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Wren reached for her hair, and Clara slapped her hand away.

“Don’t ruin all of Ethel’s work,” her cousin chastised. “Give us a moment to get you dressed, and then you can see the finished look.”

“Very well,” Wren drawled as Clara pulled her from her seat.

She groaned, rubbed at her rear, and then scowled at the old wooden stool. She’d sat on the uncomfortable thing for way too long. She glanced back at the bed and moaned when Clara held up an intricate corset and wiggled her brows.

“Not the torture device,” she complained, even as she shed her robe and lifted her hands.

Clara slipped the corset over her hands and head, the cool silk settling down on her breasts, chest, and waist. “Think of it as wrapping paper. I know Rowen will,” Clara joked.

Ethel gasped and placed her hands on her hips. “That’s enough of that.”

“Come on,” Clara needled. “You’re not so innocent as to how babes are created.”

Wren grinned at her bashful cousin, who spluttered and then snatched hose and garters from the bed. She stomped over and knelt to help Wren put them on as Clara began to lace up the corset.

“Just because I have knowledge of something, it doesn’t mean it should be talked about.”

“It’s a natural thing,” Wren murmured.

“You’re not wrong,” Ethel said begrudgingly. “I just don’t want to hear about Rowen and yourself.” Her shy cousin mock-shuddered.

“I, on the other hand, want to knowallabout Rowen,” Clara said cheekily, tying the corset tighter.

Wren tried to smack her cousin on the shoulder, but Clara danced out of the way and picked up a floor-length, see-through chemise from the trunk at the end of the bed. She carefully eased it over Wren’s hair as Ethel finished tying the garters in place and stood. Her handmaidens reached for her wedding dress and held it out.

“You’ll have to step inside it,” Ethel explained.

Wren hitched up her chemise and carefully stepped into the dress. Fabric rustled as her cousins helped her slip her arms into the long draping sleeves that sat on the edge of her shoulders. She ran her hands along the deep-blue velvet bodice that cinched her waist and cut in a straight line across her bust.

“It’s not as heavy as I thought it would be,” she said, rubbing the midnight-blue velvet between her fingers.

“Your mother is a witch, I swear,” Clara responded. “I have no idea where she conjured this fabric from.”

“I love it,” Wren whispered when she peeked over her shoulder at the flowing skirt that trailed behind her. There was no lace or gauze or revealing cuts to the fabric, but even without such mainland fashions, the dress was resplendent in its clean simplicity.

Her cousins spun Wren slowly until she faced the looking glass that rested in the corner behind her door. Her breath caught. The jewel-toned fabric, coupled with her fiery hair and the spring flowers, was a sight to behold.

She looked like a true Princess of Lorne.

Her eyes watered, and she willed herself not to cry. “Thank you so much for your help.”

Clara and Ethel crowded in on each of her sides and kissed her cheeks.

A door-shaking knock interrupted the moment. There was only one person who announced his presence like he was coming straight through the door.

“Come in, Papa,” Wren called.

The king opened the door and froze, his coffee eyes widening.

Her father cut a striking figure in his ceremonial, embroidered teal jacket, white lace-up shirt, and tartan kilt. The royal tartan was all blues and greens shot through with silver—a beautiful yet stormy sea perfectly captured in the color of the threads. King Oswin was only a handsbreadth taller than she, but he, nevertheless, was built like a barrel. Summer after summer, he tossed the tallest and heaviest of logs during the summer games, despite his age. His long black braids were pulled back into a simple knot, highlighting the strong angles of his swarthy face.

Her cousins gave her one last hug before exiting the room.

He stepped away from the door and closed it. He twirled his finger in a circle. “Let me see the whole thing.”

Wren grinned and slowly spun around, so he could see her entire ensemble. She gave her father a smile and held her arms out to her sides. “Better than the navy uniform, wouldn’t you say?”