A/N: Hey, everyone! Sorry this chapter took a bit longer than expected, but my mom decided I needed to come out of my room yesterday and today. :P But I did work hard on it while I could, so I hope you enjoy!

--

The next morning dawned white and cold—the heavens had opened during the night and coated every flat surface with a thick mantle of snow. Enna sighed resignedly, as she'd just gotten used to the bare grass again, but the castle was in an excited uproar all around her—the much-anticipated Great Snow Dance was to be held that night! The cooks prepared a late, light lunch, for the supper feast would be like nothing Enna had ever experienced (or so she was told), held in a forest glade, bathed in the light of the moon and flickering braziers pushed into the frozen ground. There was to be dancing, games, good food, warm wine, and, best of all, stories, told by master raconteurs and ambient music. It was the highlight of the winter social calendar, far surpassing any balls or grand feasts held that season. Rumor had it that the four monarchs had commanded it to be the finest celebration ever seen in Narnia, for a distinguished ambassador from the faraway country of Nymru had arrived just the night before, seeking out Queen Susan's favor for his king.

"Milady, it is time to prepare for the feast."

Enna looked up from the book she'd been reading to Aramir, brow furrowed. "But Naeomi, it's scarcely four o'clock. The feast doesn't begin until eight."

The dryad bowed respectively to Aramir. "Milady is already late."

"Why? What is there to do besides don a cloak?"

"Oh, milady!" Naeomi was clearly scandalized, and she flung herself down to kneel at Enna's side. "Milady, there is much to do! We must wash milady's hair and dry it before the fire, and milady must be dressed with care, and adorned for the festivities!"

Enna felt her cheeks grow hot, and she threw an apologetic glance to Aramir, who was watching politely. "Naeomi, that is all foolishness, meant only for girls who wish to beguile the lords present."

"Precisely," Naeomi said, clasping her leafy hands under her chin. "The Nymrunian legate has brought a council of two score gentlemen!"

"They are here to observe Her Highness Queen Susan," Enna said, her embarrassment mounting, "not simple girls."

"Nevertheless!" Naeomi was clearly getting irritated. "Milady must come with me to prepare."

"Go on, Enna," Aramir said considerately. "The book can wait."

"I don't wish to be decorated and paraded about in front of Their Excellencies like an auction horse," Enna replied stubbornly. "I wish to eat and then listen to the storytellers, that is all."

"Please, milady," Naeomi begged. "You would make Their Highnesses very happy if you made a positive first impression on their guests. You must be introduced to them, you know, being the king's lady."

Enna winced. "Naeomi, I—"

"She makes a valid point," Aramir said quietly. "You ought to go."

"I'm not—"

"Milord is prudent," Naeomi said, eyeing Enna.

Enna's shoulders sagged as she realized she had no choice. Sighing in defeat, she closed the book and tucked it under her arm, swinging her legs out from under her. "I'll go. But I won't like it."

"You are the stubbornest lass I know of," Aramir said, standing up and offering her a hand.

Enna ignored it and stood. "I'm not stubborn. I just don't wish to—"

Naeomi took her hand and began to tug her from the library. "Come along, milady."

Enna huffed a sigh, and Aramir waved. "I'll meet up with you later, I suppose."

"If I survive," she said tragically.

Aramir laughed, and then Naeomi shut the door behind them. "We must hurry now, milady," she said, tugging Enna down the corridor. "I've seen milady's hair, and I can only guess how long it will take for it to dry."

"I—you're going to wash my hair? Why in the world would you need to do that?"

Naeomi gave her a cynical look, shooing her up the staircase. "I have hot water already drawn for your bath. You must get in it right away and scrub your every inch!"

Enna tripped over her hem and pulled the gown out of the way. "All right…"

"And you simply can't wear one of your plain old frocks," Naeomi continued. "The hems are all ragged! They are much too ordinary and workaday for a feast."

"I like them," Enna said defensively.

"Nevertheless." Naeomi opened Enna's door and pushed her through. "The queen has made a gown specially for milady, and you must wear it."

"She what?" Enna said. "But…but she's done so much for me already! I'm quite content with the frocks she's delivered—"

Naeomi shut the door behind them and began to unlace Enna's stays. "She wrote a note for you to read, milady, I believe it's with the gown."

It was then that Enna saw a paper package on her mattress. "Oh, Naeomi, just a moment," she said, brushing the dryad's hands from her dress.

"Not yet, milady!" Naeomi finished untying Enna's stays. "You must get in the tub before the water cools."

Enna was now burning with curiosity, but Naeomi was insistent, pulling her dress off and wrestling with her shift. Dressed in nothing but her bare skin, Enna was forced to stand on the cold flagstones and shiver as Naeomi grappled with her tangled plait. The moment her hair was loose, Naeomi pushed her towards the tub and dunked her head under the water as soon as she had settled down.

"We wouldn't have to do this if milady had simply come upstairs with me when I asked," Naeomi said lightly as Enna sputtered, beginning to scrub her long locks. "Start to wash, now, milady, and be sure to get behind your ears."

Enna rubbed the water from her eyes, scowling, and began to wash her arms and legs.

"Milady will thank me when I'm through," Naeomi said, rinsing Enna's hair with warm water. "Everyone in the palace will be at the feast tonight. It would do no good to still look like the sea rat you were six months ago."

Naeomi's nonchalant words stung. Frowning, Enna splashed water up her arms, rinsing away the soapsuds. "I don't like being uncomfortable."

"Milady hasn't worn Narnian clothes very long, have you?" Naeomi said knowingly.

"Well, no, but I wore Galmanian court dresses before, and they itch terribly. And pinch."

"But this is Narnia, milady," Naeomi said, leaning over to look at Enna. "In Narnia, we are free, women are allowed to choose their own husbands, and even our finery is soft and comfortable."

Enna blinked. "Well, I…I guess I haven't thought of it that way."

Naeomi smiled and rinsed her hair a final time. "There, milady, you may get out."

Pulling a terrycloth around herself, Enna stood, and Naeomi wrapped a warm robe about her shoulders and pointed her to a chair by the roaring fire. "Have you seen the gown Queen Susan had made for me?" Enna asked. "Is it really as soft and comfortable as you say?"

"I'll let milady see it for yourself after I untangle your hair," Naeomi said, beginning to run a bone comb through Enna's mane. "After I finish, dry your hair by the fire—don't plait it."

Enna winced, but, out of deference for her maid, kept from struggling. The process was over more quickly as a result, and she flipped her sodden hair over her head and ran her fingers through it, separating the curls so they would curl faster.

"What o'clock is it?" she asked.

"I would say about 4:30," Naeomi replied. "The sun is almost set."

Enna could see the steam rising from her hair as it dried in the warmth from the fire. "I am sorry for being so contrary…"

"Ah," said the dryad, shaking out Enna's damp towel, "milady is a young woman. It's to be expected."

Enna smiled into her hair, thinking that Naeomi would make a good mother.

A long hour and a half later, Enna's locks, usually flat and crimped from their perpetual braids, had dried to all their riotous auburn glory, much to her dismay. "Oh, Naeomi, it's terrible," she sighed, looking in the streaked mirror at her unruly curls. "It'll quite get in my face while I'm trying to eat and listen to the storytellers."

"Nevertheless, I won't let milady leave this room with it hidden in silly braids." The maid pushed Enna into her chair and started currying the mess with a horsehair brush. "This is a formal occasion, and you have lovely hair."

"I don't."

"You just don't know how to handle it, milady."

Enna sat in silence. Had she ever really tried to tame her hair? She hadn't really ever bothered with it before, just thrown it back in a plait every morning and forgotten about it. But as she watched, Naeomi's twiggy hands smoothed her angry curls into soft, gentle waves that settled cooperatively about her shoulders and down her back.

"See?" Naeomi said smugly, touching a leftover curl. "Milady has lovely hair."

"It'll still get in my face," Enna protested.

"I have the perfect solution." Naeomi produced a flat wooden box from her voluminous pockets and opened it, displaying a burnished bronze circlet atop a handkerchief. "The younger queen suggested milady borrows this."

"Oh, I can't—!" Enna cried. "Queen Lucy is very good, but I can't…"

"Look at it, milady," Naeomi said. "It is very plain and very thin. I doubt Her Majesty has less than ten finer ones."

"But I'll look so pretentious and silly!"

"Is milady not a gentleman's daughter?"

"Well, aye, in a sense, but—"

"Then milady is more than entitled to wear it. Now hold still." So saying, Naeomi took the bits of hair nearest Enna's face and pinned them just behind her ears. "Charming!"

Enna was loath to admit it, but it did keep her locks out of her face. "That is better, I suppose…"

Naeomi set the circlet on her brow and ran a hand through her hair. "There you have it. As fair and winsome as any lass in Narnia."

"I would not be surprised to find that I was one of the only lasses in Narnia."

Chuckling, Naeomi went over to her bed and picked up the paper package that had been pricking Enna's curiosity for the past two hours. "If you please to open this now, milady…"

"Of course I do!" Enna took the package from her, the paper crinkling. "Ah, here's the note…"

She opened the folded parchment. In an elegant hand, someone had written:

My dear lady Enna,—

I know how dearly you prefer to wear muted colors, but when the time of the Great Snow Dance began to draw near, I had one of my seamstresses craft a new gown for you. You are much too diffident for your own good. I think it is high time for you to be the object of attention, for once!

It is quite different from the frocks you wear every day, but please do wear it just this once. It is very warm and comfortable, for my seamstress fashioned it in a style similar to one I own and adore. (I won't wear it tonight, though, so you may have all the praise for your lovely garments!) I think the colors will look lovely on you and in the moonlight.

—Your friend Susan P.

"How thoughtful of Her Majesty!" Naeomi said. "Do open the package, milady."

Enna set aside the note and tore the paper. Folded neatly inside was a block of dark periwinkle cotton, soft and smooth to the touch.

"A lovely color," Naeomi said, taking it from Enna's stunned hands and unwrapping it completely. "Stand up, milady, and I will dress you."

She shook out the gown as Enna stood from her seat. "It…it looks rather shapeless," she said, looking at the cloth folded over Naeomi's arm.

"You're looking at the skirt, milady," Naeomi replied. "Now straighten your shift and put your arms up."

Enna did so, and Naeomi threw a dark red frock over her head. "What is this?" Enna protested, the cloth soft against her skin but longer that she was used to. She tugged up on the sleeves, trying to make them shorter.

"It's the wool underdress, milady," Naeomi explained. "It will give the overgown a full shape and keep your legs warm. Fix your hair, and then I'll put the other on."

Obediently, Enna pulled the ends of her hair out of the red dress, and Naeomi pulled the periwinkle gown over it. "Hold still, milady, and I'll lace you up."

Enna tried to get a glimpse of herself in the mirror as Naeomi tied the stays. The gown felt heavier than she was used to, and the skirt trailed a bit on the ground instead of skimming her ankles, as was the norm for her. And the sleeves—well, they were quite impractical! They were loose and rather short, the cloth ballooning out so they hung limply like skinned rabbits at her elbows. If it weren't for the sensible red underdress, her wrists would be quite bare.

Naeomi finished her stays and clasped her twiggy hands together at her throat. "Oh, milady…aren't you a sight to behold!"

Enna lifted the weighty skirts and went to the mirror. Almost despite herself, she let her mouth fall open in astonishment—so much skin was showing! They would never let a lady dress like this in Galma, she thought, touching her bare collarbone. A good three inches of flesh, from the base of her throat to the neckline of the gown, was exposed!

"I feel quite indecorous," she announced.

"Don't be silly," Naeomi said, pulling her away from the mirror. "Look at the rest of the gown!"

With a bit of difficulty, Enna looked beyond her bare collarbone and saw delicate gold embroidery all along the neckline of the gown. It glimmered in the firelight as she moved, and, despite herself, she felt a bit of joy at its beauty. "This is an exceptional bit of needlework…"

Naeomi bent and lifted Enna's hem, showing her the matching trim. "The queen thinks very highly of you, milady."

"Indeed, she does," Enna said breathlessly.

"Now, we must make a few adjustments, and then milady may relax," Naeomi went on.

"Adjustments?" Enna turned, her skirts swirling satisfyingly about her ankles. "I…I don't think it needs adjustments."

Naeomi took the periwinkle skirt and swept it up and aside a few inches, fixing it at Enna's hip with a gold brooch. "You mustn't step on this hem in the snow, milady. This shows the red quite nicely, doesn't it?"

Enna felt a bit lightheaded. She looked positively royal! "I…"

Naeomi led her to the chair and gave her a book. "There, there, lady. Rest for a bit before you don your cloak and go downstairs."

"I am quite eager to go, now!"

Smiling, the dryad patted her hand and smoothed a rebellious curl. "It'll come soon enough."

Enna sighed unhappily and looked out the window at the tossing sea. "Not soon enough for my liking!"

--

A/N: Bad Sushi! Y'know that conflict I was talking about last chapter? Well, I said it'd be in this chapter, but…as you can probably see, it's not. This chapter and the next were originally going to be one long chapter, but this one's already 5 pages long in Word, and it's getting late—I didn't think I could finish it all in time. So instead of one late, really long chapter, you get a less-late, good-length chapter. Hopefully I'll have 27 up by tomorrow! :D