Chapter 3: The Banquet
“WHERE have you been, Lady Yuura!? I told you to be back by the sundown bell!”
“I-I’m sorry, Leila…”
As Yura stammered through her apology, she noted the lack of sunlight out a nearby window and the concerned ladies-in-waiting holding boxes. Leila huffed in irritation before marching Yura away.
There was something in the room Yura had not seen before. Leila pulled her inside and sat her in the same chair as earlier. Bending over as if she were going to take off Yura’s shoes, Leila’s eyes suddenly spun.
“…What in the world is this?”
Following Leila’s gaze, Yura finally noticed it too. The hem of her dainty skirt had become bright red.
Where did that happen…?
“I-it’s okay, Leila. It’s not dirty…”
“You don’t call this dirty?” Leila cried out, silencing Yura’s worthless excuses.
She went to undo the hooks in the back. Yura tried to steady her breathing and slump her shoulders at Leila’s harsh movements.
“I had planned to have you bathe again before you changed, but we’re out of time…” Leila mumbled, discouraged.
“…Once a day is enough for me…”
Leila stripped Yura to her undergarments and quickly stretched out her slender arms. The other ladies-in-waiting rushed over and opened the boxes they caried. Leila peered inside.
“Leila, we haven’t much time…”
Yura suddenly realized their clothes were completely different from before. The navy-blue dresses they had been wearing were all replaced with white ones.
“Leila?”
Leila, who was busy combing Yura’s hair, suddenly lifted her head and looked at her. The version of her in the mirror looked much cheerier than she had before.
It had a modest design, but the neat dress was long and perfectly fit her tall form. The collar held a refined air about it.
Yura looked upon Leila and smiled. “It’s so lovely! That really looks good on you, Leila.”
Leila’s hand stopped. She looked a bit surprised but smiled at Yura in the mirror.
“What gracious words…but I am afraid this is not for me.”
Saying that, she plunged both hands into the box. With great effort, she pulled something billowy out. With a wide grin, she held it out for Yura.
“How about something like this?”
Yura was speechless.
That wasn’t “pretty much a dress,” it was the genuine article. A luxurious and flowing dress.
The pale pink fabric was gathered into fine pleats. The waist was adorned with roses of the same fabric. It certainly was lovely. Leila held the dress with the delicate lace embroidery up to Yura.
“N-No, I could never wear that!”
“You do not care for it?”
Leila handed it to the ladies who were standing by, and pulled out yet another dress.
This one was golden with blue lilies scattered throughout.
It was then that Yura realized all the boxes they’d been holding were filled with dresses.
Hastily, Leila had already unfurled another dress and held it out to Yura. Yura spun around, ready to run.
Leila kept covering Yura with dresses.
Beige. Red. Yellow and white.
Not this one. Not that one, either. Dresses flew through the air, one after the next. Finally, Leila pushed the original pink dress on Yura and shouted gleefully.
“Just as I thought! This one truly suits you best, Lady Yuura!”
“I-If you say so…”
True hell awaited her then. She was forced into her first too-tight corset in her life. It was pulled so tight, her face began turning blue.
I-I’m dying! Help me!
She could barely breathe, let alone speak, as two ladies pulled the massive dress over her head, their flurry of movements dazing her. Her organs were being squished from top to bottom by the tightened material. It was so hard to breathe, she feared she’d die before they finished.
Yura cried out, being handled rougher than a mannequin.
They spun her about, spraying her with perfume from an earthenware sprayer. Meanwhile, another hand combed her hair, while still another put on her shoes and another placed jewels on her…
Just when Yura felt her soul leave her body, Leila finally stopped moving around her and spoke.
“I apologize for having kept you waiting. Your mirror,” Leila said, pushing one toward Yura.
Yura absently stood up while still feeling on the verge of collapse.
Inside the mirror stood a blank-faced vision.
Wearing that first dress and with her hair beautifully done up.
But still, a mannequin.
The clothes didn’t suit Yura’s incredibly skinny figure at all.
It doesn’t look right at all…
She had intended to laugh at herself in self-deprecation, but instead, her lips twisted the way they did when she was trying not to cry.
Perhaps it was because of all the competing fragrances, but she began to feel very ill.
To top it off, she hadn’t eaten and was beginning to feel dizzy.
“…It suits you well, Lady Yuura,” Leila whispered, overcome with emotion.
Yura grabbed her chest and collapsed into the chair.
I-I can manage if it’s just thirty minutes or so…
“I’m certain His Majesty will be pleased.”
Yura weakly looked up.
Who exactly is “His Majesty” anyway…?
“…Hey, just what’s going on tonight anyway?” Yura asked in a half-hearted voice.
Leila smiled as she poured water into a glass. As soon as Yuura drank it, she broke into a coughing fit.
“It’s a coronation banquet, Lady Yuura.”
“Coronation…?”
“A banquet to celebrate the crowning of His Majesty, the Emperor of Tolkinia.”
Yura shook her head. She hadn’t understood a word.
“An escort will arrive in short order to take you to the hall prepared for the celebration.”
Leila suddenly stopped talking and smiled.
At that moment, as if on cue, a reserved knock came at the door behind Yura.
Yura turned when she heard the knock and saw two men clad in magnificent attire outside the door. They appeared to be elder clergymen. They wore robes reminiscent of priests and smiled in an almost unsettlingly polite manner.
“We have come to escort thee to the banquet hall.”
“O-Okay…?”