South of SomeWhere (-Editing-)

|Say Yes...to a Dress|

It's an hour before the ball, and Faelion wants to have one last dress fitting. I haven't seen the finished product yet even though the material has been draped across my body at least a thousand times. With the elegance of a real queen, Faelion sweeps into the room bearing the dress carefully wrapped in blue paper. This is the moment that I half have been waiting for and dreading. Can I look like a queen? The idea that the past week had been all a dream never occurred to me. This is real. I didn't need a records book with my name written in gold lettering to tell me that. I knew deep down in my heart, and the real issue was would I look the part.

I stand up from my window seat where I had been watching the procession of carriages file into the courtyard. It's only seven, and the sky is pitch black. Lantern light bounces around the enclosed space reflecting of the shiny trappings and water fountain that dominates the center of the yard. Some of the light is flung up through the window of my chambers and lights certain dark corners like spotlights. Faelion closes the curtains. "Now is time to get you ready," she says resting her hands on her hips.

I sit at my dressing table and the fun begins. A pluck here, and wipe, a dab. Makeup is done in record time mostly since I was thoroughly scrubbed when I arrived. Next is my hair. We quibble a bit about this part of my outfit. I want my hair in a ponytail. I can't stand to have either my hair hanging like a mane making my neck hot and forever getting in my face. Faelion argues a ponytail is alright for normal daily wear, but for a social function, it just won't do.

"Braid it then!" I shriek.

"Are you nervous?" Faelion asks as she weaves my hair together tightly.

"Terrified," I answer truthfully. At least I can talk to someone.

"So was I at intro dance. My mother, the gods rest her soul," she pauses in her work to kiss the pointer and middle finger of her right hand and extend them to the ceiling, "decided to invite the whole fay council. Unfortunately, they all decided to show up," she finishes making a grimace.

"What happened?"

"I stepped on the head magister's foot, and he fell into Lady Rochester. The rest is history."

I can't suppress my loud burst of laughter.

"No literally," she says urgently. "My people still talk about it and it happened years ago. I think I'm the poster child for, "DON'T DO THIS AT YOUR INTRO BALL!"

My laugh grows louder and after a minute she joins in.

"It was quite ridiculous in the moment," she giggles wiping her eyes, and securing my braids with an elastic.

"I bet."

Since there is silence, I decide to ask about my wayward frie...erhm...demon.

"How's Avexx doing?"

Her hands still for a second before she continues adjusting a loose curl. "Fine."

"You two have an argument?" In the mirror, I see her reflection's brows scrunch together.

"You could call it that," she hedges.

"Faelion! Tell me what happened!"

Instead of answering, she ignores me completely. "Now for the dress." She says, carrying on as though nothing has happened. She opens the trunk that resides at the end of my bed and opens it pulling out a black corset.

"You can't be serious right? Just fitting for that thing hurt!"

"Corsets aren't so bad once you get used to them." I roll my eyes. I stand still while she slides it over my head. After a minute or so of straining, I can't breathe, but it's laced snuggly, and my bosom is pushed a little higher than I care for.