Gerald dropped the Princess's hand, "My apologies, your Highness, I just thought maybe she should get out of her travelling gown."

Anastasia looked at her mother, she wasn't sure what was worse. Trying to be a lady in front of people who knew what a lady looked like or being herself in front of them. The more she thought about it, the more she disliked the thought of either. She smiled at her mother and nodded, "He is probably right... I can feel the dust on me and I fear I'm covering you in it," she laughed lightly, it was strange talking simply to the Queen, "But... I haven't got anything to wear... This is actually my finest dress."

The thought of walking through a group of ladies with their fine gowns in the dusty dress she wore, terrified her. They'd laugh, would they not. What kind of Princess dressed like she did. She was positive that they wouldn't have dresses on hand that would fit her. After all, she had only been there a short period of time and previous to her arrival they would have had no way to gather her measurements. The thought of going to the feast in what she wore started to appear a reality. Maybe she wouldn't mind, had it not been of the snobbish way she had seen Lords and Ladies act. She didn't think her being a Princess would save her from that...