will do this.

“You are fidgeting again, sir,” Iskandar whispered from behind me as I waited down the hall for Odette to step outside of the room.

“Let me fidget. No one else is here to see anyway,” I muttered back, checking my watch. We were not late. I just needed something to distract myself. Today was the big day, and I was not sure if the discomfort I felt was due to nerves or a general sense of awkwardness. In a way, it was ironic. I had worked so hard to get closer to Odette, wanting not to look like every other stiff, cold, and heartless couple who came out to their engagement events only to feel just like that anyway.

This is going to be okay.

Once this is over, we can both relax a bit more, and it will get better. I lied to myself because there would always be some other event, like our wedding. Oh God, our wedding—we had not even begun to talk about it. I did not want to think about it. I reached up to run my hands through my hair, but a firm grip stopped me. I turned to Iskandar to see him frowning.

“Sir, you both will survive this. Now, please stop fidgeting. You will ruin your hair,” he said.

I chuckled. It was the only amusing thing I’d heard in a while. “Iskandar, I did not think you cared so much. I expect this kind of thing from Wolfgang.”

He made a face at the mention of Wolfgang’s name, so I had something new to distract myself with. “What is it with you two? Why are you always so hard on him?”



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