The gift for a certain Miss Elsbeth that I have yet to meet sits nestled in a box that appears nearly as precious as its contents. The container is wrought in gold, with a delicate clasp in the shape of a heart. But inside it lies a sweeter gift on a pink pillow, a gold ring with the intricate rendering of a rose on top of it. The workmanship is so fine that the flower truly looks like it was captured in full bloom and dipped in gold. But I hardly have time to admire the workmanship as I get ready for the tea party where I shall present the gift.
"Are you sure this is the right style?" I wince right after I ask as Marie tugs at a piece of icy white hair a bit too hard. I'd gone to bed the prior night without braiding my hair, so intent was I on finishing the book about divorce that Henry the kind librarian at the Imperial Library had given to me. Now I'm paying the price.
