At first red, Myorla and Ceres dress me in an elaborate gown the shade of a peacock and embroidered with matching feathers. The cerulean shimmers brightly and I hope no servant will be blinded. The sleeves contain long, flowing ends which stop at my elbows. The fan when I walk.
I didn't believe Ceres when she proclaimed the gloves are beautiful. I have to use gloves to touch the world and they get dirty.
Ceres pulls a long, rectangular beige box tied with a red ribbon from the air. Myorla unties the ribbon and reveals the gloves. They are fingerless and crocheted in the finest thread of flowers, vines, and argyle patterns.
"Lord Jerrath made designed and made these! Ceres exclaims.
"Ceres are you serious!" Myorla cries in mortification, "What will Lord Jerrath do when he comes to discover the betrayal of your contract?"
"He will do nothing," Ceres proclaims. "Oh Myorla, even after a century and a half you have not grasped the mind of Lord Jerrath."
