Chapter Text
“Out. Out-out-out-out. OUT!” Lieseleta fights down giggles as she resists the attempt by her lady to eject her from the room.
“My lady.” She speaks quietly while digging in her feet to resist the young woman pushing against her. “I need to assist you in preparing for bed.”
“No. I do not need anyone ‘helping’ me while I prepare for bed tonight of all nights.” Her mouth is set in a stubborn pout. “I am perfectly capable of preparing for my… my…”
“Husband?” Lieseleta’s voice teases. “I would be able to believe you if you could bring yourself to say the word, my lady.” She suppresses a giggle as the driving force stops. Lifting the hands from her chest she suppresses the urge to giggle madly, instead leading her lady to the prepared bath. “Let me finish bathing you and helping you prepare; I will leave when all is in readiness and notify Lord F… your husband that you are prepared. It will not be a ‘spectator sport’ of any kind, I assure you.” She giggles at the lewdness of that thought, “though I will ask for you to summon me if you need another bath.”
“Fine.” The word slips reluctantly out. “I cannot figure out how to undo this bodice by myself anyway.”
Lieseleta bites her lip to stifle further giggles, helping her lady disrobe and bathe. A few dabs of perfume and several minutes of brushing out the long, midnight blue hair later she prepares to weave it into complex braids. A hand stops Lieseleta from bundling-up the silky-smooth mass; she watches as her lady pulls and twists her hair expertly before securing the mass with the long metal hair stick adorned with feystones. The practiced ease of her motions is striking – it is as if her lady had done this act hundreds or even thousands of times before – though for as long as Lieseleta has known her she has never seen this performed.
A hand stops Lieseleta as she approaches with a night dress. “T-This is why I wanted to do this alone.” Her lady’s voice trembles slightly as she walks to a box on her work table. Opening the box she removes what at first appears to be a white dress. Moving closer Lieseleta realizes that the entire gown is constructed of hand-knit lace; the delicacy of it causes her breath to catch in her throat. “Help me, please.” The voice is timid, reminding Lieseleta of the shumils to which her lady is often compared.
She arranges the gown, stepping back to look at it – and her lady with new eyes. She is covered – yet she is not. The sheer fabric causes Lieseleta to shiver for a moment; she cannot imagine what would possess a woman to present herself to anyone like this. Something so… brazen and lewd while remaining fragile and strangely pure.
“I will await my husband here.” Her lady moves to the window; the moon rising to throw her into a silhouette that could drive a man to madness.
She steps outside the room, finding Lord Ferdinand pacing on the floor. “She waits for you, my lord.” Her voice cannot seem to rise above a whisper; the fragile quality draws his gaze, a flash of trepidation showing briefly before disappearing once more.
“Is… she well?” His voice is unsure, so unlike the Legendary Lord of Evil.
“She is ready, my lord.” She pauses for a moment, “Perhaps more ready than I could have imagined she would be.”
His brow furrows briefly in confusion as he steps to the door. Lieseleta places a hand on the chest of his man Justus. “Our work is done for now.” She glances over her shoulder, seeing Lord Ferdinand frozen in the doorway.
A soft, honeyed voice calls past the statue-like form, “Come, love. Wrap me in your colors.”
The door closes and Justus looks wide eyed at Lieseleta. She shakes her head briefly, “It would be best if we were to seek rest ourselves. I believe the dawn will be long forgotten before they have need or want of us.”