I presented the completed gowns to Tilly the day before the ball. I expected some gratitude but she didn’t respond like the typical female. When I pulled them from the bag, she scowled at the sight of them and placed her hands on her hips in defiance.
She looked ridiculous, still favoring her good leg, chains about her feet and her base leather warrior’s garb giving her a beggarly appearance. Her insubordinate posture didn’t blend well with her visage and I resisted the urge to smile.
“I told you I don’t want any lovely garments.”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re coming with me to the ball either way. You can choose to wear one of these gowns or go in that antiquated, paltry apparel.” I pointed at her clothing and allowed my nose to turn in revulsion.
She scowled again but moved in to inspect the gowns further. Fingering the material and studying the needlework, she asked, “Who sewed them?”
“The same lady who made the underwear I bought you.”
“She has a knack.”
“Yes. Una’s the most talented seamstress in all of Dwarkaa.”
Tilly allowed her eyes to find mine and I think I saw some warmth there.
Glancing back at the gowns, she said, “The stitches and seams show expertise workmanship. It’s a shame that the fabric you chose is so dreadful.” She pointed to the brighter hue of the two, a red gown with flecks of gold trim at the neckline and hem. “I will never wear this one. I would stand out like a flower on a wind-swept farrin.”
Disappointment filled my chest. I’d been envisioning her in it and my desire for her was raging at the picture in my mind and her close proximity. “Many women wear such bright colored gowns. You will see tomorrow night. I believe you will be awed at the variety of shades.”
“I will wear what I’m comfortable in. I will wear my leather clothing.”
“If you insist but I have to warn you, you will draw attention and you will be very ill at ease.”
She stared at me sullenly. “What do you mean?”
“No one wears such base wear for a ball. You’re appearance will be that of the lowest slave belonging to the most insignificant family line of Dwarkaa. All the women will shun and mock you. You will find yourself in a very awkward position.”
Her look of uncertainty was the first I’d seen on her pretty face. “How many women will there be at this thing?”
“At the Annual Grand Apolake Warrior Ball?” I asked with a hint of a smile.
“Yes. That.”
“Upwards around two hundred. And each of them will be wearing a fine tailored ball gown. It’s the event of the year when they all show off their wealth and position. They all try to outdo each other, stare at their competition, compare and gossip with their inner circle.”
Tilly looked wary. “What do you mean; their inner circle?”
“The wealthier women confine themselves to befriending those in the same class as they are. The ones in the class below them also refrain from speaking to those in a lower financial bracket. The whole affair is all very competitive and vicious.”
She suddenly looked terrified. “Do I have to attend this ball? Couldn’t I just stay here at the house with my chains?”
I stared at her in surprise. “You’d rather choose to be locked up instead of going to a grand ball?”
“I think so.”
“You’re coming,” I said firmly. “And besides, the food is better than anything I could provide for you, the entertainment is spectacular and the camaraderie is second to none.”
“Camaraderie for whom? I won’t know a soul except for you. And you treat me worse than a slave.”
“That did cross my mind. I’ve arranged an afternoon tea for us this afternoon. I thought it might be beneficial for you to meet some women in my circle before the ball.”
She looked terrified. “I don’t want to.”
“Again, you have no choice. Either you come as you are, or you can wear this.” I pulled out another item from the bag. Una had managed to finish three wardrobe choices for Tilly. The piece was a simple frock in a cotton blend, although still quite elaborate and elegant, and was typical for the women in my class to wear for an afternoon tea.
“I don’t wear such froufrou clothing.”
I released a frustrated breath and said, “You will be utterly shunned if you show up in warrior’s leather.”
Tilly pursed her lips, looking angry and cornered. She finally lowered her arms as her hands left her hips and her angry shoulders dropped a degree. “All right, I’ll go with you. As long as I don’t have to wear the chains and he doesn’t come with us.” She pointed to the beggarly man I’d hired to guard her.
“Agreed.”
I handed her the simpler frock and the emerald green gown she hadn’t rejected. She took both and walked straight-backed to her bedroom.
The afternoon tea went as I expected. Tilly stayed in the dining room with the women, looking cornered and afraid. I left with the men, two ship captains in my rank, and spent time in the den, our talk all about our missions and their congratulations on my new assignment. I actually saw jealousy in their eyes. It always amazes me how a Royal Decree can change the mass’s view in a day. News spread quickly and I was suddenly treated with greater respect by all. The Southeastern Farrin Mission is now exalted.
On our way home, all Tilly did was complain of the insufferable haughtiness of the two women and the dreadfully boring conversation. They’d apparently gone on and on about the ball, the gowns they’d purchased and their opinions on who would wear what. I hoped Tilly would have courage to endure the ball because it was sure to be more of the same.
The following day, when I saw her leave her room and walk towards me in the emerald green gown, my knees buckled and I felt light headed at her stunning visage. I was convinced that she’d be the most gorgeous thing on the dance floor. Every male eye would be glued to her beauty and curvaceous form. I hired a young girl to come and assist Tilly with her hair and it looked stunning and finely sculpted for the day’s events.
I also ordered a Royal carriage pulled by a prized black stallion for our ride to the grand ball. Tilly looked terrified of the animal. She’d obviously never seen a horse before.
Placing her hands on her hips she asked, “You want me to get into that?”
“Absolutely. The beast won’t harm you and the carriage will be a much more dignified way to arrive at the Grand Ball Room. Walking the distance will ruin the hem of your gown.”
She looked down at her elaborate dress, brought her eyes to meet mine and slowly nodded. “All right. But you have to enter first.”
“It’s the usual custom for a man to give his woman a hand up.”
“I don’t care about custom. I refuse to be trapped in that thing on my own.”
“I will enter right after you.”
“No. You go in first,” she said stubbornly.
Tilly was being as difficult as usual, bucking everything that was normal, although I kept forgetting that my standard was still strange to her.
I took the step up into the carriage, turned and gave her my hand. She scowled, looking angry that I thought she needed help, tried to step up on her own, got tangled in her long skirt and nearly fell face down toward the step. She righted herself just in time and looked angrier still.
“Take my hand Tilly. It won’t kill you.”
“I don’t need any man’s help.”
I felt exasperated. “You wanted to be covered by a man. Why are you being so difficult?”
She screamed at me, “I wanted Broehain, not you!”
“Well I am your covering whether you like it or not. Do you want my help or will you continue in your stubbornness?” She stood below me, her gown deep cut in the front and revealing plenty of what I desired. I’d given her one of Tanvi’s jeweled necklaces and it looked spectacular with the gown, the dark emerald stone tucked in at her deep cleavage.
She ignored me, lifted her skirt further and stepped up on her own steam, grabbing the side of the carriage door to heave herself inside. I stepped aside, sat down and shook my head at the obstinate woman I’d chosen as a coverling. Our ride was shrouded in silence. I wondered if she’d ever warm up to me. Thoughts of taking another coverling to supply my rising need had tempted me. I didn’t really want to spend more money on another woman. Having two women under my roof didn’t really appeal to me. Perhaps resorting to more visits to the bathhouse would suffice.
When we arrived at the Grand Ball Room, Tilly and I entered through the large double doors together but she refused to tuck her hand into my arm and so we walked in side by side. I left Tilly with the women she’d met at afternoon tea and sauntered to a group of fellow ship captains at the drink table. Many were already in full spirits, their tongues loosed and their equilibrium debatable. I made sure I was in position to keep an eye on Tilly. In the mood she was in, I didn’t trust her to stay put. She might have the mind to step outside and make a run for it.
At first, the awe in her eyes at being surrounded by the extreme finery and lavish wealth of the ball room is all I noticed on her perfect face. When the other women spoke to her, she answered tentatively.
An hour into the evening, the dinner bell rang and we all took our seats in the adjacent massive room reserved for the meal. Tilly sat beside me, quiet and ill at ease in the surroundings. “When can we leave?” she asked under her breath for the third time since taking our seats.
“We were just seated. The dinner is about to begin. We’re not anywhere close to leaving.”
She released a frustrated breath but then became mesmerized at the platters of food being carried by sharp dressed waiters. Plates of sizzling fare were placed before us and Tilly stared at it as though she were seeing strange apparitions.
She leaned close to me and I took that opportunity to get a good look at her cleavage. “What is this?” she asked pointing to her plate.
“It’s Royal fare reserved for some of the finest servants in Casimer’s Regime.”
She craned her neck to look at me. “You’re that important, huh?”
A fine looking woman across from us overheard Tilly and said, “You are so privileged to be covered by Donagh. Not only was he one of the finest eligible men, but now he’s been given the most honored promotion. You must be very proud of him.”
Tilly stared at the woman and I wondered what she’d say. I hadn’t said a word to her about the promotion.
“Yes, I’m very proud.” Tilly looked down, reached for an eating utensil and started picking at her food.
I leaned toward her and whispered, “I didn’t know you cared.”
She kept her voice low as she answered, “Shut up.” Her hard eyes bore into mine. “I said it for the uppity woman across the table, not for you.”
I responded with a grin and she actually smiled back and giggled. Her joy sounded like the land of Efa to me and warmed me down to my toes.
After the meal, the dance began. I led Tilly onto the dance floor, she resisting and looking beside herself with terror. “I don’t know how to dance!”
“You’ll have to learn fast.” Although she bucked to get away, I held her firmly and forced her to move with me to the music. My feet suffered for my determination to dance with my coverling but I was sure it would be worth it. After the first horrible dance, I led her back to the sidelines and resigned myself to watch other couples while Tilly fumed beside me at the injustice I’d inflicted on her.
“Now everyone knows how inept and foreign I am here!” she hissed beside me.
“We didn’t make that much of a spectacle.”
“Oh yes we did,” she nodded.
“But they also noticed how stunning you are in that emerald green gown.”
“This dress is stifling. I don’t know how the women tolerate such frilly garments. It’s exasperating.”
“But it is beautiful to look at.”
“I’m not a showpiece, nor will I ever be. I’m a warrior”
“Not anymore.” I left her then to join my comrades at the drink table.
I kept my eye on Tilly as the evening wore on. She began to look more and more miserable. The women, although they tried to include her, began to ignore her as Tilly responded to them as only Tilly could. I noticed her leave the room through the large glass doors at the end, where an expansive veranda overlooked a small lake and the beautiful grounds of the Grand Ball Facility.
After a few minutes I excused myself and went to find her.
Tilly was standing up next to the rail, looking out over the extensive grounds. I noticed a ship captain, Strubel, walk toward her and begin to engage her in conversation. I quickly strode into position, placing myself behind a large potted plant within listening range. I was curious what the man wanted with my coverling. Tilly gazed up at Strubel and smiled. My insides twisted at the sight.
Thoughts of my former coverling, Tanvi, crowded my mind and the familiar jealousy and anger filled my chest. Using all the self-control I possessed, I stayed where I was and left my knife tucked in at my waist.
