Chapitre 8: The Dress
Ursula woke up feeling determined. She was not just hell-bent on successfully executing her plans but also doing it with little or no resistance. So she prayed. She prayed that Maria would wake up in a good mood. That she would not resist when it's time to carry out these plans, which she believed with her whole heart was necessary for the battle ahead.
She ended her prayer with a bit of promise to donate a mouth-watering amount to church if her prayers were answered. Finally, she was done. She stood up from the bed and proceeded to the large mirror in her room. There was no doubting Maria's generosity as a host. She had given Ursula the go-ahead to design the room to her taste and trusted Ursula not to fail.
She chuckled at the worried expression that stared back at her. Growing up, people would whisper about the German princess with spineless blood. She was not as strong as everyone else, neither was she interested in the things they liked.
She was the awkward, shy nerd with an annoying intelligence that supposedly belonged to boys. Her parents were too busy to care about their child, so she wandered the lengths of life, lonely and sad. Her tide changed when she met Maria. The girl who was stranger than she was. The girl was supposed to be the heir to the German duchess but had a barely recognizable accent.
She wanted to mind her business as she had always done, but curiosity got the best of her. She drew close to the stranger and suddenly felt the need to protect her.
They had already been through so much together. At thirty, they could say they had taken every sacrifice for the world to become their playground. Still, such power wasn't enough. She would not feel fulfilled if she didn't help Maria get justice.
It was the strangest thing, but she could not stop herself from feeling like this was her destiny. A knock on the door drew her attention, and she turned to demand who it was.
"It's Zia Benedetta, princess"
"Oh, come in quickly," she said, ushering the older woman in. In such a short time, she had indeed grown to love her.
Not just for her kindness and sincerity of heart, but because she had loved her first. She wasn't used to receiving genuine love. It was either to gain favor or just an act, but Zia Benedetta made her feel like she finally had a mother. She was also the only person who liked being called a princess by cus when she does that, and it doesn't feel like a title. It felt like she meant the word literally.
"Good morning, my dear," Zia Benedetta said, handing her a cup of coffee.
"You're an angel Zia Benedetta," she replied, taking a sip from her coffee. Suddenly she stopped and turned to look at Zia Benedetta, worry written over her face.
"Zia Benedetta?" She called, concern laced in her voice.
"Yes, princess"
"Don't panic, okay."
"Sure, what's wrong?" Zia Benedetta asked, concerned about what made the princess look so distressed.
"You have so many strands of white hair sprouting out!" She said in shock, and Zia Benedetta burst into laughter. Ursula honestly cracked her up beyond words.
It was her genuine innocence at the ridiculousness of the things she considered serious that amused her. Such a sweet child, Zia Benedetta thought in earnest.
"My child, I'm getting old already. Of course, this was bound to happen," she explained.
"Still, you look very young in my eyes. Maybe it's the beautiful Italian genes, but we must do something about your hair," she said, drinking her coffee. She placed it down and paced around for a few minutes, then suddenly stopped.
"Wait, I know!" She exclaimed happily.
"Know what?" Zia Benedetta asked.
"We're going to go for a girl's day out tomorrow. Just you and I," she said happily.
"And Maria?"
"Well, she'll still be resting from the event she'll be attending tonight, and it wouldn't be right to disturb her, "Oh my God, speaking of Maria. I forgot what I planned to do today, Zia Benedetta," she screamed. Zia Benedetta couldn't keep up with the random outbursts. It was confusing but funny.
"Zia Benedetta, I need your help to properly executive this plan," she whispered conspiratorially.
"Okay, Princess, what do you need?" She asked, always willing to help.
"We need to get the perfect gown and glam for the event. I know if I ask her to come with me to a fashion house, she would turn it down. So what do we do?" She asked, hoping Zia Benedetta was following her.
The poor woman shook her head in confusion.
"We bring the fashion house to her!" She screamed as she had just solved the most challenging puzzle on earth.
"That's a wonderful idea, princess, but how do we go about it?"
"That's precisely why I need your help. I need a list of all the top fashion houses in Milan. Leave the negotiations to me. No one can turn down a German princess," she giggled, and Zia Benedetta joined her as they went over their plans.
Maria walked down the stairs with an apple in her hand. She had spent the whole day sorting out proposals from different organizations. Everyone wanted the touch of Maria's hands and attracted her sometimes. She wondered why the house was quiet as she walked down.
Thinking carefully, she had not seen Ursula today. She only saw Zia Benedetta when the kind woman came to her room to ask what she would like to eat.
"Have you seen Ursula?" She asked one of the kitchen maids she saw in the kitchen.
"No, ma'am," the girl answered. "That's strange," she muttered.
She heard a couple of cars drive-in, and the front door flew open. She rushed out to see what was going on only to meet Ursula and a couple of strangers bringing in different dresses.
"Careful with that" Ursula dished out orders as the dresses trooped in their numbers.
"What is going on here?" She asked, confused.
"We are your glam team today, and we're going to find you the perfect dress," she replied once, walking past me.
Maria racked her brain, searching for the possible reason Ursula turned her living room into a fashion house until it hit her.
Today was the event. Oh shit!
Maria ran into the house and grabbed Ursula with her to the bedroom.
"You forgot about it, didn't you," Ursula asked, clearly amused at her friend's plight. She suspected Maria had forgotten when she spent all day burying herself at work.
"Yeah. Thank God you remembered" she sighed, a bit relieved.
"Yes, I did. Just take a deep breath, relax and let's go sort out some clothes. When I'm done with you, you'll be the belle of the party."
"Okay," Maria surprisingly replied without any argument. Ursula Jubilated inside. Maria was being so agreeable.
Maybe it was God answering her prayers. They walked down the stairs and saw that the dressing team had displayed the different dresses that Maria would be testing. Maria was going to ask how Ursula had managed to pull it off but thought better. It was Ursula, after all.
It was time to try the dresses on, and Maria stepped into the space carved as a dressing room for her. The first dress she came out in was too tight. Maria could barely breathe in it.
The second one was too dull, and it didn't match her skin. They continued to try on dresses, but nothing was too good in Ursula's eyes.
"My feet hurt, Ursula," Maria said, refusing to try on more dresses. "Let's just pick from the one you think are slightly better," she complained.
"We will find the perfect dress. You need to endure for a bit. Now stand up and chest the discomfort like the champ you are."
"Fine," Maria murmured. Zia rubbed her hands, encouraging her. The search for the perfect dress continued.
Ursula would give up and settle for one of the dresses she categorized slightly greater than good when Maria stepped out in this red dress. Everyone gasped in amazement.
The dress was made for her body, from its high-cut neck to its backless cut that reached just above her perfectly rounded butt to the slits on one side. It was gorgeous. She raised her chin, knowing that this dress was the shit.
"You look amazing, Marie!" Ursula said, finally finding her voice.
"I think we've found THE dress," Zia said, tears in her eyes. Ursula ordered that the large mirror be opened for Maria to see herself.
It was, and Maria was taken aback for a moment. She hadn't realized how much she looked like her birth mother until now, but that wasn't the unique part. She may look like her mother, but on this dress, the confidence that radiated was directly from the duchess.
This dress reminded her of the woman the duchess wanted her to be, and tonight, she would be that woman.
"This is the dress," she declared, and they all cheered.
Cadeaux
-- Cadeau
reçu État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone