A/N: i'm so sorry!! this chappie is uber short and it's a filler, but i felt like i HAD to get something up there!! please forgive me! i'm sorry!!

"MISS LANEY!!!"

I awoke with a start, opening my bleary eyes to the fuzzy sight of a figure looming above me at the end of my bed. I reacted in the way that any intelligent young woman would. "Huh?? Wha??"

A disapproving maid stood at the foot of the bed, staring down her nose at me. Somehow I had the sense that she would get along splendidly with my tenth grade math teacher. "I suggest you get dressed. Miss Swann has requested that you join her in her chamber for dinner."

"Thank you," I replied automatically, thinking ruefully, Time to dine with the diet Nazi.

The maid took her leave, and I was faced with a daunting closet full of nothing but corsets and dresses. Cue ominous music, I thought to myself. Don't get me wrong—I wore dresses sometimes, but I was (and still am) inherently afraid of them, along with a few other clothing items like mini-skirts, leggings, tube tops, and slinky strapless black dresses.

"Clothing, clothing, clothing, but not a bra to wear," I murmured quietly, standing flamingo style in my chemise and staring at the enormous closet, blinking like a deer in headlights. I did not look forward to living without bras, nor was I all too keen on the idea of having to wear a corset for the rest of my life.

So I ignored the nagging voice at the back of my head that told me Elizabeth would find out if I wasn't wearing a corset, picking up the bra I had been wearing before my fitting and deciding to use that instead. I turned my analytical gaze once more upon my closet, carefully scrutinizing any seemingly negligible detail on every dress.

Finally, after several long minutes of close inspection, a found a dress that met my standards. The neckline was relatively modest, the square collar of what I guessed was a Mantua. The dress was light silk, a prettily faded red color, tight across the chest and billowy from the waist down. There was a small amount of reserved lace near the bottom and the sleeves were three quarter ones. All in all I liked it, even if it was a clothing item genuinely from the 17th century and should have been brought to 2006 to be put in some obscure museum off in the middle of nowhere.

So I slipped on the dress, feeling as though I had stolen it from a museum, and headed off to Elizabeth's room, just barely remembering to put on shoes. My absentmindedness was rather astounding. And then I remembered that I didn't know where Elizabeth's room was. How very characteristic of me.

"Cara whose name is obviously not Cara!" I heard someone stage-whisper from behind me. A door somewhat down the hallway was open a crack, light peeking through from the bottom, and a slender, manicured hand that I recognized as Elizabeth's beckoned. It was slightly creepy seeing Elizabeth's hand poking out from a door, as it looked as if it were detached from the rest of the body, but I bounded over to the room and knocked politely on the door. The door opened all the way and Elizabeth gave what I called her 'publicity' smile, showing several pearly white teeth, which was rather odd as it was the 17th century, but I figured I'd best not ask for diplomacy's sake. "Come in," she said graciously.

"Why thank you," I replied, stepping lightly through the door, which she closed gently behind me. I heard the lock click firmly into place, but did not turn around to check, a feeling of mounting dread rising within me.

The smile on her face instantly disappeared, turning to a berating, narrow-eyed gaze. "You're not wearing a corset."

Damn, I thought sourly. "Am I that fat?" I gibed laughingly, grinning and hoping that the answer would be a resounding 'no.'

"No." I sighed in relief at the simple statement. "But it is actually quite noticeable," she commented shrewdly. My face fell.

"Great," I deadpanned flatly. "How do you breathe with that godforsaken thing on?"

Elizabeth flashed me a brilliant, albeit a tad bit sardonic smile. "You don't!"

"You're so helpful," I muttered sarcastically under my breath, rolling my eyes a tiny bit.

She noticed my not-so-ladylike rolling of the eyes. "We'll have to work on that. Anyway, I'm going to teach you the basics of etiquette, and in a day or so we'll have a ball in your honor," she informed me matter-of-factly, and the very thought made me blanch in sheer terror, the blood draining rapidly from my face. She ignored my obvious alarm and said with determined cheerfulness, "Let's begin." She smiled, looking slightly sadistic and rather cat-like. "This should be fun."