A prettily dressed weapon
Finally, the day had arrived.
The first of the Lords were arriving.
Artie had been woken up at an ungodly hour by her handmaids to be bathed, brushed, primped and polished into the image of a King while Lady Morgan and Lady Guinevere arrived to add a few finishing touches.
Tiffany and Aoife were swearing, Moira's hair was a mess, Ragnelle was actually raising her voice, and Artie was just doing her best to survive the reality that was womanhood during this era.
If she had thought the outfit that the girls had prepared for her about two weeks ago was a lot, she had another thing coming. This was a gown that Lady Guinevere had insisted on once she had seen it. It was tight in the chest but allowed for a range of motion in the skirts. The dark shade looked like it was either dark blue or black until Artie shifted in the sun and then it was clear that it was a deep, dark green.