Superstitions

As the attendants rose to their feet to assist me back to the dressing room, a commanding voice brought me to a sudden stop. "Wait, Amelia."

I paused and turned around slowly, meeting the intense gaze of Prince Cassius standing before me. His piercing blue eyes were fixed on me, his expression unreadable. Seeing this, the Queen eyes her son doubtfully. "Cassius, why did you stop Amelia?" she inquired. "You know, she needs to get out of that dress quickly or else —"

"Mother," Prince Cassius cut in, his eyes still firmly locked on me, his gaze unwavering. "I want Amelia to wear this wedding gown on the day of our wedding." 

The Queen inhaled sharply, taken aback by her son's request. Her eyes, along with those of everyone else in the room, grew wide with shock and surprise. I gazed at them, perplexed as I wondered what the problem was with wearing a dress made for someone else. 

What was this curse they were talking about?