Soon enough, Lyra's hands ceased to move and she stepped back to admire her artistry. "I'm done, Lady." She said, smiling as if nothing happened, "Does it please you?"

Melantriche let her hands wander to the braids tied tightly to her head, but barely touched them, as she were afraid they would unravel at the slightest sensation. She had ornamented the knots with small white lotuses, and her braids were clasped secure with saffron ribbons. As Lyra had spoke of her opinion of true strength, Melantriche had barely even paid attention to what she was doing in the mirror. Now she could safely say that Lyra was indeed a master artisan.

"Oh, Lyra..." Melantriche breathed, feeling tears coming. It was the first time she ever truly felt the slightest beautiful.

At her lady's reaction, Lyra chortled with pride. "There'll be no need for makeup, Lady. You're rosy enough as it is."

"Thank you!" Melantriche stood to hug her, but the sound of the door opening restrained her. She looked up to see her mother, Leida, enter the room.

Leida was a goddess of a woman. She was a tall and graceful beast. Her skin was as fair as abalone, and her blue eyes twinkled like sapphires. Her hair was black, almost as black as Melantriche's. While she had already been clothed in a fine chiton, her hair had not yet been done. It fell in a long, dark wavy river all the way to her upper thighs. She stood in the doorway, tall and authoritative. After a long moment of silence, she walked stiffly towards Melantriche and examined her. Melantriche resisted squirming beneath her cold assertive gaze. What seemed years later, Leida scoffed.

"You are still not ready."

Another slave girl stood in the doorway. She was so quiet and meek that no one had noticed her until Leida had her come forward. In her hands she carried an elegant wooden jewelry box. She opened it for Leida to reveal the glittering of countless polished pins, rings, and necklaces.

Melantriche gasped. Her mother's jewelry was very important to her. It felt like a milestone of affection had been placed upon her as Leida began to decorate her.

It was barely a moment before Leida had picked a selection of the ornaments her daughter would wear; she was a very prominent fashionista.

There were 10 pieces of jewelry in her hand: a necklace of gold and ivory beads, a pair of emerald earrings, and 7 gold pins in the shape of butterfly wings.

Melantriche sweated. Ornaments of metal and jewels were more for the elder women than they were for the latter, who preferred flowers and ribbons. If she arrived to Brauron with all 4, maybe it would make her look too flashy. Even more so, she felt it made her seem much older than she was. But she could not simply reject her mother's approach. Besides, she'd never worn real jewels before. It would be nice to see what they looked like on her. Perhaps they would make her prettier.

Leida adorned Melantriche herself, expertly clasping the pins where they looked best. When she was finished, she pushed her daughter to the mirror. Melantriche found it hard to breathe. Forget what she thought about being too flashy; Mother was as much an artist as Lyra was! The earrings and the necklace matched her chiton perfectly. Monarchy had become a thing of the past, but at that moment she truly felt like a real princess.

Leida gave a satisfied nod, her face loosening it's usual tightness for a moment, then quickly rewinded as she turned to face Lyra.

"I want my hair styled too. It must be crimped and plaited. Quickly, before the ceremony."

"Yes, My Lady." Lyra spoke softly, her eyes meeting the floor with an uncharacteristic meekness. Leida humphed, then made a loud march for the door. Lyra and the other slave girl followed quickly behind, leaving Melantriche alone.

She barely had time to admire herself further before the door opened yet again, this time to reveal her father. He was a plump older man, soft and pleasant looking with rosy cheeks behind his chestnut beard. Melantriche's father, Lord Adrianis, was a righteous and kind man. He was noble and firm, treated his slaves kindly, and was totally obedient to the gods. He had hardly any concubines to entertain him, but then again, what beauty could match the beauty of Leida, his lovely wife? Only his daughter, whom he loved dearly. In the olden times of the Greeks, baby girls were not favorable and were often cast aside: sold away, uncared for or simply abandoned in jars at their birth, left out on a roadside for some other poor soul to find and take in, if the babe was lucky. That way, the neglectful parents would not earn the ire of the Furies. This was how the men treated their women, especially in Athens, where women had no rights, no education, and were mostly kept indoors. That was, until today.

Melantriche could never have asked for a more wonderful father. She thanked the gods every day for him and his kind ways.

Melantriche immediately stood and smiled at him, and he chortled cheerfully as they embraced.

"Oh, how beautiful you look, my little Melantriche!"

Melantriche's cheeks felt warm. "Thank you, Father." Adrianis had also took liberties to dress up. His usual attire had been replaced with a comfortable looking, yet well decorated red and blue robe, and he wore 2 thick amulets of gold around his neck. His beard had been combed and heavily perfumed; Melantriche could smell the crushed spices as she hugged him. Indeed, It seemed to gleam a slight red in the fading sunset.

He was followed by yet another slave girl who brandished a wide wooden box in her arms. Melantriche could make a guess on what was inside of it.

"Yes, my dear. You look so very beautiful, but you are still missing a piece." Adrianis said as he opened the box. As Melantriche suspected,

her bearskin was folded inside. They had done a swell job of refurbishing it; it smelled sweet and had a boastful sheen to it, as if it were new. Adrianis pulled it gently by the corners. It fell from the box with an effortless grace, and before she knew it, Melantriche was draped as an arkteia. Her father fastened it around her lovingly. "Now," he spoke proudly, as he patted her around the head, "You truly look like a she-bear."

Suddenly, he cringed back in mock fear. "Oh no! It's a bear! Gods, help me!"

Melantriche giggled. Really, her father had no patience for the solemn. Instead of sitting through a dull council meeting, he would have rather been in the theater being entertained by a comedy.

Adrianis sighed, exasperated. "Ah, but we've no time to waste! The ceremony shall be starting soon, and we must hurry." Leading his daughter by the hand, Adrianis made his way quickly through the hall and down the stairs to the front entrance, where both Leida and Lyra waited. Melantriche took time to observe that Lyra had done her job well yet again; her mother's hair looked superb tonight. Several guards waited outside to escort them, and Melantriche could see many people were headed in crowds towards the gate. The evening was coming close, and a small chill rippled suddenly through the warm air. A slave draped an extravagantly colorful peplos on her mother's shoulders, and she followed in suit of her father towards the carriage.

"We shall be going now. Come now, hurry."

Melantriche glances at Lyra, and she gave an excited, albeit tired grin. "Have fun! Do your best, Lady."

With a deep breath of excitement, Melantriche tightened her bearskin around herself and stepped through the door.