Open Post.

[danceinblood]

There's a chill in the air with winter coming on, and the princess of Judea has, apparently, lost patience with shivering. She is rifling through what clothing she can find in the plothole, running her hands over fabrics and rubbing them against her cheek to test the feel. Should anyone have the urge to get a scantily clad Salome properly clothed

Comments

[war_prize]

"I should try the peacock blue," Briseis murmurs. She stands in the doorway, half in and half out of the room, watching Salome - silently, up until now.

[danceinblood]

Salome whirls around with a startled sound. Then, composing herself, she takes the blue up, examining it. "Does it suit?" she asks, holding it up near to her face -- as much to feel the fabric against her cheek as to check the colour.

[war_prize]

"It suits very well," Briseis answers gravely, and takes one step inside the room. "And for the winter months ahead, it seems warm, as well."

[danceinblood]

"Ay, 'tis so. The air grows so cold!" Salome wraps the cloth about her shoulders like a shawl, reveling in its soft-warmness.

[war_prize]

"There is much of that cloth," Briseis observes, stepping nearer to Salome, "it might make a fine gown..." She reaches out as though to touch the cloth, her fingers freezing an inch away.

[danceinblood]

"I have not my servants here," she says, meaning that there is no one to sew her a gown -- she has never used a needle in her life.

[war_prize]

Briseis looks sharply at Salome. "Cannot you work the cloth?" she asks, scrutinizing the princess a bit more closely than before.

[danceinblood]

"I am Herodias' daughter," she replies, as if that explains everything.

[war_prize]

"And I was Mynes' wife," Briseis answers shortly. "But if you have not the skill to craft the gown, I could assist you. I doubt me there are any to serve another in this place."

[danceinblood]

Salome stiffens a little at what she perceives as an insolent tone, but makes up her mind to speak kindly -- she'll be helpless on her own, so it wouldn't do to annoy Briseis and make her leave. "Wouldst thou? I was ne'er taught to work with -- with anything." she admits.

[war_prize]

"A sad state to be brought to," Briseis replies gravely, and takes the blue cloth authoritatively away from the princess. "Being helpless is never agreeable..." she adds, absently, as she inspects the fabric. "'Tis fine cloth- warm- but, I think, easy to work with. I can make your gown- or I can show you how to begin learning it yourself."

[danceinblood]

The princess frowns slightly, but relinquishes the cloth. She opens her mouth to say that princesses do not sew, but stops. "I can pay thy service," she says instead.

[war_prize]

"I will not take coin from you, nor any other," Briseis responds sharply. "Allow me some pride even in my fallen state. If I make this garment, it will not be for gold. I will make it to help one who cannot help herself; that is the measure of a queen."

[danceinblood]

"Thy pardon," says Salome, though there's irritation ill-concealed in her tone. "I thought it befitting to offer some recompense for aid -- gratitude ought not go unexpressed."

[war_prize]

Briseis looks at the princess for a moment, her expression unreadable; then she nods slightly and looks down to the cloth, fingering it as she grudgingly speaks. "Your thanks, I will take." It's as near to an apology as her stricken pride will allow her to offer.

[danceinblood]

Salome smiles a little (it's clearly a princess's smile, not quite superior, but aware -- very aware of herself.) "My thanks to thee," she says.