There is a special passion in the castle and the surrounding city. Corner to corner of the city is covered with festive decorations. Wherever you go the voice of cheer and joy of people is heard. Great and fancy fabrics hang from the beginning to the end of the castle walls. Every single guardian at each door and bridge is restored with new armor, shiny and clean like well framed mirror. Point to point of the castle is cleaned up with great care and patience to be ready for guests, because the maids know that the princess is too susceptible to harmony and cleanliness. And so her servants are carefully selected. The best of the best who likely never make a mistake. Even though they are great handicraft artists, yet their hands shake when they appear near the princess. Minds are full of her fuss, hearts are hurt with her words, and eyes are sorry to see her. Nevertheless, even knowing this, she does not give up on her self-obsession. Something that is driven from her stunning beauty. Be from wealth or extraordinary health, she holds such beauty that people canít stop talking about. Skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood, hair colored ivory, and eyes as bright as the moon. But moral so ugly that nobody wants to know. Seamstresses are hurrying to the princess's room. Keeping the princess waiting is a death wish. They arrive as the princess is tearing her old dress off of herself in a savage way. She pulls the parts like she is beating dirt off herself and in the middle of it asks for a scissors from her servants. "If my lady allows me, I will free her from the efforts of removing her dress." Says one of her servants. "Shut up! You call this a dress? I donít even remember the goods of wearing such a rag. Cut the hands of its tailors." Says the princess and sends a quake to every seamstress in that room. All of them live with this fear that the next dress they make for the princess might be their last. "Forgive me, my lady. It was a gift from your cousin. We donít know the tailors. How do we punish people we donít even know?" The servant answers and dare not look up. The princess gives her a withering look. "Of course, you knob-head. Where did you get your quick wit from? Do you want to lose your bloody tongue?" The princess asks with a cloudy frown on her face. "No, my lady. Forgive me, my lady." The poor girl humbly apologizes from the aggressive princess, and sure she gets to keep her tongue for now. "Send a letter to my cousin and give him my greatest ingratitudes!" The princess demands and continues to the seamstresses. "You, stop staring at me like idiots. Get started." They get shaken up with her order. Just seven people are carrying the parts to the special dress the princess is supposed to wear for her wedding. Itís hard to maintain tranquility in front of her. They know what means to make a mistake to her grace. "Wait, is this made as I ordered it?" The princess asks. "Yes yes, your highness. Cheap fabric soon frays. Our materials were pure silk and satin, greatest jewels and brightest of fiber. It is sewed to your beautiful elegance. No other princess shall ever wear like this." Says the elder seamstress. "Stop blathering and get on with your job." The princess rolls her eyes and tells the older woman. "As you wish, your highness." She says, then signals her assistants to begin with dressing. Just like the great tailor said, every part of the dress is made of pure silk and attached with glassy jewels, blinding to the eye. They have definitely made it their best one. When they are done, two other servants bring the mirror. The princess turns to watch herself in it. Seamstresses also watch. Their eyes focus and their limbs freeze up. All wait for the princess's opinion. She takes time to look at every bit of her dress, every sparkle of pearl and diamond on it, every wrinkle in the silk that shines brighter than the valleys made over it. She slightly swings to left and swings to right. As the people around her bite their lips, a small smile appears in the corner of her mouth. "This one is my favorite." Says the princess. Imprisoned breaths in chests get freed and hearts begin to beat again. "Lovely work my maids. Well done." Barely happens that the princess give compliments. That might be the only reward they get for their efforts but it worths a chest full of gems. At least they can have their hands. Suddenly a valet walks in and makes apologize. "Your highness, her grace wants to see you."
The gates cast open for the princess. She walks in as the extended part of her precious dress is carefully held by three maids. "Mother, how do you like my dress? Tailors have done an excellent job this time, donít you agree?" She walks in and says with a lot of passion. She comes down to her. There's a frustration in her mother's face that is in battle with her joy. Thereís a letter in her hands. It is speaking of inconvenience according to the gestures over the queen's look. She lifts her dress and comes up the stairs. "Is everything all right mother?" She asks as her passion slowly turns to doubts. "Iím sorry, my child." Says the queen mother. She lets her eyes tell the rest. "What is that? What does that letter contain?" She asks. Her smile extinguishes. Her eyebrows weigh down into her face. She just takes the letter from her mother harshly. The first words to it bring tears to her eyes. Her hands shake and her forehead fill with wrinkles. She crumples up the letter, squeezes it with her fingers in such hatred and rage. Anything that is in that letter becomes fuel for her wrath to grow. Too much that may burn the castle and burn the kingdom.