“What is that?” I glanced at the clock; it wasn’t even dawn. “This was your mother’s coronation gown.” She turned on the light and hung the gown from the top of the wardrobe. Though there were likely several layers of paper for protection, the whole package seemed bigger than necessary. At least twice the size of any normal gown. “I thought you might wear it today. It was her mother’s before her, too.” So it was old, out of fashion, and probably ready to fall apart. That seemed appropriate. I rinsed my face and mouth before allowing her to measure me. She was quick and gentle, and muttered numbers to herself as she went. The whole time, the gown waited beneath its packaging, huge and mysterious. “You’re taller than your mother,” said Rosanne. “And skinnier. We can let out some of the hem and take in some of the seams, but you won’t fill it out, I’m afraid.” “I’m used to it.” I stepped off the measuring stool and started for the washroom again. The coronation was at noon, the ball in the evening, and then I’d be back to running the kingdom, this time with actual authority.
What do You think about The Mirror King (Orphan Queen)?
