The King’s Cursed Bride Sneak Peek: Chapter 92

“How can I help?”

Carissa’s newly appointed lady-in-waiting froze, her slender hands still holding a lock of Carissa’s hair, and stared at Elon with rounded eyes. “Your–Your Majesty?”

Elon strode towards Carissa, seated before the vanity. He rested his hands on her shoulders, left bare by the cut of her dress. “What can I do to help?”

His touch eased the tension from her tight muscles, and for the first time since she’d arrived at the palace, Carissa allowed herself to relax. Apparently, Elon hadn’t informed anyone he’d be returning with a bride, since he himself hadn’t been certain whether or not Carissa would come to him.

Once Elon had informed the servants, they’d flown into a flurry of preparations, altering ball gowns for her, bringing a vanity and additional wardrobe into Elon’s room, and beginning her never-ending beauty preparations—bathing her, massaging her with lotions, cinching her into a dress, drowning her in jewelry, and now arranging her hair. It’d felt luxurious for the first two hours.

The lady-in-waiting finally shook out of her stupor. “Help with… her hair?”

Elon nodded. “Of course.”

“Oh. Perhaps you could hold this piece of hair while I braid the rest?”

After Elon had done as asked, the woman began tugging the hair along Carissa’s hairline into a braid.

Carissa stiffened her jaw against a yawn and clenched her hands in her lap, resisting the urge to squirm in her seat. The cushion was as creamy as a cloud, but her legs aches with the need to stand or move. She shifted her legs beneath the thick layers of her gown, trying to alleviate the stiffness. The air was thick with the fragrance of the oils she’d been smeared in, the strength of it making her temples throb.

She glanced in the mirror—which was a work of art, by the way. It was so clear and smooth, it seemed like a portal into another world. She hadn’t seen her reflection since staying in the embassy in Zonah.

Her gaze caught on Elon. His preparations had taken an hour—at most. “I wish I were a man.”

The lady-in-waiting’s indignant gasp was drowned by Elon’s laughter.

He threaded his fingers through her hair, loosening the intricate braids of her updo, earning them another gasp from the lady-in-waiting. “If you were, then I couldn’t do this.”

He tilted her head back before his lips caressed hers. Someone squeaked and a door slammed shut, but the sounds seemed muffled, as if they stood in a thick forest. Warmth blossomed within her chest, and she parted her lips. Elon obligingly deepened the kiss.

By the time Elon drew away, she decided it best she remain a woman.

Elon seated himself on the edge of the vanity. “We’ve frightened your lady-in-waiting away, it seems.”

Carissa turned. The woman was nowhere to be seen. “What about the rest of the preparations?” She glanced in the mirror and grimaced. “My hair.” She shot Elon a glare, but he merely grinned.

“I didn’t hear you complaining a few seconds ago.”

She huffed, even as her face grew hot.

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