cendal that found as much favor in their mistress's eyes.
While Helvise shook out the creases and draped both garments across the bed, she kept glancing at Brenna, wary of being the victim of a prank. But no. She stood perfectly
docile as the chainse of blue linen floated down over her head and settled like a cloud around her body. She even exhibited rare patience while Helvise took up her needle and thread and threw in a line of hidden stitches to fit the long sleeves fashionably tight to her wrists and forearms. The silk of the overtunic, so deep and rich a red as to be almost black, was designed to snugly mold the shape of her upper body, which it did with exceeding boldness. From the waist it widened gracefully in full, soft pleats so that when she walked, the hems of the both the bliaud and undertunic
dragged several feet behind.
The sleeves of the burgundy silk were deliberately elongated and flared, requiring more fussing, first to tack them artfully into a cuff that would reveal the seafoam blue beneath, then to knot the trailing points into rose-shaped clusters to prevent them from trailing on the floor. An elaborately embroidered girdle of gold samite was passed around her waist, further emphasizing her decidedly feminine shape, and after crossing in back, the ends were draped forward over the hips and pinned to form a deep V over her belly.
On Brenna's impatient orders, the damp abundance of her hair was wrestled back into a long braid and wound into a coil at the nape of her neck. A delicate silk wimple was fitted loosely over her head and draped in airy folds beneath her chin. It was capped by a rose-colored veil and the whole held in place by a jeweled circlet of gold.
Helvise was holding her breath as she stepped back. The entire transformation from grimy ruffian to perfumed lady had taken just over an hour, a miracle by any church standards. To be sure there were more refinements that could have been added—jewels, brooches, rings—but the maid was not wont to press her luck by making any suggestions.
She was happy just to nod her approval as Brenna fingered the hanging ends of the girdle and spun once, letting the silk lift and cream around her ankles again.
"Think you I am safe joining the rest of the household for supper now?"
"You could probably join the Dauphin of France and he -would not find fault."
Brenna laughed and put on the slippers Helvise had set out. They were stiff from lack of use and pinched her toes terribly, but she donned them without complaint and hurried down the tower stairs to the lower level. Just before bursting out onto the landing of the great hall, she slowed and folded her hands demurely in front, then peeked around the corner of the block wall. There was still food on the tables, for the evening meal often lasted upward of several hours, though some of the formalities lapsed after the main courses were served. Eleanor was standing behind her mother's chair showing off some bit of embroidery on her sleeve. Richard and Dag had joined a table of knights below and were discussing the morrow's training events over full tankards of ale. Rhiannon had moved closer to the middle of the dais and was staring longingly at Will with wide puppy eyes, trying to get his attention; Will, meanwhile was studiously avoiding the temptation and stood behind the Wolf's chair in anticipation of his lord wanting to retire for the evening.
Sparrow was still seated beside Griffyn Renaud, although the major part of his attention was fixed on the pile of bones he was picking clean in front of him. Renaud's appetite had apparently not suffered either from the close quarters. There was a large quantity of bowls and boards in front of him, most of them empty but for crumbs, and as Brenna watched, he was tearing up the last few squares of his trencher and enjoying every last gravy-soaked hunk he put in his mouth. Beside him, Robin was refilling both their goblets and laughing as he pointed to
While Helvise shook out the creases and draped both garments across the bed, she kept glancing at Brenna, wary of being the victim of a prank. But no. She stood perfectly
docile as the chainse of blue linen floated down over her head and settled like a cloud around her body. She even exhibited rare patience while Helvise took up her needle and thread and threw in a line of hidden stitches to fit the long sleeves fashionably tight to her wrists and forearms. The silk of the overtunic, so deep and rich a red as to be almost black, was designed to snugly mold the shape of her upper body, which it did with exceeding boldness. From the waist it widened gracefully in full, soft pleats so that when she walked, the hems of the both the bliaud and undertunic
dragged several feet behind.
The sleeves of the burgundy silk were deliberately elongated and flared, requiring more fussing, first to tack them artfully into a cuff that would reveal the seafoam blue beneath, then to knot the trailing points into rose-shaped clusters to prevent them from trailing on the floor. An elaborately embroidered girdle of gold samite was passed around her waist, further emphasizing her decidedly feminine shape, and after crossing in back, the ends were draped forward over the hips and pinned to form a deep V over her belly.
On Brenna's impatient orders, the damp abundance of her hair was wrestled back into a long braid and wound into a coil at the nape of her neck. A delicate silk wimple was fitted loosely over her head and draped in airy folds beneath her chin. It was capped by a rose-colored veil and the whole held in place by a jeweled circlet of gold.
Helvise was holding her breath as she stepped back. The entire transformation from grimy ruffian to perfumed lady had taken just over an hour, a miracle by any church standards. To be sure there were more refinements that could have been added—jewels, brooches, rings—but the maid was not wont to press her luck by making any suggestions.
She was happy just to nod her approval as Brenna fingered the hanging ends of the girdle and spun once, letting the silk lift and cream around her ankles again.
"Think you I am safe joining the rest of the household for supper now?"
"You could probably join the Dauphin of France and he -would not find fault."
Brenna laughed and put on the slippers Helvise had set out. They were stiff from lack of use and pinched her toes terribly, but she donned them without complaint and hurried down the tower stairs to the lower level. Just before bursting out onto the landing of the great hall, she slowed and folded her hands demurely in front, then peeked around the corner of the block wall. There was still food on the tables, for the evening meal often lasted upward of several hours, though some of the formalities lapsed after the main courses were served. Eleanor was standing behind her mother's chair showing off some bit of embroidery on her sleeve. Richard and Dag had joined a table of knights below and were discussing the morrow's training events over full tankards of ale. Rhiannon had moved closer to the middle of the dais and was staring longingly at Will with wide puppy eyes, trying to get his attention; Will, meanwhile was studiously avoiding the temptation and stood behind the Wolf's chair in anticipation of his lord wanting to retire for the evening.
Sparrow was still seated beside Griffyn Renaud, although the major part of his attention was fixed on the pile of bones he was picking clean in front of him. Renaud's appetite had apparently not suffered either from the close quarters. There was a large quantity of bowls and boards in front of him, most of them empty but for crumbs, and as Brenna watched, he was tearing up the last few squares of his trencher and enjoying every last gravy-soaked hunk he put in his mouth. Beside him, Robin was refilling both their goblets and laughing as he pointed to
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