The bridal trousseau was a collection of garments designed specifically to make Kaia Taryn wish she had been born a peasant.
She stood behind a gilded privacy screen in the center of the East Wing sitting room, wearing nothing but her sheer white chemise and a profound sense of dread. Spread across every available surface in the room were mountains of silk, lace, satin, and ribbons.
"The wedding night is the foundation of the empire, Kaia," Victoria lectured, holding up a nightgown that appeared to be constructed entirely out of cobwebs and wishful thinking. "It is your duty to ensure Prince Beckett is... inspired. To secure the bloodline."
Kaia closed her eyes, resting her forehead against the wooden frame of the privacy screen. "Victoria, if I wear that, I will freeze to death before the bloodline is even a conceptual thought. It has no back. Or front."
