Arilith's Past: Preparation

Coming from under a bunch of maids, still checking and measuring her dress, but giving her a bit of room, Arilith comes out with a sigh. She knows that to fight them is useless, that under the command of her mother, they will finish her dress even if Anathema come knocking on the door.

On cue someone opens the door, but instead of seeing a Forsaken or some such thing, she sees something worse: her mother. She can feel the close scrutiny of her mother's penetrating gaze on every inch of her dress, checking hem, waist, and every other segment of the dress for a perfect fit.

Not like the dress didn't look like it was made for her, because it was. Light blue shifting into white the lower it goes, with blue hearthstone armbands with matching hearthstones on the arms, saphire earrings and the most beautiful blue eyes you could ever have seen. The ensemble was perfect.

"Hurry up, Ari, the guests have already begun to arrive." And everyone knew her voice was law, so all the maids just finished their touches on Arilith's dress and let her pass.

Walking down the hallway, they seemed identical. Proper behaviour in every step. But where you could see the breeding in her mother, Arilith seemed rebellious against it. And not conciously, even. She had trouble walking in such a way, the high heels gave her trouble, and she hated the long part of the skirt dragging behind her, even though it was enchanted not to snag or to even touch the floor.

It wasn't even the clothes, she thought. It was everything they represented, and everything they brought with them. It brought people's attention. People's stares and admiration. But it was all unearned. It was all because it was House Leedal. Nothing else. While she wore that dress, she was Ledaal's newest heir, nothing more. She felt like she stopped being an individual, and she hated that.