I could see that she walked with an air of grace and excellence. Her stance portrayed the dignity and pride she held herself with, as she should. She was the Queen, Her Royal Majesty Queen Elizabeth, and it was only right she did so. Her gown was exquisite, a woven pattern of gold thread twisting and turning with gemstones studding the cloth as stars would do the sky on a cloudless night. The cloth itself was probably one of, if not the, finest and most expensive silks in the world. As she moved, the dress moved, seemingly flowing despite the many layers and heaviness it bore. It was like how the water in the streams at home would first part around, and then envelope the rocks jutting out, yet it would still look effortless and incredible. The bodice seemed to blend into the skirts, yet there was still a clear difference. The bodice seemed to be so tight, yet so loose, on our beautiful queen. It made her look as young as the common children that played outside on the streets, yet still made her look as stately as the Ladies that were wives of the Lords of the High Court, who were broken and bred into being the perfect wives and women. The many ribbons of the bodice seemed to be so incredibly intricately woven, intertwining with each other as the dark curls on top of Madame Elise’s head, as one of the higher noble women liked it to be. However, the ribbons seemed to be so simple, so easy to undo – much like the braids I put on myself  – that I was astounded. The dress must have cost the whole of England; it seemed so to me, a young peasant girl who came from almost no money, so it was well expected for me to think so. Her dress was one I longed to wear, to have. The sweltering heat and how uncomfortable the dress was mattered not, for I would have a dress with worth equal to that of the total treasury of England. Her dress and jewellery might have weighed her down, but she held herself like a swan, as it would gracefully hold its head, upright and refined. Her jewellery, much like her dress, was an interwoven path of many necklaces, each one bearing a gemstone. Each would be enough for my family to have lived comfortably for generations to come. Her earrings bore the most clear diamonds, they reflected light that bounced around the room, blissfully unaware of the many green eyed stares directed their way. Oh, but the Queen Herself! There was an air of innocence and childlike demeanour, but she still seemed to hold all the secrets of the world, supposedly taught to her by the most brilliant minds of past times.

How I wished to be her.


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