Before Jasper and his fiancée arrived, I was an absolute mess. I was pacing about, constantly adjusting the belt on my split sleeve blouse or fidgeting with my pearl necklace. The champagne was warming on the counter as it was not to be at fridge temperate, the macarons were out, the caviar I had bought on a whim was sitting beside an assortment of crackers on the island and my entire apartment was spotless. I should have been calm, everything was taken care of, but part of me knew that I was not in for an easy night.

When the knock finally came, I was equally relieved and distraught. It was finally happening which meant it was going to be over sooner, but dear god it was happening.

"Jasper," I greeted, my arms open at my sides.

My cousin was a beast of a man to put it very simply. Over six feet table with shoulders wide enough to block his fiancée from my view entirely, he was not a force to be reckoned with. When his moody brown eyes swept over me once, I had to repress the urge to cower backwards, not that he cared, plowing into the room anyway. The disapproval seemed to be etched into my features but I reminded myself that we were family and everything would be fine.

Everything had to be fine.

But I realized my first blunder was the outfit I had painstakingly picked out. I was refined and sophisticated. I had wanted to be perfection meeting a queen. But that queen had just come off a flight and though she might have been gorgeous boarding the private plane, she certainly wasn't kempt now. Blonde hair piled into a high bun, sheer gloss on her lips, and heavy bags under her eyes, she seemed almost insulted by my choice. The sweatpants she was wearing were at least three sizes too big. Did that mean that they were Jasper's? No, that was far too domestic for him.

"We haven't met," I hinted softly, reaching my hand towards her.

"Zara," she murmured, her voice low and slightly raspy. It reminded me of Hollywood movie stars. Her hand was cold in mine, but her grip was firm.

"London. Please, come in. Jasper told me some of your favorites so you can relax for a while."

The smile she tossed me gave me enough hope to believe that she might be the friendly one of the two, she was probably just exhausted.

I gestured for her to move into my apartment and let my eyes trail over the luggage that she dragged behind her. Seemed like an odd amount to bring for an afternoon visit, but I was mostly hung up on the fact that the designer product probably cost as much as my tuition for a year.

I made a grand display of the champagne and the caviar, hoping it would distract from my dark lipstick and perfect eyeliner. How was I supposed to know that she would show up in sweats?

"Like I said, all your favorites," I stated with a bright grin.

Zara's blue eyes flashed over the display and I wondered if I had laid it on too thick. Yes, she was a queen, but it was as if she almost wanted to be treated like family. Unfortunately for her, we had very little to go off if that was the case. I saw my cousins about twice a year and most meetings were cold and more formal than a court case. This was as close and cuddly as we ever got.

"I also see that you have a cat," Jasper said coldly. Only he could be mad about a little pet.

"Oh, yes!" A perfect distraction regardless. Inkwell was always a favorite with his tragic backstory and constant purrs. I rushed over to the cat tower, knowing he wouldn't mind being paraded around like a show pony.

"Zara is allergic."

I froze. Bastard. He didn't tell me that. And he purposely didn't tell me that. He had filled my head with useless information to see if I could be bothered to drudge up the important stuff myself. Why hadn't I thought of checking a tabloid? I'm sure there were countless articles on every single one of her ailments.

"I brought antihistamines," Zara chimed in. "Please don't stress."

"She should know," Jasper pointed out, dark eyes locked on me. "It's her job to know."

My mouth dropped open to accuse him of a thousand things. I felt like he was being excessive. He had already invited himself and a literal monarch into my house. How was I supposed to deal with more? But when my attention focused in on him, I saw the was his nose curved slightly and the scar dragging downward from his lower lip.

He might have been a walking nightmare, but that man had faced more demons than I could ever imagine. I could still so easily recall reading his file, legs curled to my chest with tears rolling down my cheeks. The anger died.

But Zara was just getting fired up. With narrowed eyes, she placed her hands on her hips and I saw the queen in her. Young, but strong, small, but stern. "Your job right now is to call our son."

Jasper said nothing to me, freezing me out with one last icy stare before he pulled out a sleek phone from his pocket and dialed a number. Without bothering to ask permission, he sauntered down the hallway and dipped right into my office, shutting the door as if it were always intended to be his own private space. His voice was cheerful and light when it reached my ears through the thin walls, but I couldn't make out the words.

And I was left alone with a woman I didn't know who was having an allergic reaction to Inkwell.

While I was all fidgeting and fumbling, desperate for a topic, Zara casually nodded her head towards my coffee table. "You study fashion?" she asked.

A long-forgotten textbook was growing dusty there. I had loved the course so much I had wanted it to carry on forever, and having the book there was a nice reminder that sometimes college didn't suck. Still, I shrugged nonchalantly. "I did a few courses."

"Do you mind if I have a look? I've been struggling to get ideas for my wedding dress. All these people are so eager to please, but when you go to forty different shops, they all start to look the same, you know?"

I blinked slowly. "Isn't your wedding in less than two months?"

She set herself down with a huff, almost crumpling into my couch. "You're telling me."

I was mostly silent as Zara flipped through my textbook. The majority of it was like any other college book. Tons of jargon that would never be used in real life, terrible illustrations, and names of people I would never meet that were often already irrelevant. The queen just flipped through pages, sighing at all the pictures she saw and I was about to tell her that she wasn't going to find what she was looking for when she gasped.

"This is what I want," she announced, spinning the book towards me.

The first problem was that it was black. I didn't know much about being a queen, but I figured that wouldn't fly. The other problem was that the gown was a complete and utter mess. In an artistic sense, of course. It was a masterpiece. But it was not something people wanted to see, but rather something that people would crane their necks and stare at then whisper about later.

The page was gone as she jerked the book back to her, "But also want this."

And it was the complete opposite. The blandest dress I had ever seen. Not a single visible stitch or a lick of lace on the simple sheath form fitting dress.

"This is the problem. I want to look like a queen should. I want to thunder into that church and have people stare at me and know that I rule over the country, but act as if I rule the whole world." Then a dreamy sigh, she tipped her head back. "But when I think about marrying Jasper, I think of simple. It doesn't have to be more complicated than the two of us. I don't want to look like a queen beside him. I just want to be with him." As if she came to herself, she blinked and straightened. "Sorry, the flight took a lot out of me and the wedding seems to be racing towards us. It feels like it's all I ever think about now."

I could have cared less about the apology. My mind was already racing with ideas. How to blend the simplest and the most extravagant? It seemed like an impossible challenge. I snatched the book back, flicking through the glossy pages until I saw a costume I had stared at a thousand times, breaking down each of the elements.

"What about this?"

"Is this from that movie?"

"Yes."

"This is what the villain wore."

I nodded eagerly. "Yes, exactly."

"I don't want to be seen that way. And what is this part?" her fingers tapped at the page. "I don't want this corset thing."

Unable to verbalize what I wanted, what I saw, I scrambled for a piece of paper and pen. For a moment, there was no sounds aside from Jasper's low voice rumbling away and the frantic scratches of my pen. Before I could doubt myself, I revealed my vision to Zara. "A sweetheart neckline sheath dress, as simple and as clean as can be. You'll look every inch a traditional bride. But when you want to draw eyes to you, the cape. I think the lace like this almost looks like the breast plate of armor, high close to the neck, but open on your chest to show off the neckline of the dress. If you do a gauzy material for the rest of the cape, it will float behind you when you walk which would compensate for not having a train on the dress itself and it could be detached for dancing."

Zara was quiet for a long time. Too long. I began fearing that I overstepped. Was there something against offering advice? Had I totally misread her? Was she going to tear my design apart?

"Would this clash with a veil?" she said eventually.

"Who needs a veil when you have a crown?" I countered.

The corner of her mouth turned up and I decided that I would be thankful that I could impress one of them.

~~~Distraction Section~~~

Hello all! I wanted to give you guys a lil update to keep you sated as I push through publishing. Follow my insta for updates (sidsbookcollection)

Question of the Day: What must you achieve before you die?