Seraphina walked through the castles corridors on her way to check on the construction of her dress in the castles sewing rooms, where all the castles clothes, servants and guards’ livery, tapestries and banners were made. In here lived a dozen or so women all chosen for their skill with the needle or on the loom, some had been chosen by her mother and a few had been finds of her own. The ladies position within the court was one that many envied, they received small trinkets and gifts from time to time, got to live within the castle and as long as they were still available to sew they could expect a handsome dowry. Inspecting the room with her ladies Seraphina oversaw the making of the new uniforms for the servants however the thing she was most interested in was the creation of her dress, which she had designed herself.

With a smile Seraphina saw that it was finally ready and not a moment too soon, the dress hung on the mannequin based on Seraphina’s figure. The dress was made with many layers of black silk, each so delicate and light it weighed no more than a maidens sigh, each layer was made to look like thick, downy feathers. The corset was made ebony silk-satin and embroidered with gold thread which was again sewn to resemble a feathered breast; this was enhanced by real midnight feathers that would rise to her cleavage, sweep round to her back and burst into a pair of elaborate wings. The wings were attached seamlessly to her shoulder blades and were hung with ropes of black pearls and bright onyx. To finish the whole ensemble was the mask she was to wear which would finish her outfit with a crowning glory. Seraphina was full of eager anticipation about tonight, since she had to take on the responsibility of keeping the household running this left less time for frivolity than she would have liked.

Finally tearing her eyes away from her beautiful dark shimmering creation she ordered it to be brought up to her chambers in time for her to make ready for that nights celebrations. Then turning her back on the seam-mistresses Seraphina made her way with her ladies to the kitchen to check on preparations, then to the ball room to see that everything was in order. Both were up to standard, the first was full of culinary masterpieces that were as beautiful as they were delicious and the second full of glittering candles, polished silver and crystal and all lightly scented by the vases of fresh flowers that lined the walls.

With these duties accounted for Seraphina made her way back to her chambers, normally she would have other duties to attend but on this occasion she was delegating these tasks out. However it was still too early in the day to begin preparations for the ball so instead her ladies arranged her seat by the window which had been flung open to allow the faint sunshine in. Seraphina’s chair was by far the superior, larger with a plush seat and an almost throne like appearance. Then beside her on lower stools her ladies sat, one picking up her embroidery, mirroring Seraphina, the other began reading the guest list for tonight while the third gently plucked a small harp for their pleasure.

For a while they sat in companionable silence with the fresh breeze full upon their faces, Seraphina smiling each time the playful zephyr would gently tug a stray lock of her silver hair. The sun was smiling weakly down upon them, this was the first truly nice day they had seen in a while and it gladdened her heart. Slowly she worked on the delicate threading; she was using an expensive golden thread as she worked on making the insignia of De’Vance for the captain of the guard.

Suddenly a lively melody filled the air, starting so suddenly Seraphina could not help the small gasp that escaped her and to her chagrin she had pricked her finger in shock and three crimson drops had fallen on her embroidery. Pale brows knitting together Seraphina stood swiftly, entrusting that her ladies would retrieve her fallen work as she marched to the balcony and looked out to see who disturbed the peace. There was no denying that the music was beautiful and subtle, the best she had heard in a while, with the fiddle there was always the odd note that seem to squeal rather than sing however this was not the case for this musician, every note was clear and bright. However she was in no mood to admire the craft in his song as her finger smarted and she thought of her careful work which had been ruined.

Face cross and violet eyes blazing Seraphina looked over the balcony and beheld the minstrel of this morning outside her window and it was clear that he had purposely placed himself there. For what reason she could not fathom although it seemed clear to her that he was the type to enjoy rustling feathers. Suddenly the wind gave a great tug that swept her skirts around her, like a banner of blue and to make things worse it wrenched her hair loose of its bonds, it spun out like the tail of a star, glittering in the pale sunlight. Crying out in dismay Seraphina attempted to maintain some control of her windswept hair, not noticing that the wind had stolen her embroidered lace handkerchief; it was taken like a petal in the wind. Again turning blazing eyes on him, although she knew it wasn’t truly his fault, Seraphina marched back inside, hair billowing out behind her until the glass pained doors shut behind her.