Gamil was angry with the lordlings when they left for Paelstead the next morning, and Taelroy guiltily had refused to bring up the incident – having not even realized that his friends had been captured. Gaillard was upset about that, but Xal blamed himself for not expecting the rogues to anticipate his plan.
The child had been the constable’s daughter, kidnapped and kept for blackmail to keep the law from shutting down the gambling den. The entire gang of thugs had been forced to flee the town or risk the lawman’s justice.
The party rode for three days, angry and guilty, talking only as necessary to coordinate meals, camp, and travel. Camp had been surprising, as Taelroy and Rosie had taken to only setting up one tent for both of them.
As they arrived at Paelstead, Xalvador took the lead – to the dismay of Gaillard, who expected another trap.
“My family has estates here in Paelstead.” Xalvador volunteered, “We can rest there in luxury until we are ready to proceed into Wilderland.”
“I am NOT going into Wilderland.” Gaillard snapped, “This quest is a fool’s errand, and thou art a fool Taelroy for bringing us out here!”
“Thou art angry Gaillard…” Taelroy replied, “I’m sorry for not coming for thee, I…”
“Thou wast distracted,” Gaillard said, “We know.”
The conversation was more than they had exchanged in days and Taelroy felt that, despite Gail’s anger, it was productive to have the group talking again.
The rough wagon, escorted by three men on tall warhorses, rode through a city vibrant with wealth directly to a gathering crowd of carriages and armsmen.
“Xalvador…” Gaillard growled angrily, “What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure…” Xalvador admitted, “It appears my family may be hosting a party…”
Xalvador lead them around the estates, entering the stable grounds through the rear entrance. Servants were slow in coming to assist them, not expecting guests to arrive in the back of the estates.
“Master Xalvador!?” the lead servant said as they recognized the young lord, “Thine arrival is… unexpected!”
“What is going on here tonight?” Xal asked, barely acknowledging the servant’s comment.
“A celebration of Lady Jasnafih’s birthday. She’s come of age, and thine father is introducing her to society.”
“Perfect!” Xal exclaimed, “See my companions to my rooms so that they may wash and dress. Lady Rosie will need guest chambers and a new dress.”
“As you command, my Lord.” The servant said, still nervous, “Thine father… will want to know… of thine arrival, my Lord…”
“Then tell him!” Xalvador replied, “I’m eager to see him.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
Two servants escorted Rosie to a guest chamber while Taelroy and the others were escorted to Xalvador’s rooms.
Bathing was luxurious.
Rosie had bathed at inns throughout their journey, but she had never truly bathed as a Lady of the court would. The water was hot, almost scalding! The soaps were perfumed, and the servants that escorted her stayed as bathing attendants to help her wash.
After a long wash, with several ladles hot water added to the bath to keep the temperature comfortable, the servants helped her rise, dry, and dress. They helped her into a shift, then escorted her into the closet where a Lady waited, with hair done and wearing an elegant dress.
“Lady Rosie?” the new Lady greeted.
“Yes,” Rosie returned.
“I am Lady Jasnafih, sister of Xalvador. He requested a new dress for thee, but mine art the only dresses in the manor presently. I hope they will be sufficient for thee.”
“Thank you!” Rosie said, looking at the assortment of dresses that Jasnafih had brought with her. There were so many! Unfortunately, Jasnafih was slightly larger than Rosie, so few of her dresses would fit.
There were four, all older styles that Jasnafih had grown out of as she matured. Jasnafih insisted that the styles were too outdated – the dresses were only in her wardrobe now because they had been left behind years ago. There was one that could be tailored though. Removing the excess cloth from sleeves and skirts would leave it as a minimalist, slim red dress.
“The minimalist style is always in fashion! Not the height of fashion, of course, but not out of style. It’s like avoiding the question by not playing the game.”
With a shoo-ing motion, Jasnafih sent the tailors off to fix the dress.
“Now… about thine hair…”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Everything, child. Thou will need make-up as well.”
“We’re just stopping for the night…”
“Nonsense.” Jasnafih finished, “Father is livid with Xalvador, thou shalt be here a few days until they work out their disagreement. Besides, thou art a member of my court at my party, I can’t have thee looking like some traveling vagabond!
“Besides, if we make thee look gorgeous, perhaps we can get young Taelroy to drop his jaw when he sees thee. That would be a treat!”
With a few quick commands, Jasnafih’s servants set to work. They pulled and twisted at her hair, plucked hairs along her eyebrows and face, ran a razor (or all things!) along her legs, and applied so many paints and creams to her face that she was sure she would be unrecognizable by the time they were through.
An hour later, Rosie was released from the servants’ ministrations and found the tailor with her dress. She stepped into the dress and looked at herself in the tall mirror. She was gorgeous! The paints and creams on her face highlighted her smile and eyes, while hiding the blemishes that she had always been ashamed of. The dress wasn’t as elegant as what Jasnafih had been wearing, but it was still far nicer than the road-stained options she had brought herself. It covered from neck shoulders to ankles and was not called “minimalist” for the amount of skin it showed, but rather for the lack of decoration, embroidery, and flare upon it. It was simple, minimal, and elegant.
Jasnafih entered the room as Rosie stared in shock at her own reflection. She hadn’t even realized Jasnafih had left! Most shocking though, was that Jasnafih had changed her dress into a deep blue of the same minimalist cut that Rosie wore.
“I didn’t want thee to feel alone, being the only one to wear the minimalist style.”
Rosie could see the truth in her eyes, the minimalist style was always in fashion, but it was not the expected style tonight. Rosie would be out of place – unless the highlight of the party was wearing the same style.
“What dost thou think?” Jasnafih asked, “Dost thee think thou art beautiful?”
“I do.”
“Good. Then let’s go downstairs and see if we can make Taelroy’s jaw hit the floor.”