Raiva decided to take advantage of the situation, by taking a nap.
While the past two days had been draining, she had been kept busy by preparations and paperwork, planning, budgeting, and so on, for many, many months already. When she wasn’t kept busy by her lawyer, she was going over inventory lists for Giovanni’s estate with Jürgen, before he went back to his hometown.
It’s been so long already.
With a melancholic heart, she fell asleep, exhausted.
True to her word, Shelly returned an hour later, a knock sounding at her door.
“It is me, my lady,” she called out in a gentle voice.
“Please, come in.” Raiva’s voice was raspy from sleep.
Shelly entered while balancing a massive tray of light foods and crackers, as well as clutching a paper bag, presumably full of medicines.
“I have everything you need,” Shelly began in a low voice, mindful of her lady’s perceived migraine. “Everything here is easy to eat, and I got you enough medicine for a week, just in case.”
Shelly’s kindness and consideration made Raiva feel a pang of guilt in her chest. How could she tell her that it was all a lie to disguise the fact that Victor had been under her skirt, teasing her while they were talking?
She couldn’t, of course. Shelly quite honestly might have fainted at the idea, and never speak to her the same again, without double checking the outlines of her clothing.
I’ll be “better” tomorrow, then. Yes, that should do it.
“Thank you, Shelly,” she responded, trying to maintain the raspy of her voice a little longer. She sat up slowly. “Don’t worry too much. It feels like a short one. Just a sudden onset, so I got a little overwhelmed.”
“Of course, my lady,” Shelly smiled a mother’s smile at her, obviously having nursed many a sick person, Raiva included. She gently touching her forehead to check her temperature. “You are probably right, seeing as there is no fever with this one. It is fortunate.”
Raiva smiled back, “Very. Thank you.”
With a small nod, she left the room, carefully closing the door behind her.
I’m sorry, Shelly.
And she was, burying her face in her hands from sheer embarrassment.
When the next morning arrived, Raiva felt restless, having more or less been confined to her bed with constant check-ins from Shelly.
She got up, having gotten so much sleep that she was tired from it. The restlessness in her body made her decide to go out for the day, something she was otherwise rarely in the mood for, and dressed in Tristan’s tea dress, a simple, sage green one with simple white ruffles on the sleeves. The poor storing conditions it had been in had resulted in the silk being quite fragile, though she supposed there was no point in not wearing it so long as it withstand regular usage.
The knock on the door told her that it was almost time for breakfast.
“My lady?” Shelly, called carefully.
“Come on in,” she responded overly cheerfully.
She walked into her rooms, surprised at seeing her out of bed, in the process of putting her hair up into a quick bun with her usual steel hairpin.
“Are you feeling better today, my lady?”
“Obviously,” Raiva laughed airily. “I told you it was a minor one.”
She breathed a small sigh of relief.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“Thank the lords, I was concerned it might be like the one last time. You were in bed for two weeks!”
Her smile faded a bit, “Yes, I know. But I told you, I’m feeling much better lately. It’s already been half a year since that one anyhow!”
She waved her hand a bit as to make both of them dismiss the thought.
Shelly, of course, did not want to.
“Four moons, my lady, and honestly, it was terrifying! And now I walk in here, thinking it might be that again, and you are moving around far too much too fast, and of all things you are wearing that, what if it sets it off again?”
She halted for breath and looked around the dressing room.
“And really, it is so old and faded, why don’t we make it into something nice and decorative? One bend and the fabric looks like it will come apart, not that I would ever suggest getting rid of it, I know how much you cherish it, but quite frankly, my lady, I think you need more clothes than this,” she gestured at the half-empty hangers. “It will be getting warmer soon, and most of these are for cold weather! What if you have a heat stroke, and-“
Oh, lords.
Raiva zoned out, instinctively making a “hm” at every few sentences, until, a whole five minutes later, Shelly decided she was out of clothes to criticize for state, wear and appropriateness.
“I don’t need more clothes,” she eventually responded, simply.
“You do my lady,” Shelly reiterated exasperated. “Of course you say that you do not, but you have been either wearing home wear or that one mourning gown for two years now, and I am astounded that it has yet to fall apart at the seams.
“You need summer wear, and you need to get replacements for clothes that have not been stored correctly, and for my sanity’s sake, you need a hair pin that is more than just-“
Another five minutes passed as Raiva pretended to listen attentively, trying to find a reasoning that might get her to back down.
At last, it was her turn to speak again.
“Shelly, I know you mean well, but I’m not a noble, I’m not a socialite, and I barely leave home.”
“That is no excuse, my lady,” she squinted her eyes at her, using her stern motherly tone of voice.
The two stared at each other for several beats, before Raiva lifted her hand to scratch an itch on her brow, when the sound of fabric tearing filled the room.
In shock she looked down at her arm and saw that the armhole seams of the dress had ripped, extending all the way down the side seam to her waist.
Perplexed, the two stood there for a moment, staring at the oddly timed tear, before they both burst out laughing, Raiva loudly with her body doubling over and Shelly half subdued, with both hands covering her mouth, trying not to let the tears roll down her face.
Heaving in air, trying to stand back up straight, Raiva finally acquiesced.
“It- oh, lords- it seems Tristan is trying to tell me something from beyond the grave, Shelly,” she laughed. “He did always take your side!”
She continued giggling, while Shelly closed the door and helpfully attempted to remove the dress without causing further damage. Her hands were shaking from laughter still, but thanks to muscle memory and experience, she managed to help wiggle Raiva out of it.
“My lord was always a very intelligent boy,” she chuckled in return. “So! My lady. Would you like me to make the arrangements?”
Raiva shook her head, smiling, while pulling out her white, lacy day dress instead.
“No thank, you.” She quickly continued at seeing Shelly squint at her again, though more playful than stern this time. “I was feeling up for an outing today anyhow, and I don’t wanna burden you with the workload, when you’re already busy here.”
Shelly observed her for a second, then went to assist her in getting dressed, an old habit.
“Very well, my lady, but I must insist on at least fifteen sets per season, with shoes, stockings and accessory ribbons to match, five coats and five jackets, ten shawls, and at minimum thirty sets of undergarments, with ten being for winter wear.
“I am aware that your nightgowns are in relatively good condition, but please consider another ten or so, and four more for the cold seasons, since the winters have gotten harsher in the last few years and you always fall sick. And please, my lady, if you in any way respect my sanity, please purchase at least one hairpin that is not a plain piece of metal? This is my only personal request, and I will happily reimburse you for whichever strikes your fancy.”
Raiva had frozen in place, trying to remember all of those. She was good with numbers, but memorizing was somewhat of a weak spot for her.
“Uh-huh, yes,” she replied in a monotone voice.
Fifteen sets per season, five coats, five shawls, thirty nightgowns- wait, no.
“Hold on, why are you so upset with my hairpin?”
Shelly was already all warmed up for arguments, and plucked it out of Raiva’s haphazardly pinned hair. She held it up in front of them and gestured at it.
“Look at it, my lady,”, she cried out. “It is like a dull, overly dimensioned needle! That someone has the audacity to make this! This could have been several, excellent needles of any sort, and instead the scoundrel did this! It does not even have the charm of a simple, carved one! It is so!”
She stared at it in wide-eyed, frantic frustration, clearly having had this build up over a long time.
Raiva looked from her face to the hairpin and back, eventually breaking into laughter once more.
I must be losing it.
She wiped a tear form her eye and sighed dramatically.
“Fine, Shelly, to everything. Are you sure it will even fit in here though?”
“Of course it will, my lady! I made sure this room can fit triple that in a pinch.”
“Of course you did,” Raiva chuckled. “Now, I do need that pin back-“
“Absolutely not, my lady,” she responded sternly, tucking it away in her pocket. “Let us find a ribbon for you instead, and I shall put it up for you.”
Rummaging through a few drawers until she found the tangled-up stash of ribbons, she picked out one made of white lace and happily got to work on the as-of-yet-not-brushed tangled mess of curls while humming an upbeat tune.