The Dragon Prince's Bride
Chapter 63. Dressed like a Tragonian

Chapter 63: 63. Dressed like a Tragonian

Neriah had no intention to fight him that morning, nor was she in the mood to do so. She had simply strolled into the bathroom, washed her face and cleansed her teeth, now she was standing across from him with the table of food between them.

"Have you washed your teeth well?" He suddenly asked and she stared at him incredulously, twirling a goblet in his hand. What kind of vulgar man asks a lady such questions? She had no response for him. She had no intention of eating with him and she also had no intention of starving herself any longer.

"Did you use your tooth polisher and the tooth cream?" What was wrong with the man!! What sort of question was he asking her? She chose to ignore him, if she was going to have to deal with him she could as well start to learn how not to allow him get on her nerves. Besides, she was going to escape from him sooner or later. He was not worth her stress.

"Why are there no maids to serve the food?" She simply asked as she realized she’d have to dish out her own meal. His response to her question was a slight shrug of his shoulder as he sipped from his goblet.

She was going to ignore him. Yes she was. So she picked up her plate and added a variety of food onto it. With the same grace, she poured herself a cup of fresh apple juice and swung her hips back to the chair that she woke up from.

"Have you decided to quit your fast?" He was mocking her. She knew he was mocking her, but she wasn’t going to get agitated. It clearly gave him some kind of joy to watch her get angry. She wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction. She had decided that the time she used in exchanging words with him, she’d rather use in planning her escape. So quietly, she ate her meal.

"You should eat a lot. Although your cheeks still look as round as the night I first saw you, we do not want you losing weight still." He said and Neriah could only wonder why he was trying to talk to her. Was he seriously trying to agitate her? She refused to be stressed by him that morning.

"Your things are being loaded onto the ship as we speak, no wait—" he paused as he took a sip of whatever was in that goblet he was holding, "—everything should have been loaded by now." He noted.

"All that is left is for us to say goodbye to your parents and we shall be heading back to Trago. So take your time with your meal, there is no rush. After your meal, the maids will come and help you with your bath. I as your husband would most definitely have loved to help you but as you can see I am already dressed." His words were so vulgar! What kind of prince would speak in such way? Everything he did always reminded her he was a barbarian with no class and manners. And yet she flushed. With anger of course! Why else would she flush? She was in no way affected by his words. She just flushed with anger.

"Once you are dressed and ready, we shall visit your parents and pay our respects as husband and wife. Then we shall leave for Trago. It will be a very long journey, so inform me if you shall be in need of anything before we go aboard the ship." Maybe he had realized that no matter what he said to her that morning, she wasn’t going to respond to him, or maybe he had just finished saying all he had to. But after those words, he placed his goblet back on the table, uncrossed his legs and rose to his full length.

Slowly, he walked toward the door but as his hand touched the door knob, he paused and without looking at her, he said, "Trago is not as bad as you think. You shall love it there. This I assure you." And he was out of the door. The room was silent again.

"I shall love it?" She snorted, "I do not even love the man I am married to so how will I love his home?" His words were nothing but a fool’s declarations in her ears.

Like he had told her, after a while, some maids had entered the room. She had no desire to fight them either. So she had bathed and they had brought her dress for the day. It was a foreign dress. She had not seen that style or pattern of dress before. It wasn’t the usual princess ball gown she was used to. Seeing the color being orange she could tell that her dear husband had provided it for her.

She hated him. And although beautiful in its own way, she hated the dress because it reminded her of him. But she wore it still.

After the maids helped her into the dress, she stood before the mirror staring at her reflection. She could not deny it, and she hated that fact. But the dress was beautiful. It had a simple and yet complicated design. She had never worn a dress without sleeves before. Except her nightgowns. So it was a bit uncomfortable but apart from that it was beautiful.

The style on the neck of the dress was one she had never seen before. The maids had told her it was called a cowl neck. The bodice of the dress had no corset and was fitted still, and it made breathing so much easier. Below her waist was pleated like a ladies hand fan spread to its full capacity, yet falling in a beautiful wave. What was more fascinating about the dress was how it remained fitted to her hips, only to fall into a pattern of the capital letter A at from her mid-thighs down to her feet. Beginning from the center of her back underneath her hips was a long extension that looked like the tail of a parakeet.

And as if that wasn’t enough, the dress was further beautified by green threads of beads dropping with the cowl neck and tiny pieces of green stones starting from her mid-thigh to the end of the tail of the dress.

For sure it was beautiful. Maybe because she had never seen anything like it, but it was certainly the most beautiful dress she had ever seen. But also she had never hated any dress more. Because she was certain it was from him. The maids confirmed it too.

How did he even know her size? Did he prepare it from their hometown? How is the dress her perfect fit? She would never ask.

What was more annoying was that her tattoos that she got thanks to him were completely visible. There was no way to hide it with this type of dress. In fact the tattoos seemed to go well with the dress. Like it was a pattern attached to the dress. And it was beautiful. So beautiful that she wished to tear it off her skin.

Her hair was styled in a beautiful rose bun with green ornaments lacing it. Neriah snorted at her reflection in the mirror. How was she more beautiful today than on her own wedding day? Now she was looking like a bride while on her wedding day, a day that was supposed to be once in a lifetime, on such a special day, she looked worse than a beggar.

Lords, she hated her life. And by all the gods she would escape this life. She could not live like this for all eternity.

...

Patiently, Barak waited to be notified that she was ready. He stood amidst his men going over little details one last time before they left but his mind was not really in their midst.

He wondered what she would look like in Tragonian attire. He had conjured up the image in his head, and used his fire powers to create a small figure of what he had imagined. And even in his imagination, she was breathtaking. Would she like the dress? He had no idea, but he hoped she did. He hoped she would accept it and not fight to wear something else.

He desperately wanted to see her in the dress. "Your Highness," One of the knights called out to him. "Her Highness is ready." He announced and Barak fought a smile that tugged at his lips as he instantly left his men and went towards the room she stayed in.

Would she still refuse to talk to me? Barak wondered as he reached the door to the room. Oh well, even though she refuses to talk to me, she is my wife now. That fact is not going to change.

With a deep breath, he pushed the door open and stepped into the room...

"Dear Lord Narcissus," He muttered to his god as he stared at her back that was turned to him."I’d die and I still will not allow her fall into the arms of another."

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Hey everyone, scroll down to the comment section to get a glimpse of Neriah’s dress...

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