May 18--French, Court Train. Golden silk, beaded and embroidered, dragged at her shoulders, holding her back, keeping her steps slow and deliberate. Why did she have to do this? She wasn't meant for court. She didn't have the subterfuge or the politics to survive the dramas and intrigues. She cared nothing for fashion or who was descended from whom. Yet here she stood trussed up in satin, silk and whalebone like a sacrificial lamb pacing down the long hall to be presented to a kind she wouldn't recognize if he came up and slapped her.
Time to get a move on, I'm burning daylight. Plus it's Friday so I've got yoga & knitting tonight. And I even remembered to put another Tae Kwon Do belt into Beverly for Lyn to use at yoga. Go me! Are you going to play outside today too?