Chapter 29

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"There." Ceolwen helped me slip into the sleeves of my white undergown and then began to fasten up the rows of tiny mother-of-pearl buttons along the underside. "That will make the sleeves fit snugly and look really elegant."

I smoothed out one of the cuffs, designed to end in an embroidered point over my middle finger. My father's tent had started to heat up from the morning sun, but the silk lay smooth and cool against my skin.

Ceolwen paused for a moment. "Are you nervous?" she asked, her voice carefully neutral.

I shrugged. "A little."

Of course I was! After all, today was my wedding day. A big step to take, and which would determine the course of my whole life onward. From Princess of Dol Amroth to Queen of the Mark, from Imrahil's daughter to Éomer's wife, from maid to...

Ceolwen had finished with the buttons and went to pick up the dark green dress that would go on top. I lifted my arms and she helped me wriggle into it. We had to be careful, because my maid had already pinned up my hair. While Ceolwen tied up the laces at the back to make the bodice fit tightly, I shook out the rich skirts so they fell in a pool of shimmering emerald around me. The gown's neckline was bordered with a narrow ribbon of gold and plunged rather low.

"Are you sure this is right?" I asked, tugging at it.

With a chuckle Ceolwen chased my hands away. "Of course it's right! And I'm sure Éomer will appreciate the sight."

That made me blush furiously. Ceolwen shot a quick look up at my face and cleared her throat. "Your mother died when you were little, didn't she?"

"She died giving birth to me," I confirmed. What a strange question to ask.

"So you have no other female relatives, apart from your aunt?"

"Well, there is Aerin, Elphir's wife, though I have not seen her for over a year." Why this sudden interest in my family?

Ceolwen arranged the wide bell sleeves of the outer gown so they fell in graceful folds. "Did she ever talk to you about what happens between a man ... and a woman?"

Suddenly the tent felt stifling hot. Was this why the Rohirrim had the custom of having a married friend attend the bride on the morning of her wedding?

"Eh..." I stammered. "Well..."

"I thought as much," Ceolwen said. "Listen..."

"This isn't necessary," I interrupted her hastily. "I know all about it. My family breeds horses."

"Horses!" she exclaimed. "Really, Lothíriel, that is not at all the same!"

"I know that!"

It came out embarrassingly close to a squeak. Surely my cheeks were hot enough to fry eggs on them!

"I grew up with three brothers," I pointed out. "We used to go swimming together, so I know how they're...built."

If only Éomer would arrive and rescue me from my well-meaning friend! I took a step away and tried to act unconcerned. "Where are my boots?"

Ceolwen produced the elegant, dark green riding boots and helped me into them.

"You might know the mechanics," she said, "but there is more to making love than that. You give of yourself and receive in return - which can be very pleasurable."

This was not a conversation I wanted to have on my wedding day, but I found myself listening with a kind of helpless fascination.

"You've enjoyed Éomer's kisses, haven't you?" she asked.

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