Free WingsOfDesire-AriannaSkye by Arianna Skye Page B

want a brown gown?” She giggled, apparently noticing her silly rhyme.
    “Fine. Lavender then.”
    “A wonderful choice, Your Highness.” Onora shook the pink gossamer, transforming it to a light purple. “Here you are. Is this more acceptable?” With a slight huff, Rhiannon grabbed the gown. “A little privacy please?”
    “I’m supposed to dress you, Your Highness.”
    Goodness gracious , would she ever get any privacy? “I’m a big girl, Onora. I can dress myself.”
    Onora sighed and her lip quivered. “I...I...I’m sorry, Your Highness.” The poor maid looked like she was about to cry. She seemed so young—barely eighteen, if Rhiannon guessed right. “If it’s so important for you to dress me, I won’t stop you.” She gave Onora a comforting smile.
    “Oh thank you, Your Highness.” Onora fluffed the gown. “I can’t believe Titania chose me to be your faerie-in-waiting. I’m very nervous.” She bit her lip.
    “Don’t be nervous, Onora. I’m just plain ole Rhiannon, just as normal as you.” She contained the snigger that threatened to tumble from her mouth. Normal? There’s nothing normal about this place.
    A big grin stretched across the petite faerie’s face. “Thank you, my princess. I’m looking forward to serving you.” She looked at the gown. “We better get you dressed for your prince-to-be.”
    Rhiannon nodded and raised her arms, allowing Onora to dress her. If she thought the

    nightgown was light, she now felt like she was floating on air. The lavender gauze flowed about her body. Gold sparkled magically about her. “Wow, it’s beautiful!” Rhiannon exclaimed, with the glee of a high school girl who had just found the perfect prom dress.
    “Not as much as the one who wears it.” Onora motioned to the golden dresser and mirror.
    Rhiannon was certain the wealth in this room alone would put even the richest of sultans to shame. “It’s now time for me to dress your hair.”
    Rhiannon fluffed her shoulder-length curls. “Not much to dress here, I’m afraid.”
    “I’ll manage. I’ve had to work with pixies before.” Onora giggled. “Why on Fey would a woman want to wear her hair so short is beyond me.” Rhiannon refused to comment. She, herself, had just made an appointment to get her hair chopped a few hours before her imagination went on overdrive. “Lots of women on Earth wear their hair short. It can be very stylish.”
    “Not for us faeries, I’m afraid.” Onora wound a few flowers and glittery ribbons through Rhiannon’s hair. “Yes, your hair may be shorter than a typical faerie, but it becomes you.” She turned Rhiannon toward the looking glass. “There, all finished.” Rhiannon gasped. The gauzy lavender sparkled and danced about her. A radiance she never realized she possessed floated with her every mood. Beautiful lavender flowers and glittering ribbons bedecked her lush auburn curls. Her eyes seemed to sparkle a rich emerald green. “Holy shit! I’m gorgeous.” Rhiannon blushed, realizing just how arrogant she sounded.
    “You’re only just noticing this?” Maeve stood in the doorway, her smile warm. She bowed.
    “Your consort grows impatient.”
    Rhiannon raised a curious brow. “What exactly is a consort? It sounds rather perverted.” Maeve chuckled. “Your consort...what you humans call a husband or spouse.”
    “Oh, okay.” She wasn’t marrying some crazy imaginary being, even if he did give her explosive orgasms. “I don’t want to get married, and I certainly don’t want to live the rest of my days in la-la land.”
    Maeve sighed and turned to Onora. “Could you inform Lord Silverwing we’ll be right out?” Onora bowed and took her leave.
    Maeve turned back to Rhiannon, her expression serious. “I understand this is all so sudden for you, Your Highness, but the White Faerie Folk—your people—need you. Just grant us this one boon and you shall have whatever you want.”

    “What if I want to go back to Earth and get my