Neidr waited with Dew after Efa and Anest tamed her curly hair into a manageable, low bun. White metal flowers skimmed around her bun for a nice finish. 

Cothi and Anest dragged Efa from the room to get properly dressed. Neidr needed to go as well, but only after they returned to wait with Dew for the seamstresses. Efa didn’t want to leave Dew, insisting her dress was perfectly acceptable. Neidr disagreed wholeheartedly. This was a royal wedding and the sister of the future queen should be radiant. 

The only problem being, Dew doubted Efa had something fit for a royal wedding. 

Efa returned in one of her dark green dresses, hair brushed and loose. 

Neidr frowned at the selection but refused to argue on the matter. She disappeared to get ready. Before she could return, the seamstresses arrived. 

Dew’s entire body trembled as the seamstresses rushed around her. Efa waited a few feet to her right with her hands clenched tightly together. Her other ladies filed into a small semi-circle around her. Neidr reappearing at last. 

Dilys, the head seamstress, finally entered from the sitting room. In her arms was the off-white leather material Dew chose. It had been cut into three pieces. 

The first two appeared to be gloves that would race the entirety of her arm. It left her hands mostly exposed with only a small strip wrapping the base of her thumb. Each sleeve had three clasps that clipped together under her upper arm. The last piece slid around her chest, covering her breasts and stomach. It clipped at the back. A tight, leather corset that her father would have whipped her for wearing. The reminder made her skin prickle. 

Dilys disappeared and returned with the silky, blue cloth Dew picked. The seamstresses shimmied it over her hips and through her arms. It had no sleeves, only thick straps that wound together at her shoulders with fine metal work. Scandalously, the dress split down the center, cupping her breasts individually and exposing the leather beneath. It stopped just before her navel and hugged her waist tightly. The rest of the material flowed straight to the floor. 

The ensemble left Dew mostly covered except for her back where the leather didn’t cover the top and the dress dipped down to her ass. A small piece of herself exposed in comparison to how the dress would fit without the leather corset or sleeves. 

“His Majesty demanded these,” a seamstress offered a strange article to Dilys. 

Dilys nodded vigorously and searched for the top of the material. Once found, she unfurled the material with a gentle flap. Individual pearls chimed together at the movement. She quickly wrapped it around Dew’s shoulders, easily fitting into her dress’s clasps. It missed the ground by an inch. 

Dilys wrapped a cold, white necklace of metal tightly around her neck and Dew nearly protested until Dilys clucked her tongue and readjusted it. The design reminded Dew of lace at home but with wide gaps in the design for pearls to be wedged in. A single jewel dropped to rest in the hollow of her throat. A pretty blue gem to match her dress. 

Dew turned to garner the thoughts of her ladies. 

Efa’s face maintained a deep shade of red, much to the amusement of the Fae. 

Dew understood her thoughts exactly, though. Such tight clothing would never be acceptable at home. 

Neidr stepped forward to smooth the fabric down and adjust a few strings of pearls at the back. 

“He is going to drool,” she stated simply. 

Cothi and Anest giggled behind their hands. 

“We have some time before you are due,” Neidr stepped away and with a wave of her hand, dismissed the seamstresses. 

“Thank you,” Dew called out as they began to leave, “for your hard work.” 

They all curtsied at her and slipped from the room. 

Dew sat on her stool and tried hard not to pick her fingers raw. Her palms sweated profusely but she couldn’t wipe it on the dress. 

Efa provided her with a handkerchief and tried to hold her hands in comfort. 

“Should we practice the dancing again?” Cothi asked with a frown. 

“I think we should.” Dew shoved herself off of her seat and took her position in the center of her bedroom. 

Cothi lifted her left hand, Dew matching, and they began. 

Slowly, they circled one another, palms facing but never touching. Cothi lead the dance and wrapped her hand around Dew’s lifted wrist. She slipped behind Dew, their movement never ceasing, and circled back around to her front. They switched to using right hands and Cothi repeated the movement. 

A simple dance of circles and lifting hands. But, the simple dance would meld into more complicated footsteps as the music accompanying would increase in pace. Dew would be expected to dance around Rhyddid, never touching, only teasing. Then, they would move together. 

Neidr explained the dance to be good luck to the married couple. A sensual bonding moment right after the joining. 

No one else would join the dance unless they wished to be challenging Rhyddid to a fierce duel. 

“What happens if one of the noble ladies joins?” Dew asked suddenly and Cothi stopped leading. 

“Joins what?”

“The dance.”

Cothi frowned and glanced to Neidr who scowled fiercely from her perch on the vanity’s bench. 

“No one will join your dance,” Neidr promised. 

Dew suspected that typically, if a man joined, it would be challenging the man, and vice versa for the ladies. The wording had been very precise and Rhyddid’s warning that the ladies were just as capable as the lords in court nagged her. 

If a lady joined the dance to challenge Dew, Dew would lose. She could not produce fire from her hands like Cothi did. 

Neidr’s fierce gaze settled some of Dew’s anxiety. Her chief lady-in-waiting would not tolerate any interference. 

“Thank you,” Dew said sincerely. “I know I do not have anything to offer you myself. I know you are here to gain Rhyddid’s favors for your families. I am still grateful to you. All of you.” She glanced to each Fae lady in turn. 

“You are about to be queen,” Neidry dismissed with a snort. “You have plenty to offer now and you will have more to offer soon.”

“I don’t,” she argued honestly. “I hold no wealth, no lands, no say, no opinions in this court. I barely speak your language or understand your history. I can only offer human sentiments and I suppose a few foals, if that turns out well.”

Neidr’s frown deepened, the wrinkles along her forehead cutting down into a sharp ‘v’. 

“I may hold sway over Rhyddid, but why would he listen to me?” Dew continued, trying to make Neidr understand her. “There is no game to play with me. Make me happy and maybe Rhyddid will be favorable to you, but as he said the first day I was here, he does not need servants who must be told how to do their job.” She sighed heavily and finished with, “If you win this game, Neidr, what can you possibly gain? The satisfaction of winning?” 

“Perhaps, because you are still new to court,” Anest tried to argue but Dew only shook her head. 

“These games of court are not my forte. They are not Efa’s either.” She smiled at her sister who nodded ruefully. “But, I know that to play the game there must be something to lose and something to gain.” 

“You say if I win, I shall have satisfaction,” Neidr pondered for a bit and continued, “but what if I lose?”

“Then, I shall have a headache.” 

Neidr laughed in disbelief. 

“They raise you humans to be weak. You have much you can gain at court.”

“I am Rhyddid’s property,” Dew explained. “Anything I win shall go to him.” 

Neidr’s amusement faded. 

“We do not marry property.” 

A sharp knock on the door interrupted them. It was time to leave. 

Neidr shared a look with the other two Fae and approached Dew. With one hand, she grasped Dew’s and stared into her silver eyes for a moment. Neidr’s pupils dilated as she focused, the soft orange shining bright. 

“You will learn,” she said with utter determination. “And we shall help you.” 

“Even if I can offer nothing?” Dew blinked up at her, already exhausted from her nerves. 

Neidr shook her head in disappointment. She said nothing more on the subject and tugged her to the door. 

Huw, the steward, waited patiently on the other side. He bowed low as Dew emerged from her private room. 

“They are waiting,” he said simply and turned to guide her out. 

“Remember,” Neidr whispered low, “your oath must be plain and true. Leave no room for misinterpretation.”

Dew swallowed hard and gave her a sharp nod.