Gowns, Gossip, and Glorious Chaos

It started, as most catastrophes in my life seemed to, with a knock on my chamber door.

I was just in the middle of contemplating how I could politely fake an illness to avoid the upcoming royal banquet (not that it'd ever work, but a girl could dream), when the door creaked open, and in strutted none other than my dear stepmother, Lora.

"Cecilia," she sang sweetly, which instantly put me on high alert. Nothing good ever followed that tone. "You haven't forgotten, have you? We need to get your banquet dress today."

I blinked at her, momentarily tempted to pretend I had, indeed, forgotten how to human.

Unfortunately, she marched right in, plopping herself on the edge of my bed like she owned the place.

"I was thinking," she continued, eyes sparkling mischievously, "we should all go together. You, me, and… oh, Ms. Lyria, of course."