Celia had been escorted back to the bridal chamber after the wedding feast. Once there, her maids had tugged off her coronet, veil and cumbersome dress. A far thinner gown, more like a chemise, and matching robe were tugged onto her body.
The dress and robe were made from a pale diaphanous gauze, clinging to her skin. Celia felt her face turn beet red and she wrapped the robe around her as tightly as she could.
The eldest of her maids dabbed jasmine oil in Celia's hair and on her throat. "You're very pretty, Your Highness. I'm sure you'll arouse the prince's passion the moment he sees you."
The other maids giggled at the bawdy talk.
Celia clenched her jaw, fearing her nerves might make her sick to her stomach. How was she even expected to find her way to Tobin's apartments when she'd never been there before? She wasn't going to have to roam the palace looking for it, while only wearing such flimsy robes, was she?
Was she?