COMPARISONS
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The Fashion Boutique of Hildeth and co.,
The Town of Crimsonton,
Kingdom of Velicia,
Early hours of the morning,
The Eighth Day of the Month of November,
Thirty Third Year of the Reign of King Jesse Crestings
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Lady Hildeth went on, stacking the insults that her mind could retrieve upon the sight of Amelia. But the young damsel receiving the lash of bitter, personally offending words from the propreitress knew that there was a specific streak of indignation inspired by a reason in the woman's heart:
Before Amelia was employed, her adoptive mother had been working at the Hildeth Boutique. Her designation hasn't been a designer or a sales woman, but as a model that donned the beautiful makes of the Boutique and lured the interest of every woman of the Kingdom.
Jasper's mother had been a very elegant and comely woman that could exact praise even from the jealous. She was the embodiment of all the standards of beauty that the Kingdom of Velicia's feminine high society acknowledged. Thus, employing her had been like a constant asset to the Boutique.
However, after her sorrowful demise, Amelia had stepped up to be employed in her stead, for the sake of repaying the lofty debt their parents had obtained. Unfortunate for Lady Hildeth, the young damsel of chestnut hair was no where near the standards that her mother stood.
She was pleasant to the eyes with plump lips, long lashes and rosy cheeks, but she was short and voluptuous. The women of high society were blind to the basic beauty that she was, merely because she did not possess a stringent waistline.
On personal terms, Amelia was not swayed by the demeaning judgements she received from women, because she was confident in the comeliness of her shape. The reason for the self-assurance was so:
Because of the signs she developed over her back, the young dame had always thought that she would never be able to marry within the kingdom, for she deemed no man to be accepting of her cursed race. And Amelia was well aware of the fact that she would never be able to hide her scars from her future husband.
On a parallel event, every season when the sailors returned from the Western seas with merchandise and foreigners, the festive occasion which called the whole kingdom to the harbours to make leisurely purchases, where the young dames would dance to minstrels and buy themselves harps and lyres and flutes, it would be the time that every of the folks would look forward to ardently.
Against all the happiness and spirit of the occasion, Amelia was most expectant because she would have an eye out for a lovely, sweet-hearted sailor or foreign merchant who would be willing to take her to be his wife and she could sail away to a distant land with him that she could call home, where the signs of her skin would no longer be her bane, but her prize, marking that she is a healer.
A gift and not a curse.
In pursuit of all these fantasies, in every event, the plump damsel always found herself admired by many young men, regardless of the fact that she never danced or sang or made herself a public appearance. She would dress modestly, despite the fact that no other young lady did.
She would quietly run her stall of homemade cakes and delicacies and make sweet conversation with any that stopped by.
None of the men that had admired her were willing to take her away to be a wife and settle to a family, but were merely wooed by the beauty that she was. Many had wished a night with her, which she would only refuse. Many, in each season, had promised to return to make her their bride, but such never saw fulfilment.
But the admiration from most had lasted. Thus, the damsel of dark curling hair knew that she was comely to the eyes, but still awaiting a worthy man.
In the present, where she was being scolded ruthlessly by Lady Hildeth, Amelia's senses resurfaced from all her fantasies.
Although the words taken were bitter to her ears and stabs to her heart, the damsel felt that in hindsight, where she may move away to settle in a distant and foreign land and would no longer know debt, would be in love with a man that would take care of her and Jasper, the Lady's insults seemed immaterial.
"Watch your figure! Be sure not to be a shame to your acquaintances. Look at all the damsels around and how well put together they look! Maybe take inspiration from the beauty that is young Miss Charlene Walterus!"
That felt like a sword plunged into her heart.
Remaining silent for the rest of the lash had served the Lunadynn damsel pleasantly. After the brutal dose, Lady Hildeth seemed fairly settled, like most of her vexation had been spilt out, spent, and she was freer than before.
Although the young damsel had tried to tune out the nastiness she had received from the tongue of her Ladyship, she could not completely refrain from taking some of the words to heart.
Amelia did not understand why she was compared to the daughter of the Duke.
Memories of hearing that Knight Erion, the one she presumed to be her rescuer the previous night, was going to pay the beautiful Lady a visit seeped into Amelia's mind. Her idea of the whole situation was contested.
The man would be there, that very moment, enjoying the pleasant presence of the Duke's daughter.
Amelia tried to swallow her feelings, but they were stubbornly knotted in her throat and she couldn't help how overwhelming they were for a second. She repeatedly blinked her tears back, although they burnt her eyes, threatening to fall.
She could not afford to lose face.
Taking a step back she withdrew to her tasks, fervently ensuring that none of her colleagues could see how much the unpleasantness had disarmed her. For a second she even wished Jasper was there by her side.
As much as she didn't want her younger brother to see her the way she was, it was harder to bear the heartbreak when she felt like she was in a hostile environment full of people that were disassociated from her.
None of the damsels and women of the Boutique particularly made friends with her, for she was abhorred by Lady Hildeth and each that was employed there wished only to please the woman. Such had oft rendered Amelia to be by herself, only occasionally making conversation with some kindly dame that passed her.
The maiden of long brown curls trained her eyes on the task at hand and tried her greatest efforts to keep the tears and bitterness at bay.
~