The Fae King's Chosen

Chapter 8 - The Perfect Fit

The palace was buzzing with activity, and Alessia could feel the weight of the upcoming ball pressing down on her like a cloak she hadn’t chosen to wear. It wasn’t just the thought of meeting potential suitors—it was the knowledge that the entire fae realm seemed to be watching her, waiting for her to make some monumental choice that she wasn’t even sure she could make.

As she walked through the corridors with Caelorn, the tension in the air was palpable. The servants moved quickly, carrying armfuls of flowers, tapestries, and what looked like enchanted lanterns that floated just above their hands. Alessia couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by it all.

"You’ll be fine," Caelorn said, breaking the silence as they made their way to yet another part of the palace she had yet to explore.

Alessia gave him a half-hearted smile. "That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one being paraded in front of an entire realm."

Caelorn chuckled, but there was sympathy in his eyes. "True, but remember, no one is forcing your hand. You’re in control of this, Alessia. The ball is just a way for you to meet others—and for them to meet you."

She sighed, her mind still spinning with the enormity of it all. "I know. It just feels... strange. Like I’m on display."

"You’re not on display," Caelorn assured her. "You’re being given a chance to see what this world has to offer. Nothing more."

Before Alessia could respond, they arrived at a set of grand double doors. Caelorn pushed them open, revealing a large room filled with racks of shimmering fabrics, jewels, and all manner of elaborate garments. At the far end of the room stood several fae, all dressed in flowing robes that gleamed with the same ethereal glow as the palace itself.

Alessia blinked, taken aback by the sight. "What is this place?"

"The palace atelier," Caelorn said, a grin tugging at his lips. "You’ll need something to wear for the ball, and the tailors have been... eager to get started."

The head tailor, Faelor, wasted no time in rushing over. “Lady Alessia, finally! We’ve been awaiting your arrival with bated breath. This is the moment we’ve dreamed of for centuries!” His silver eyes sparkled with an intensity that made Alessia both nervous and amused.

Several of the other tailors quickly gathered around, each holding something more outrageous than the last—one with what looked like a gown that glowed in the dark, another with a headdress that could rival a tower. They looked at her as if she were a canvas waiting to be turned into the greatest masterpiece ever created.

“We need something monumental!” Faelor declared, eyes wide with excitement. “Something that will take their breath away!”

“We could do a gown made entirely of light, like the shifting colors of dawn!” one of the younger tailors suggested, holding up a sketch of swirling, ethereal hues.

“No, no,” another fae interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “That’s far too subtle. What about something with wings? And perhaps... something that changes shape with every movement!”

Alessia raised an eyebrow. “Wings?”

“Absolutely! You must be a vision of fae power and grace. Wings that shimmer in the moonlight, a gown that glows... oh, and a headdress,” Faelor added, snapping his fingers. “It should be tall, grand! Something so magnificent they can barely comprehend it.”

Alessia stared at the sketch one of the tailors had thrust toward her. The headdress was nearly as tall as she was. “I don’t think I could even walk in that.”

“That’s the point, my lady!” another tailor chirped, his eyes bright with excitement. “You don’t need to walk. You’ll float! Glide through the room like a living sculpture, barely touching the ground!”

Alessia stifled a laugh. "I think I’d prefer to be able to move, thank you."

The tailors exchanged glances, clearly struggling to comprehend the concept of modesty. They began furiously discussing amongst themselves, presenting more and more absurd designs. One held up a shimmering gown that seemed to pulse with a life of its own, while another unveiled a set of floating orbs that would apparently follow her around, casting rainbow light in all directions.

"Do you have anything... simpler?" Alessia ventured, trying to rein in the escalating madness.

The tailors froze, staring at her as if she’d just suggested she attend the ball in a potato sack.

“Simple?” Faelor asked, aghast. “But, my lady, you are the first woman to grace this realm in centuries! You must shine brighter than the stars themselves!”

“I don’t need to shine,” Alessia replied firmly. “I just need to feel comfortable.”

The tailors exchanged scandalized glances, clearly struggling with the idea of prioritizing comfort over spectacle. Finally, Faelor sighed dramatically, clearly deflating. “Very well, we shall... compromise.”

He clapped his hands, and the others set to work, draping various fabrics around her as they muttered and debated. It was clear they weren’t happy about abandoning their more outrageous ideas, but they still wanted to create something that would showcase their skills.

As they worked, Alessia began to appreciate the beauty of the fabrics they were using—soft silks, shimmering with iridescent hues, and delicate veils that felt as light as air. One by one, they pinned different pieces in place, draping the fabric over her in a way that felt both elegant and otherworldly.

As the tailors finished their work, Alessia stepped back to take in the final creation. The gown they had crafted was unlike anything she had ever seen. Layers of delicate, shimmering fabric wrapped around her body in a way that felt both graceful and otherworldly. Soft, translucent veils draped from her shoulders, flowing over her arms and down her back, shifting with every movement she made.

The fabric clung to her in all the right places, but it wasn’t tight or restrictive. Instead, the layers seemed to float around her, held together by some unseen magic. The gown was intricately woven with hints of deep sapphire and amethyst, the colors blending seamlessly and rippling like water. It left her midriff and legs partially visible through the veils, revealing just enough to catch the eye without feeling exposed.

Each step she took made the fabric shimmer, the veils swirling like mist in the wind. The dress seemed to move with a life of its own, making her feel as if she were walking on air. Despite its elegance, it was comfortable, allowing her the freedom to move while still looking like something out of a dream.

The design was unlike anything Alessia had ever worn—ethereal, mysterious, and undeniably fae.

One of the tailors, his face a mixture of pride and exasperation, stepped back to admire their work. “It’s not as grand as I’d hoped,” he muttered. “But it does have a certain... allure.”

Alessia smiled as she turned to the mirror, taking in the final result. It was unlike anything she had ever worn before—elegant, revealing just enough to make a statement, but still comfortable. The tailors had managed to compromise, crafting something that blended their desire for spectacle with her need for practicality.

“I have to admit,” she said softly, “it’s beautiful.”

Faelor, still looking somewhat defeated, managed a gracious nod. “It’s... acceptable,” he said, though his eyes gleamed with pride.

Caelorn, who had been watching from the sidelines with barely concealed amusement, stepped forward. “I’d say it’s more than acceptable. You’ll be the envy of the realm.”

Alessia couldn’t help but laugh. The absurdity of the entire situation—the over-the-top suggestions, the grandiose visions of what she was supposed to look like—seemed surreal. She had grown up reading stories about otherworldly beings, and now here she was, in the middle of one of those stories. Only now, she was the one being treated as if she were the mythical creature.

With a deep breath, she turned back to the mirror, feeling a strange sense of calm. The ball was just around the corner, and with this dress, at least she would feel like herself—even if she was in a world that didn’t quite know what to make of her.