Diana winced as the servant girl unzipped her red tea-length dress for her. The dress glided to the floor like a stray ember, revealing Diana's muscular and tight-fitting body.
"You have such beautiful skin mistress!" the servant girl squeaked as she ran across a patch of scar tissue.
"A mistress's skin is much less rigid and scarred," Diana said as the servant girl unbuttoned her bra next. "This is the skin of a warrior. Refer to me as such." The bra fell like spent kindling and Diana could feel the servant girl's fingers tremble for a moment as they looped around the straps of her panties.
"Yes ma'am," the young servant murmured.
Diana stepped out of her panties like they were a pile of burnt branches and turned to face the mirror. Diana nervously avoided her naked form in the three-way mirror. Meanwhile, the servant girl stepped to the side and opened a large wooden box sitting on a gilded nightstand. The expensive furniture seemed to ignite the otherwise dim stone chamber.
Diana cupped her breasts by crossing her arms, nervously rubbing her elbows and tapping her foot. "Hurry please," she blurted.
"Yes ma'am," the servant girl robotically responded, pulling her hands out of the box, the latter now holding two large clumps of a sickly gray powder Diana knew was ash. The servant girl walked towards Diana and slapped the clumps of ash against her shoulder blades, sliding them downwards in a zig-zagging motion. Bites and blooms careened to the floor as tbe servant girl rubbed the ashes into Diana's fair skin. "May the blessings of thine fallen kin cleanse thee of all thine sins," the servant girl recited.
Her words sent a shiver through Diana's spine.
About an hour passed of the servant girl collecting clumps of ash, roughly rubbing it on Diana's skin–especially over her scars–and reciting the same phrase each time.
Now Diana's skin was completely grey, her only outstanding features being her blonde cropped hair and sky blue eyes. She found it comforting. With the scars and muscles thoroughly hidden, she could finally stand to look at herself in the mirror. She thought she looked like a porcelain doll before it had been painted.
The servant girl released a heavy sigh, her apron covered in grey blotches. "You're almost ready," she said as she returned to the nightstand and opened its compartment. She pulled out a helmet that Diana always thought looked strange.
The steel of the plate helm was shaped in a fashion that would completely cover the scalp and eyes, but intentionally left the mouth and ears exposed.
Ther servant girl raised the helmet above Diana and slowly placed it atop her head.
Diana's heart skipped a beat when her vision was eclipsed in darkness.
"Perfect!" the servant exclaimed.
Diana heard a few clapping noises before her fingers felt entwined. Next she felt her arm being pulled and her feet clumsily followed in that direction.
"The family council will think you're perfect!" the servant girl squeed, the echo of her shoes out-booming the pit-pat of Diana's feet. "Hurry mistress!"
Suddenly the chaotic stomping ceased and Diana could feel her hands being guided to a smooth surface.
"Good luck!" the servant girl whispered, the echoes of her steps fading into the distance.
Diana knew the rest; she pushed open the large granite door and stepped into the Dach Family Council Chambers where power awaited her.