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"I have not yet laid out your clothes for this evening’s event, And I have small request from you, please." Henna took a breath. “You know how I work really hard right? Well I need an assistant, I need someone to run messages for me and pull out stitches, to iron and to dye." She looked down at her feet then back up at him. "May I please have Alexander?"

She held her breath and preyed that he would say yes. He had no reason not to, "He is not really doing much in his current job and I think I can give him something he can really find fulfillment in.” She reached out and fixed the prince's collar absentmindedly. Her finger pressing down the seam so it stayed crisp and nice. “I’ll do anything extra you need of me, I really need a helping hand with everything that needs doing.” She looked up at him her big brown eyes begging him to say yes.

"What do you think, Highness?"

Amanae blinked at herself in the mirror, then turned her head from side to side, impressed in spite of herself. Her long, fine, white-blonde hair, which normally was stubbornly straight, no matter what her hairdressers tried, had been coaxed into a soft cascade of loose curls. She turned in her chair to face the Neko maid, who was standing behind her and smiling proudly. "How did you do that?" she asked, intrigued, "My hair does not curl."

The girl blushed. "I have some ability with magic, Your Highness; nothing really impressive, of course, but I can get hair to do what I want it to, most of the time." Clearly embarrassed, she changed the subject. "Let me pin the crown in, and you'll be all set, Highness."

Amanae obediently turned back to face the mirror and met the eyes of her own reflection. They were an odd, silvery blue that had always reminded her of the sky just after dawn. All of her brothers possessed the same eyes, though her father did not; they had been inherited from her mother. I wonder if Mother came to visit Father before they got married, she mused, Maybe she was determined not to marry, either. Maybe she wanted to keep both her eyes and her life to herself, and avoid being killed by a daughter that she never even got to see. Not a pleasant-- "Ow!" she yell as a sharp pain lanced through her scalp.

"Oh, Your Highness, I'm sorry!" the maid cried. Amanae felt delicate fingers hurriedly push aside hair to find the spot. "Oh, dear! You're bleeding! Oh, I'm so sorry, I just--The pin slipped-- Oh, I am so, so sorry!" The poor girl sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

"Shhh," Amanae soothed. The girl's fingers stilled, and she went silent. "Is it bleeding very much?"

"Well... no," the girl replied hesitantly, "It was just a little pin, and it only pricked you."

"Then don't worry about it," Amanae said firmly, "These things happen. Am I done?"

"Oh! Um... just let me put in that last pin," the maid said softly, still sounding miserable. The weight on her head shifted slightly, and then settled back into place. "Alright, Your Highness, you're finished."

Amanae stood, walked quickly over to the full-length mirror in one side of the room, and stared. The dress was the same silvery blue as her eyes, with tiny golden flowers embroidered all over the bodice, as well as at the neckline, around ends of the long, empire-style sleeves, and along the hem of the gown. A single, delicate flower crafted out of five sapphires hung on a golden chain around her neck, and the crown pinned into her hair was woven out of tiny vines and roses that were entirely crafted out of beaten gold.

Amanae looked at her reflection for a few moments, and her reflection stared back, its face carefully expressionless. As they regarded each other, something unpleasant welled up in her chest. Finally she turned back to the maid. "I do not like the dress," she said flatly.

The girl was visibly startled. "But...Your Highness... The ambassadors that accompanied you were very specific--"

"I do not care," Amanae interrupted, her voice shooting up a few octaves. She knew that she sounded shrill, but didn't care. "I hate it. And I hate the crown. I hate the necklace--" The little Neko was starting to look downright panicked as the volume of the princess' voice increased. "But that doesn't matter, does it? What I want never matters. I have to come get married, I have to be polite, I have to smile when I feel like throwing up, I have to be pretty. In other words, I have to be everything I'm not, just because I was born with the defect of being a princess. I just want..." Suddenly, she was drained instead of furious, and found herself hovering on the edge of tears. "I just want everyone to leave me alone," she finished. To her relief, her voice did not tremble.

The little maid was trembling, and her face was very white. She couldn't seem to find any words. After a few seconds, she sank down into the chair that Amanae had vacated a few minutes earlier. "Please," she said finally, her voice very small, "Have I done something wrong?"

Amanae shook her head. "No. I am sorry to have done that; it has been building up for a while, and had nothing whatsoever to do with you." She managed a small smile. "The dress is lovely."

The little maid nodded, but her face remained wary as she got to her feet. "I'm glad, Your Highness. If there's nothing else...?"Amanae shook her head again. The maid curtsied. "Then I hope you enjoy yourself at tonight's festivities, Highness. Your escort should be here soon." With that, the maid made a polite but hasty retreat.

'Damn those eyes," the prince thought, his lust vanishing at her innocence. But still, she wished to do him a favor. The Prince stared blankly at the ceiling above him as he thought.

A long silence passed them by before at long last an idea appeared in his mind, "As the keeper of the Royal wardrobe, I would assume you would have access to the entirety of the castles uniforms. I wish for you to get me a very specific set of clothing, that of the royal escort." Yes he had a little surprise for the Princess, and this way, if she proved to be truly appalling, he could far gone by the time the Banquet started.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have a bath to take, please have the clothes ready for me by the time I am finished."

(I got class in the morning, night)

(last one, I swear)

After a short, but relaxing wash in the tub, the Prince returned to his joint Chamber in nothing but a towel, to find the clothes he had requested, along with the girl whom had brought them, "Hm, thank you very much. Consider the Minstrel yours," Cyrith smirked as he felt the fabric, no where near as soft as his own apparel, but still passable, "I just have one more thing to ask of you. Please wait for just one moment."

With the clothes in hand, the prince returned to his personal washroom to change. Several minutes passed until at last he had reemerged, his earrings removed and his hair once again tied back, "So what do you think, will this convince the Princess?"

(Damn I had this whole thing written out then as I was just about to finish, the window closed itself *sigh*)

Cyrith was quite caught off guard by the seamstress's embrace, he was not used to being treated so informally outside when someone was aware of his identity, "Simply lay out my clothing for later and you will be free to take your leave. Now if you will excuse me, I must take my own." Cyrith could only imagine the look of mortification on his mother's face were he to arrive looking a common servant, no he would need to abandon the Princess at the door.

Without uttering another word, the Prince departed from his chambers and made his way to the Guest room. As he approached, the true escort came into view, "Do not worry, I shall handle this."

Slightly insulted by the new 'escort's' directness, the man decided it was his right to put the young man in his place, "I shall have you know that I am under direct orders from the King to watch over the Princess."

Cyrith was quite aware that his father could not be bothered to organize such a thing in person, but to correct the man might blow his cover, and so, the Prince chose a different approach. His green eyes met the mans and pierced him to the very soul, "I am terribly sorry, I just did not believe it appropriate for the Princess to be escorted by someone in the nude."

Though the man was clearly dressed from Cyrith's point of view, the escort suddenly turned beat red with embarrassment and seemed to cover his more private areas, "Make sure that she goes directly to the banquet hall!" the man Panicked, the hurriedly dashed down the hall, heading for the servant's area.

With a small smirk, the Prince approached the door, and, very politely, knocked.

"Good evening M'lady, I shall be your escort for the evening," the Prince spoke, studying the Princess out of the corners of his eyes. She was admittingly beautiful, her Blond hair flowing with a slight curl and her skin smooth and tanned, but still she was not THAT well endowed, "Might I add that you are looking simly radiant tonight?"

"Now if you are ready, I believe we should be on our way, the King likes his guests to arrive early," Cyrith explained, a half truth. Though his father did indeed enjoy entering with everyone already gathered, Cyrith planned to use this extra time for different purposes, besides, in his father's condition, the King might not arrive at all. Politely, he walked to the girl's side, forming a triangle with his arm and body for her arm to hook into.