Twelfth Night

6 January, 1359. Westerhaven Palace, Islia

Camilla and her ladies had spent all afternoon in her bedchamber getting ready for the evening's grand banquet. The Twelfth Night was considered the most important celebration of the year and no one dared miss it.

Camilla had grudgingly let her gown be chosen for her. Her friends had unanimously chosen a golden silk dress with long, trailing sleeves and creamy pearls edging the neckline. Camilla had been a bit horrified by their choice.

"Oh dear lord, no. I can't wear that! It's far too extravagant." she had shrieked.

"Nonsense!" Meg had clapped back staunchly. "There is no such thing as too extravagant for Twelfth Night. This is most definitely the dress, my lady. Nothing else will do." 

"Besides," Katerine had chimed in sweetly. "No matter what you end up wearing, rest assured you'll never manage to outshine Princess Violet in her magnificent fur stole."