Page 44 of Not-So-Perfect Princess
“I knew this was a good idea,” Enrique said in a low, but singsong manner.
Alejandro gritted this teeth. “A bride should choose her own gown.”
“This was part of the wedding negotiations with King Alaric.”
“The king approves of Julianna wearing a dress you picked out?” Alejandro asked.
Enrique nodded. “King Alaric paid for all of this, including the wedding gown I commissioned months ago. The old fool is so desperate to have grandchildren he agrees to anything I ask for. He’s giving me an extra ten million if I keep Julianna from ever sailing again. Imagine that.”
“I can’t.” Outrage tightened Alejandro’s jaw until it ached. For that amount of money, Enrique would never change his mind about Julianna sailing again. “Especially since she seems to enjoy the sport.”
“She’ll get over it.” Enrique’s brush-off bothered Alejandro more than usual. “Remember, she has me. That will be enough for her.”
His brother’s uncaring attitude roused Alejandro’s protective instincts. Someone had to take a stand for her. “Julianna might be happier if—”
Enrique cut him off. “Her happiness isn’t my priority. I only care about her dowry, ability to produce heirs and obeying my orders.”
Alejandro had never seen his brother act so callous. “This is wrong.”
“I’m treating her the way she expects to be treated. Women in Aliestle are used to being ordered about. It’s all they know.”
“Enrique, don’t—”
“Enough.” Enrique sneered. “If you say a word to Julianna or Brandt about any of this, I’ll shut down the Med Cup this year.”
“You can’t cancel the race.”
“I can, and I will.”
With the threat hanging in air, he strutted toward the others like a proud peacock.
Alejandro seethed. He needed his brother to marry if he wanted to be released from his princely duties and obligations. But what would the cost of that freedom be?
He stared at Julianna. She touched the skirt of the wedding dress with a hesitant hand. She claimed marrying Enrique was better than returning to Aliestle. Alejandro had his doubts.
The women in pink removed the frothy confection of a wedding gown from the mannequin. Julianna and her maid followed them behind a white, fabric-paneled screen.
Enrique’s threat made it impossible for Alejandro to take action. Not that he could stop the royal wedding since Julianna wanted to marry his brother. But Alejandro could do something else.
He could make the Med Cup race memorable for Julianna. He could show her how skilled and talented she was. He could make her see she deserved the best from the crew, the staff and most especially, her husband.
That was the least Alejandro could do for the beautiful princess bride. And he would.
I look like a puff pastry.
Jules stared at her reflection in the three-part mirror with horror. She couldn’t believe Enrique wanted her to wear this monstrosity at their wedding. She’d thought for a few short moments he’d wanted to make her happy and gone to all this trouble to make her feel…special. But he hadn’t.
Do you really think Enrique’s going to send you back to Aliestle and walk away from a hundred-million-dollar dowry because you went sailing?
Alejandro’s words reaffirmed what she knew in her heart and her mind. Enrique only cared about her dowry. He’d made it sound like all this had been for her, but it was really for him. She’d overheard the manicurist talking to the hairstylist about putting together a list of improvements for the crown prince. No one cared about Jules’s opinion.
Thank goodness Enrique hadn’t stuck around long. Otherwise she might have said something impolite. At least she didn’t feel quite so guilty about agreeing to sail in the Med Cup and going behind his back.
One of the women in pink raised the hem of the dress. Tulle scratched Jules leg. “We’ll need to add another ruffle.”
No. Her stomach churned. Not another ruffle. The dress had too many as it was.
She inhaled to calm herself. The potent mixture of the different perfumes the women wore made her cough. Her eyes watered.
Delia, the dress designer, and her team jotted notes and marked the dress with pins.
