Early Summer, Year of the Great Kingdom 592
Over the following three weeks, Dame Neva drilled Telma in the 'rights and rules' of courtly behavior. She learned how to curtsy properly, how to walk gracefully, how to hold her head high – yet keep her gaze soft and feminine, how to recognize the rank and station of the kingdom's aristocrats, and how she should address each of them. Once she had memorized all of these, Neva directed her attention to the young lady's clothes.
"Gormund… this is unsatisfactory, even for you!" she scolded the farmer as she tugged at the crude dress the girl wore. Indeed, Telma's rough linen dress was unevenly cut and no longer fit the girl properly. Besides her impressive height, Telma had reached the age when a girl's body begins to transform into that a woman. Her cuves had begun to develop and her hips were already widening. Combined with the poor quality of her dress' construction, the young woman was quickly beginning to look as disheveled and unkept as her father.
Gormund flinched with embarrassment. He had always wanted to give his "little girl" the very best of all things, but he was limited by the small number of rupees that he could earn from his potatoes and could not keep up with his daughter's rapid changes. "If, my dame, has any suggestions, am I of course grateful for them." He muttered, nervously wiping the sweat from his brow as he tried to think of how he could afford a new dress for her.
Dame Neva -as she always did- studied Telma very closely and even reached her hands out to rudely poke and grasp at the young woman's body. She shivered, and tried to back away, but a firm "Stop!" from the tutor rooted her in place. The Sheikah next moved to Telma's face, and gently traced her fingers over the girl's nose, jawline, and cheekbones. "It would seem, the Goddess has given two blessings to your child, Gormund. She is going to be a great beauty." She said quietly, finally pulling her hands back and letting the girl sit down again.
The elder returned to her seat beside the table and held her own chin, in deep thought. Telma's father moved his chair to sit beside his daughter and wrapped one arm around her shoulders. They didn't like it when Neva went silent like this, it usually meant she was going to reveal something terrible to them. After several quiet minutes, and a few more sips of wine, she finally spoke again.
"There is going to be a ceremony soon at the citadel, Gormund. Lord Aryn will be getting married and all of his vassals are invited. I think you should bring Telma with you." She said flatly. The farmer and his daughter were both stunned. The girl shivered at the idea of visiting the fortress – it had been dangerous enough to reveal herself to the other farmers in the area, but to be seen by the soldiers… and the Lord… would anything happen to her?
Gormund shared her concerns, and quickly objected, saying that Telma would surely be imprisoned by his lordship as 'an invader'. The Dame turned an ugly scowl to him and answered, "If it happens, Gormund, whose fault will it be? You have known all these years what she was – yet you have made no effort whatsoever to inform the Lord of her presence!" The young woman began to tremble again with fear, even as her papa tried to squeeze her shoulders tightly. "Please, my dame, do not do this! What could a father do? I love my daughter… I couldn't bear to see her locked in the tower. She harms no one here!" he plead, with small tears forming in his eyes.
Neva wrinkled her nose and waved a hand at him. "I do not think it will come to that." She answered, "Lord Aryn is a fierce man, but he has a tender heart beneath his armor – and it will be his wedding day, he will be inclined for temperance and mercy. But you must do this Gormund, you cannot hide her any longer. Besides… you may even find a husband for her there."
Both of them looked up at her in surprise. "H-husband?" Telma echoed, while her father shook his head, "No… no… she is much too young for that now – and none of the men there would want her!" he barked, making his daughter flinch and lightly sob. "Oh, honey I didn't mean it like that." He tried to soothe, kissing her forehead, "I just mean… the men around here… they would be much quicker to hate than to love."
Here, the Dame interjected with her plan, "That is where you might be fortunate Gormund. Lord Aryn has many deep ties with the knights and lords of the Eastern Kingdoms. Many of them will be attending the wedding. It is doubtless that they will be bringing their own sons and daughters. Nobles often use such occasions to make 'matches' of their own -even years in advance. You may very well find some eastern 'King's man' that would see Telma for the beauty that she is, rather than the 'Gerudo invader' that others would fear her to be."
He continued shaking his head and sputtering objections, but the Dame was coming to the end of her final session and was not interested in any arguments. "I will have a gown made for her – watch for my tailor. I may even decide to give you something to wear Gormund. Bring her! And present her to Lord Aryn! Or I will reveal your little secret to him myself. How would you prefer his lordship to learn of her? By seeing the beautiful, bronze maiden for himself? Or hearing of the secret Gerudo invader from his Intelligence Officer? The choice is yours."