After mere moments had elapsed, one of the Maids of the Personage reappeared in a completely dry uniform and escorted E’lin up a broad flight of gently curving stairs, apologizing as she went for the necessity of the untoward change of location. Such had been the urgency of the Bride’s care that a lower bathroom had been used as opposed to the one adjacent to the chambers which she was to occupy during the span before the Wedding.  The colonial girl, feeling very shy and rustic in this situation, trailed after the servant without a peep.

In truth, this was no different than her life had always been.  From her family’s farm, she had been scouted and chosen at the age of six cycles for the Seminary of the Select, a grander and more impersonal environment.  E’lin had made friends there, some of them quite close, but when she was promoted ahead of her classmates to the School for Brides, the child of ten had learned to be cautious with her emotions.  No matter what the supposed lesson was, the maxim to be absorbed was submission.  Meekness and serenity were preferred to tears and tantrums, for it was thought that any girl favored enough to grace the arm of a Lord of Out-of-Plane should be decorative, and otherwise complaisant in disposition.  And at every institution she attended, her eyes were highly praised, the blue of luck.

So E’lin excelled at placidity, at acquiescence, and at detachment most of all.  At least, she became superlative at separating her surface thoughts and facial expressions from the living, feeling heart of her, the core that risked having opinions of its own.  On the outside, the young girl’s demeanor was as calm and compliant as any tutor could wish, one might almost say eerily so, were one not conditioned never to question the wisdom of those who dealt directly with the great and terrible Elite of Out-of-Plane.  Growing up this way could not fail to shape E’lin’s interior landscape, either.  She actually was more patient, more adaptable, and more accepting than other girls her age, but her spirit was by no means broken.  With this composure came an unparalleled imagination, burgeoning creativity, and the novel ability to perceive things from vastly different viewpoints.  To the Bride herself, she was simply who she was; E’lin wasn’t much given to introspection, as she didn’t see the common sense in that.

The rooms which had been allotted to the Bride were breathtaking.  The apartments were decorated in a dreamy cyan, like being barely under the water, or just breaking through a cloud.  Privately E’lin wondered if everything she encountered that was intended for her use in Out-of-Plane would be some variant of blue.  Navy flight suit, powder blue robe, and now a cerulean mixture of hues had been added to the palette.  Efficiently, E’lin was shown to a type of desk with a mirror above it, whose drawers were all full of every kind of brush and comb imaginable.  Once she had made her preferences known, the extraneous utensils would vanish, ushering in room for a modest array of scent and cosmetics choices.  The Bride learned that this white wood was called Ash, and the piece of furniture itself, aptly, a vanity.

“Do you desire assistance in combing out your hair, Mistress E’lin, or will we not be needed until you wish to arrange it suitably?”  A Bride must never frown, therefore there was no visible wistfulness shown that she might be allowed to arrange her hair in some fashion which pleased her.  She could, however, and did, thank the Maid of the Personage for this period to regather her thoughts after the utter sensuality of her bath.

The past few days: there was a fruitful topic.  E’lin had been, since the frenzy caused by the message from one of the Lords of Out-of-Plane took hold, bathed and unbathed, clothed and unclothed, gilded and ungilded.  She wondered what she could look forward to next.  The provincial Bride’s appearance was removed, at least superficially.  What now would these Lords and Ladies elect that E’lin become?  Her shelter had done its best to shape her into a golden rose in an alabaster vase.  Apparently, it was not a guise which appealed deeply to her Husband.  His taste was a mystery, unless it leaned toward the clingy, navy material of the flight suit.  And while Grand High Lady Ana’i had chosen floaty, delicate, pink silk for her own garments which randomly dangled gems, E’lin suspected her idea of what a Bride should wear would be markedly different.

Really, there were almost no tangles in her shoulder length hair, but the rhythmic and mindless repetition of motion was comforting, a constant in a swiftly tumbling universe.  E’lin found herself humming a tune she hadn’t heard since she was a tiny child, still on the family farm, about the seasons changing, but the land remaining the same, or romanticized in verse, Nature’s finery was ever fluid, yet Her Ladyship’s smiles always blessed.  The Bride wondered idly if she could even claim to stay consistent underneath the costuming, and stole a quick glimpse at the mirror just in case she might suddenly have faded without someone standing over her telling her what to be and how to look.  Not that she was seriously worried, but, well, it never hurt to make sure.  Whether E’lin would have preferred more time to ruminate upon the events of the day or might have been wary of sliding into a mood of self-pity became irrelevant soon thereafter, however, for three of the Maids of the Personage returned.

A heated fan was used to finish drying her hair swiftly, and then one of the serving women began plaiting braids narrower than E’lin’s little fingernail at her temples.   While their colleague was so engaged, the other two presented various garments already furnished in her wardrobe for the Bride to wear to dinner.  She was not particularly surprised to find that these ranged predominantly from white to deep blue, although the array of patterns and fabrics deemed necessary for a stay of seven days (Old Earth Standard) was a wonderment.  Apparently, the hue of her eyes had been known in advance and was accordingly being celebrated.

The truly remarkable thing about her clothing, though, was how much at least tonight’s ensemble resembled the styles of E’lin’s home world of Otralto, and more specifically, her own shelter, for the climate of the small planet was widely variable.  Pristine white lace edged the bodice of the dress, as well as forming a light overskirt to the sheer blue gauze which made up the skirt and sleeves.  On the farm, it would be homelier cloth, of course, with an apron, but still, the Bride had not expected to find even remote similarities between what she was accustomed to seeing, and what she was now to embrace as her new norm.  E’lin was conscious of a moment of relief that she would not have to try to figure out how to put on alien and possibly incomprehensibly complex patterns.  If it occurred to her that her own sensibilities were being solicitously, yet unassumingly, catered to, it was certainly a transitory thought, lost in the slightly overwhelming abundance of such luxury.

Once she was suitably attired, the several tiny braids to either side of her face were twisted around each other and fastened behind her head, with the remainder of her hair left to fall free.  It was attractive, but not formal or uncomfortable in any way.  E’lin hoped that this would be the tone of the entire meal with her family-to-be.  The Bride had gleaned from the Maids’ conversation that Lord Kehrol’s two older sisters and their Husbandmen would also be attending this evening for the dual purpose of honoring, and discovering more about, their brother’s prospective Wife.  She had been supplied with their names, although they slipped from her mind like ice melting in the sun.  And then all of her new acquaintances among the servants left the young girl alone again, briefly, for it was not their place to escort a guest to the dining room; that was the job of a Maid of the Residence who was undoubtedly as thoroughly professional as the former and did not keep E’lin waiting for over two or three minutes.  Grand High Lady Ana’i’s home ran like clockwork.