After exhausting ourselves with the vast array of dresses I had found the one.
"Finally! This is the one!"
Gushed Amy, with shock evident in her voice. She was still recovering from the previous comedic option as she wiped away a tear of laughter.
With a giggle I replied,
"Better than the last?"
Amy nodded vigorously as she abruptly stood from her seated position on the bed and pulled me back in front of the golden mirror hanging luxuriously on the wall.
Whilst doing this she grumbled to herself,
"Why did we have to try this one on last? We could have finished long ago if that were the case."
I silently agreed but braced myself for what I was about to be faced with. This ordeal had given me a much more steely approach to dressing. The way I looked in a few of the other dresses, well I would not wish that upon anybody.
As I turned around I cautiously peeked into the reflection.
Amy had spoken highly about other dresses. Not once was she speaking the truth. Much to her amusement and my displeasure when I looked at myself in the mirror.
She had received quite the few benevolent looks and eventually learnt to stop teasing me. So I hoped that this time she was not joking.
I had wasted too much time, trying on distasteful dresses for a ball where a very distasteful young man will be attending.
As I critically viewed myself in the mirror I saw the dress which, laying on the floor amongst the sea of fabric, had not looked like much but actually complemented my slim frame very well.
The colour could have been likened that to a midsummer night's sky, deep and intense without being too alarming in intensity. It highlighted the blue hues in my eyes, which in normal daylight appeared a dull grey, like clouds before a storm. It drew attention to my long lashes and wide eyes. Complimenting my dark hair which cascaded down my back like a waterfall.
The dress was simple and elegant, but it would suit the situation perfectly.
The dress would please my mother, barely just and more importantly would never. Ever, attract the attention of the Prince.
Nothing was on show as nothing was for sale, for him especially.
I might as well print 'out of stock' on my forehead as they do on the signs in the market square.
Evidently I was not attending this ball to make any such attempts in the matter of "impressing" the Prince. For all I cared, the dress could have been made of woven straw from our stables, but in order to pass my mothers scrutiny the dress would have to surpass some of her high standards.
I cast my gaze away from the mirror with a nod towards Amy,
"This dress will do. There will be many women at this ball and the simplicity of it will keep me well hidden from prying eyes."
My voice held a steeley quality at the mere hint of the heir to the throne and Amy's eyes glittered with amusement.
"Oh I am sure it will."
She turned away with a wink to tidy the mess of material and as I began to argue with her my Mother glided into the room.
With an air of authority about her she placed a silvery mask into my hands and curled them over the edges to make sure that I had a firm grasp.
I looked up into my mother's eyes to see them sternly gazing back at me. She had relaxed since her earlier outburst but I could still see the barely masked annoyance at, what I could only guess was, my earlier outburst about the Prince and his plans.
