His Queen

23.

A countless, heavenly array of colours were held purely accountable for my wondrous awe. Everything seemed unreal.

Surreal.

From a bold crimson to a lavish gold, every piece held it's own primal beauty. For here I stood in the large chamber of the royal seamstress, every possible colour and texture and design, everything are here. Now I would not wonder how Harry's lavish clothing came to life with such grandeur. It has been a week since the meeting between Harry and the royalties of Valenzcgiea and countless preparations are done. Including what I am required to do now; to get my measurements taken by the royal seamstress and to discuss on what I wish to wear for the grand ball. Tedious it seemed; yet it was all too exciting for me.

"Greetings my lady. I am Frances, your Royal Seamstress and I am deeply honored to serve you."

All thoughts are halted upon hearing this and my eyes laid on a woman with such fine face and she seems to be in her older years. Fine wrinkles starting to creep upon the ends of her eyes and I could not help but feel such warmth from her. "Greetings as well, Frances. It is such a lovely day is it not?"

She nods her head in a gentle agreement, a smile flitting up her face. "Indeed it is, my lady. The King has ordered for me to make you a dress for the grand ball to your liking. To aid me with this procedure, Adelaide and Rose are here." Two young maiden bowed at this and I smiled at them with joy and excitement.

"My lady, shall we begin?" She asks with her head nodding to accentuate her words. I grasped my dress in hand, nodding my head excitedly. We venture further into the large room and I was asked to step on a circular podium which I did. Frances took measurements of my body, whilst Adelaide and Rose wrote them on a piece of paper with a quill. After the measurements were taken, my heart could not help but pound loudly in excitement and euphoria.

How did this ever happen?

Was I not a servant just yesterday?
How ever did this come to happen, now that I found myself being measured for a dress made for me?

How?
How?

As we sat upon the room's plush chairs, a plate of biscuits and a pot of tea are brought to us. "My lady I believe it is now time for us speak of what you want for your dress." Frances speaks, quilts and ink in hand. I take a sip of the soothing tea before placing it on the small table once more. But then a question struck to me ever so fast; what do I want?

A sudden flash of want.
A sudden flash of dream.

My dream.
I want that, indeed.

Yet it was too much.
Too much to ask of my king for I wish not to take advantage of my sudden privileges.

"Something simple."

No.

"I wish for it to be in the colour of blue." I say, twiddling my thumbs in an effort to calm the raging storm in my mind. For I know not what to do. Harry has done massive changes to my life that I never would have thought possible and I wish not to take advantage of it;

no matter what dreams of mine would be strained.

Frances immediately perks upon my response. "My lady, we have different shades of blue; which do you prefer?" She asks as Adelaide deftly scurried around the chamber and returns to hand me a stack of papers with scraps of fabrics of the shade of blue sewed upon it.