Freya hoped Caoimhe knew what she was doing. Diado zipped around her, making final adjustments to the robes, and confirming the princess was perfect for her arrival on the Rhimodian homeworld.
Bianca, the Imperial Governess, followed Diado. "Be careful with that," she said, bumping the dresser's arm. "She needs to be able to move."
"Of course. But it also has to stay in place," Diado replied as he clipped in one of the fasteners.
"Move, yes. Run and do flips? No. She needs to be comfortable."
"A member of royalty is never comfortable," Diado snapped. "Perfection is nevercomfortable."
Bianca pushed her lips together, and if she had lasers in her eyes, Diado would have been diced on the floor.
Her attention returned to Caoimhe. "Princess, you must be cautious. Remember, the presentation would be wasted. They are very logical and literal beings. Smiles would mean nothing to them. You cannot lead anything with your emotions," Bianca said.
Freya glanced at Eleanor, and the younger princess rolled her eyes. But girls always rolled their eyes at their governesses, didn't they?
Bianca was the closest thing to a mother that the princesses had. As their late mother's Lady in Waiting, she treated the girls like her own, maybe even better. Freya wasn’t sure, but sometimes it felt like Bianca tried very hard to be a perfect parent to the girls. Kind when needed. Strict when necessary.
And a walking tome of every Terran tradition and protocol there was, or so it seemed.
Something that Freya felt she had to live up to in a way, as Caoimhe’s Lady in Waiting.
Freya stepped behind Bianca and made silly faces at Caoimhe over Bianca’s shoulder. It was apparent that Bianca's lecturing--while probably with good intentions--made Caoimhe nervous. She was starting to wring her hands.
When they made eye contact, Caoimhe's expression softened.
Freya exaggerated her eye rolls and stuck out her tongue. Anything she could think of.
"And another thing," Bianca said and turned.
Smacked into Freya.
Her eyebrow raised. "Are you mocking me?"
Freya grinned. "I would never do such a thing."
"Of course, you wouldn't," Bianca said. Her gaze darted from Freya to Caoimhe and back. "No, you girls never would do such a thing." Her words were thick with sarcasm.
Caoimhe nodded, her expression returning to a proper, somber state.
Freya stepped behind Caoimhe, her skirts swooshing as she walked.
Caoimhe’s gaze cut to Veta.
“Do I amuse you, Veta?” Caoimhe asked.
“This whole mission amuses me,” Veta replied, letting go of the new blade she wore on her hip.
“Why? Do you not want peace?” Caoimhe asked.
“Perhaps she thinks her job will be in jeopardy if peace is reached,” Diado said as he fluffed Caoimhe’s dress.
“I don’t worry about that,” Veta replied, glaring at him. “I wonder if you do?”
Diado paused, his hand to his chest, and stalked away.
Veta smiled again.
“That wasn’t nice.” Eleanor's own dress, almost as fancy as Caoimhe’s, swished as she walked.
