Christine smiled, trying to quell the intimidation she felt from this stern woman. "I don't need a handmaiden." She said quietly.

"You will when you start dressing like a proper duchess." Said Lady Giry, her eyes searched over Christine. She suddenly noticed every patch and every stain in her simple brown dress.

"She will dress how she wills." Erik insisted, stepping forward. He was tall, as tall as the butcher in the village she had bought her meat from, and he had his door frame specially built so that he would not knock his head on it.

One would think that the Duke's thin frame would downplay his height, but something in the way he held himself made it known that he would take down any man. He loomed over Lady Giry.

She was not impressed. "She is a duchess, she needs to dress her station. You want the servants to respect her? She will have to play the part. She needs a new wardrobe, a handmaiden, preferably two, and your permission for authority."

Christine stayed silent, she hadn't considered such a thing. But she realized that what Lady Giry said was true, so when Erik stepped forward again no doubt to argue some more, she put her hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"She is right." She took a risk. "And you know it."

His hand went up and wove its way into his black hair. She heard him breathing heavily. "Yes, of course. A handmaiden, a new wardrobe. Giry?"

"I will take care of it, if you wish." She said coolly.

His hand came down and he stormed past Lady Giry out of the room.

Christine stood, slightly stunned. Lady Giry seemed less affected.

"It will not be the last time you will see him loose his temper." She said dryly, stepping into the room. "He doesn't like it when people force him or someone he cares for to do something he believes they do not want."

Christine blinked. "Oh. I thought he was angry from the cost." She said. "I don't want to be an expense to him-"

Lady Giry scoffed and waved her hand to cut Christine off. "He is not worried about money. Don't short change yourself. You are his wife, he is supposed to provide for you. If he hadn't wanted to provide for a common girl than he shouldn't have married one." Then she smiled, a little guiltily. "Though, you are common no longer, I assure you."

Christine smiled. "I see what you mean." She looked out the window to see the position of the sun, it was an hour until sunset. "What are we going to do about my wardrobe? I've never had to worry about mine before." She admitted.

"Nothing, right now." Madame Giry said quickly. "We can begin that tomorrow. For now, I think it best for you to rest. I'l have Meg bring you up a super."


Meg turned out to be a cheerful blonde girl probably about five years younger than Christine, bringing a tray of pastries, white bread, milk and a little plate of butter. She introduced herself as Marguerite, "But call me Meg, everyone does." She explained as she set the tray on the bed where Christine sat. She stood back, watching Christine eat.

Christine found that she liked her. Behind the cheerfulness she sensed a practical hardness that Christine knew very well. It was the same thing Christine saw when she looked at herself.

"Your mother doesn't seem to like me very much." Christine commented, buttering some of the bread.

Meg laughed. "Don't take it personally. She's like that with everyone. But she likes you, I can tell. Otherwise she wouldn't have sent me up here."

Christine relaxed.

Meg hesitated for a moment, and then said in a low voice. "Is it really true that you ran an inn before you married Duke Erik?" She whispered. "I've heard the rumors, but-"

"It's true." Christine said, there was no use in trying to say differently. She almost took a bite from her bread, but thought better of it. "I was taken in by Lady Valerius, she taught me to be a lady."

Meg nodded. Christine dug into her bread, it was very good, but not as rich as the bread she was used to. She noticed Meg still waited at her bedside, she swallowed.

"Do you want anything?" She said.

Meg jumped a little, her smile weakening a little. "Well, your Grace. I was wondering, mother says you need a handmaiden. I act as a handmaiden for any noble ladies that visit our castle. I have the most experience. If you could consider..."

It suddenly occurred to Christine that she had quite a lot of power now. Enough that people would try their hardest to be kind to her so that they might share in it. She didn't think Meg had bad intentions, but there were certainly many that would. It was a responsibility that came with being in a position of power.

Christine set down her bread thinking, she didn't want to make any final decisions at the moment. "We'll see." She finally said. "I will consider it, your mother and I will discuss my options."

She was proud of her answer. Meg seemed to take it well, curtsying before leaving the room. Christine dug into her food tray with relish, eating in the quickly darkening room.


After eating breakfast the next morning. (Served by Meg again.) Lady Giry strode in and informed Christine that the castle clothier was coming to plan Christine's new ensemble.

The clothier, a middle aged woman with a growing middle and a confident stride, had strode in, and pulled every article of clothing Christine owned and threw it on the bed and viewed it with a critical eye. "This is all you have?" She sputtered, looking at the two dresses (Christine wore the third), three shifts and various head cloths that Christine owned. "Two gowns only fit for beggars, one fit for a maid, three cotton" She spat that word out. "not even linen, but cotton shifts, and these-" she paused to find an appropriately insulting word for the head cloths. "scraps of cloth?"

Christine's voice was quiet. "I had no need for a rich wardrobe before I came here." She said softly.

"Rich!" The clothier laughed, her voice hitting a high note that Christine suspected could not be reached in anything but the most strenuous of moments. "Rich! You're not fit to meet a farm hand, let alone any Tom, Dick, or Harry that might be strolling up the castle with a title." Her hands went up to her face and she groaned. "We don't even have any old clothes to fill in the difference, new Lord. New land. No old clothes to alter!"

Christine felt her face burning. "Is it truly so bad?" She asked quietly.

"Goodness yes child." The clothier turned to snap at Christine. "You've got to dress your station, you understand? You've enough disadvantages as is and you don't have a single proper thing to wear-" She took a deep breath. "We'll be sewing like the wind, we will. No matter."

"What will she need?" Madame Giry asked, looking as emotionless as ever.

"Everything!" The clothier shrieked. "New dresses, coats, I-" She stopped, taking a few moments to calm herself. "At least six under dresses, four overdresses, seven linen shifts, silk head clothes, a court gown make of silk, a coat, a caplet and-" She saw Christine's wooden clogs peaking out from under her dress. "two pairs of shoes." She snapped. "It'll take a week to have the first dress finished on top of our other work, and even longer for everything else. The shoes the cobbler can manage..."

She continued to mutter when and where everything would have to be produced. Lady Giry gave her own addition. "We can hire people from the village to help with the sewing. The regular sewing, not Lady Black's clothing." She added when the clothiers mouth opened to protest. "Now quiet yourself. I will send a messenger for help from the village, you will take Christine to be fitted."

I keep on typing Madame Giry, then deleting and retyping Lady Giry. If you catch any mistakes let me know. :)