BURN

the painting

"You look," Emma Anemone says sternly, "Like a giraffe."

Beatrix, standing nearby, puts her head in her hands.

Agatha stares back at this crazed canary-yellow lady, uncertain whether to laugh or not. Anemone, Seamstress by Appointment to the Royal Family, has apparently been sent to help with wedding dresses, and Agatha is somewhat apprehensive. She's very hard on the eyes. Agatha has never seen so much yellow before-- even her eyeliner is yellow. Sending someone so colourful to design her a dress feels like something of a misstep.

"Um, I'm... sorry?" she hazards, wondering how one should respond to being compared to a giraffe. At least Anemone had said nothing about her face-- she'd shot her a cursory glance and nothing more.

The seamstress sighs and whips a tape measure from her pocket.

"Suppose it can't be helped. Genetics. Stand up straight for me, dear-- no, straight--"

Agatha pushes her shoulders back, grimacing as Anemone snags the tape measure around her waist.

"So, what are you thinking?" she asks. "Tulle? Silk? Cashmere? Chiffon? Are you wearing white or something a little more avant garde? Slits for another colour to peek through? Crinoline? Train? Sash? How about jewellery?"

Agatha stares helplessly at her.

"Well...er, I just thought I'd..."

She hasn't thought about it at all, to be honest. She doesn't know the first thing about fashion, she just wears whatever she's given, so to suddenly be given free rein over a dress literally everyone is going to see is... highly alarming.

Anemone can clearly tell she has absolutely no plans.

"What kind of a bride are you?" she demands, measuring between her shoulders. "Not even thought about it? I'd have thought any girl would have been absolutely dying to marry Tedros. Hasn't the marriage been settled for years?"

"Um, yeah, it's not like I object to the wedding bit-- well, I mean, It's an arranged marriage, but...I mean..."

Agatha pauses, staring at her feet.

"I don't know what I mean."

"He's finally got to you." says Beatrix, examining sample dresses in the corner. "Knew it'd happen eventually. It's the earnestness, isn't it--"

"He hasn't." snaps Agatha. "It's just not him I object to."

"It's fashion in general, apparently." murmurs Anemone, staring at Agatha's battered work boots. Agatha sighs.

"Listen, can I just wear something normal? Like, nice. But normal--"

A new voice cuts in.

"Our courts have agreed that your dress is to encompass the fashions of both kingdoms, to symbolise the union of Camelot and Gavaldon."

Agatha closes her eyes briefly.

"And Tedros and I were both included in that decision, I presume?" she asks icily, turning to watch Vanessa enter the room. Dot and Beatrix exchange apprehensive glances.

Vanessa shoots her the disdainful glance she always gives her when she's unveiled and turns to Anemone, holding out a sheaf of drawings.

"The King's ladies have provided some sketches. Myself and my maids have altered them to better fit our fashions."

"I see." says Anemone, shifting through the sketches. "And these were approved by...?"

"Weatherford and the King himself both said they liked them." says Vanessa smoothly. "The King seemed very... enthusiastic about being involved in proceedings."