[maikafanawen]

The sun hit the windows of Dryea’s room early and fast like a sudden bolt of lightening. She sat up blinking the red spots out of her eyes and slid off the bed into her slippers. Ränne had not yet come to wake her and after stumbling over to the windowsill, where she could peek down into the garden at the sundial, saw that it was only half an hour past dawn.

The maids had been up for exactly an hour and breakfast was already set on her small table ready for her enjoyment. Dryea had always insisted on eating breakfast first thing in the morning. It was her source of energy and she joked that it was direly needed for fitting in her corset because once the food was digested, the undergarment would loosen. She helped herself to three apple tarts and two cups of the honeyed tea she fancied. Flipping idly through her book she spent less than usual on her breakfast and was ready to prepare for the day in just over ten minutes of waking.

Her feet weren’t sore like they usually were after a night full of dancing but she rubbed jasmine oil on them all the same after bathing and before getting dressed.

This morning she chose a silk goldenrod dress with simple sleeves and inch-wide lace that crisscrossed up the bodice. Ränne arrived just in time to help tie up the back of her corset before donning her dress.

“I am sorry your mother doesn’t approve of Rhir m’lady,” she said, concentrating on the stays. Dryea smiled. Good old Ränne. “If there’s something I can do,” she stepped back motioning to Dryea to turn and attempt to sit in her corset. “How does it hold?”

“It’s fine. My dress too please.” Lady Morthaniawen stood still as Ränne carefully tied the bow in the back of the dress finishing up the lacing that held the dress together.

“This is a dazzling dress, Dryea. New?” Dryea nodded, smiling brilliantly into the mirror. It was a nice dress. It molded nicely onto her figure and wasn’t too fancy: just the modern style.

“Thank you very much Ränne but I don’t think mother will soften.” Shrugging, the maid left the room and moved on to Alethea’s to wake her.

Dryea finished with a small splash of sandalwood-rose perfume and added some simple jewelry: a gold ring in the shape of a rose and a thin necklace to match. Then, slipping into her brown house shoes she left her room.

It was a day to mirror her dress: stunning and cheerful. She knew that she didn’t have much of a reason to feel so uplifted but she couldn’t push the beam from her face. Two troublesome things had occurred: her mother didn’t approved of Rhir for political reasons, and Finduilas was going to prove a threat to their plans. With these two things weighing slightly on her mind she ran into Elena who was on her way to breakfast.

“Won’t you join me?” she asked Dryea. Lady Morthaniawen agreed.

“I could do with something light I suppose.” Deciding to take their morning meal onto the back terrace, they sat in the early morning light and chattered of the previous night’s happenings.

[ July 15, 2003: Message edited by: maikafanawen ]