"This attire is beyond impractical, Aunt Genevieve. How do women move in such constricting gowns?" Standing before a full-length mirror, Ilene cast an exasperated glance at herself in the mirror. She shifted uncomfortably, unused to the weight of the gown and the constraints of the corset beneath.
Her attire for the day was the epitome of ladylike refinement, a stark contrast to the simpler, more practical garments she was accustomed to. She was encased in a gown of pale lavender silk, its bodice intricately embroidered with delicate lace and pearls. The voluminous skirts billowed around her, cascading to the floor, and it was accessorized with gloves, a pearl necklace, and a dainty tiara. Her hair had been meticulously styled, adorned with tiny violet blossoms.
"My dear Ilene, these gowns and accessories are part of the art of being a refined lady. They may feel unfamiliar now, but with time, you will grow accustomed to them." Her aunt, who was standing by her side, chuckled hearing her niece complain.
"I'd rather wear practical attire and be myself. Why must we conform to these stifling standards?" she peeked at her aunt's reflection.
Lady Genevieve's response was gentle but firm. "Conformity is not the goal, my dear. The lessons are important to understand the world of high society."
Ilene let out a frustrated sigh but complied with her aunt's guidance. She felt like a different person, and the reflection in the mirror seemed like that of a stranger. With reluctance, she followed her aunt to the elegant drawing room where the etiquette lesson would take place.
Entering the drawing room, her senses were assailed by the delicate fragrance of freshly cut flowers and the soft notes of classical music playing in the background. The room was bathed in soft light, and an elegant tea set was arranged on a table by the window.
Seated in the drawing room were a few other young women, similarly, dressed in ladylike attire, all of them with varying degrees of expression etched on their faces.
Lady Genevieve introduced Ilene to the group. "Ladies, this is my niece, Miss Ilene Valkyrie. She is here to learn the etiquette lessons of high society. Please welcome her."
The other young women offered polite smiles and murmured greetings, their gestures graceful and measured.
Ilene, feeling somewhat out of her element, offered a polite nod in return and took her seat in one of the empty chairs.
The etiquette instructor, a middle-aged woman with a stern countenance, began the lesson. "Good morning, ladies. Today, we shall focus on the art of conversation and the fine details of tea etiquette. Proper introductions are the foundation of any refined interaction."
She proceeded to explain the nuances of introductions, from the correct curtsy and hand placement to the subtle art of making eye contact and offering a warm but not overly familiar greeting.
The other young women in the class seemed more at ease, their years of refinement evident in their grace. Ilene, on the other hand, struggled to maintain her composure. Her tiara seemed to constantly threaten to slide off her head, and her gloves made it difficult to execute the curtsy with the required finesse. The gowns and accessories were constricting, and her movements felt awkward.
So much effort to just wear a dress!
As the lesson continued, the group moved on to the art of conversation and the importance of small talk. Ilene found herself more comfortable in this aspect.
After several hours of intense practice, the lesson concluded with the tea ceremony. Her nimble fingers managed to pour tea without any accident, and she observed the delicate etiquette of sipping tea with poise.
The tea ceremony had concluded, and the young women participating in the etiquette lesson were preparing to leave the drawing room before they exchanged polite farewells and expressions of gratitude.
~~~~~~~
In the Lady Genevieve's sitting room.
"I can't wait to shred away this heavy layer of fabric and breathe freely." Ilene sank into a plush armchair. Her first day of etiquette lessons had been a whirlwind of petticoats, corsets, and ladylike decorum.
Lady Genevieve approached her niece with a warm smile. She has been pleased with her progress. "You did well today, Ilene. I know it's not what you're accustomed to, but it's an essential part of our society." she commended.
Ilene nodded, a wistful expression on her face. "Thank you, Aunt Genevieve, but it feels as if I'm wearing a cage of silk and lace."
Lady Genevieve's lips curved into a gentle smile. "It's a necessary cage for now, my dear."
Emily, her ever-faithful maid, bustled around the room, preparing a tea tray with exquisite porcelain cups. The tinkling of porcelain cups and the fragrance of tea filled the air.
Meanwhile, a servant entered the room and handed Ilene a sealed envelope. The embossed emblem on the envelope caught her attention—a beautifully intricate design featuring a dragon and a rose entwined.
With a sense of curiosity, she opened the envelope and began to read the elegant script. "An invitation to an art gallery?" Her voice held a note of surprise. "From a suitor named Mr. Calbourne."
Emily paused in her tea preparations to glance at the invitation. Lady Genevieve leaned forward, her interest piqued. "Mr. Calbourne, you say?"
You mean, Alexavier Calbourne. The Duke?