“Will I be wearing the Imari Rubies?”
“No, your Highness.”
Nala stared into the mirror and fought the urge to chew on her lip. As Princess of the Pridelands and future Queen, Nala had been gifted numerous crowns in her lifetime. The Poseidon tiara, a magnificent display of Atlantican pearls and Olympian aquamarine. The Christmas tiara, shimmering red and green flowers from a holiday spent in Camelot. The Shining Sun diadem as a birthday gift from Kuzco, the Snowflake tiara from Arendelle. There was the Anastasia tiara, named after the lost princess, a stunning diamond crown in the style of St. Petersburg. Nala wore it to commemorate the lost princess’s birthday, a promise to return it when Anastasia is found. And of course several others for daily royal duties, kept in a chamber near her mother’s quarters.
Her favorite was the Imari crown, the silver lion of her family’s crest and stunning rubies found in mines deep in the forest. She would feel comfortable in it, like herself maybe. Like this was another ball. Like she hadn’t just fought for her life two weeks before. Finding out that there was another change disappointed her, and she stayed silent as her attendants pulled and curled her hair, applied makeup to her eyes.
The door creaked open and a man walked in, wearing the uniform of a butler to the Imari family. He placed a box on the counter and with careful, gloved hands lifted it open. Nala’s jaw dropped.
The older she got, the fewer choices she was given. For an event like this the gowns were picked weeks in advance, hair and makeup decided by experts. She had to be regal, but young, but not silly, radiant but not showy. Nala had been resigned to being dressed up like a doll for this event (more important than any event she’d done yet) but she hadn’t anticipated this. The tiara in the box sparkled gold with diamonds in delicate swirls. In the center was a lioness, beautiful and defiant. It was the tiara Sarabi had worn when she’d married Mufasa.
The tears began before Nala had a chance to notice them, to try and stop them. Her shoulders began to tremble and she sniffed, shuddering with each breath. One of her ladies in waiting, a girl from Olympus, draped her arms around her.
“Your Highness, it’s so beautiful isn’t it! How generous of the Queen. Oh don’t cry––don’t cry, I know you want to marry Simba but I’m sure the King will grant you permission soon. Let’s try it on, see? I know, I’d be at a loss for words too. Let’s fix your makeup, we’ll need to go soon.”
Half an hour later, she stood at the top of a grand staircase. Two guards trailed behind, an assistant held her cell phone and her clutch. She began to walk down but Zazu clutched her arm.
“Not yet, Nala. You should present yourself with Simba.”
