“You’re ready, Your Grace.” The maid said, forcing Adeline to focus back on the present. After helping her put on a brand new dress, albeit one out of fashion, the girl had insisted on doing her hair, reminding her she would be meeting a prince. Adeline had reluctantly agreed, remembering with horror what she looked like the first time met him - oily hair falling loose from her braid, face covered with dirt, blood, and sweat, and clothes that looked like she hadn’t changed them for weeks. No wonder he didn’t want to talk then. He probably had trouble breathing in her presence.
“Please, follow me, Your Grace. He will meet you in the garden.” The girl said, and Adeline turned her back on the mirror, following her out of the room. It was strange to act and look so proper in the middle of no
