Well-dressed

When someone knocked on the door today, I didn't know what the day had in store for me. I just knew it was pretty early for anyone to want something from us.

So I turned to Nela, still half-asleep, and whispered a "good morning" into her ear. She mumbled something, but was very clearly not awake yet. I let her rest. Her day was probably full enough again.

Instead, I stretched, and got up as I heard another knock at the door. It wasn't unusual—after all, while we had found a rhythm these last few days, there was always someone who wanted something from me, or more often, from Nela.

"Hello?" I asked, and opened the door.

I was greeted by Sören and Meike. While that wasn’t unsual, our dance lessons were in the evenings – not mornings. I gave them a surprised look. “Should I wake Nela?”

Meike glared at me, and shook her head. "Come with us."

"Huh? Uh, sure.”

While she still glared as she always did, it felt like her face was softening, somehow. She didn't seem to mind the close proximity to Sören, either. And he was beaming.

Still, I didn't say anything about that. Even if I knew now that Meike wouldn't do anything to me, it still wouldn't help me to be in her bad books. That much I was sure of.

I let out a small sigh. "Fine then, let us go."

I brushed past them, and made my way towards the ballroom. In my head, I already went through the different dance steps, and how I had to adjust my posture to dance with Meike. Since Nela was just a bit taller than me, it was a different feeling from dancing with Meike, who was shorter than me. And that was something I still had to consider consciously, as the dancing was still difficult for me. By now, I highly doubted I would become a dancer by heart until the engagement party. Maybe after that, but...

"Hey, wrong direction, Dööskopp!" Meike called after me.

I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around. She was shaking her head, and neither she nor Sören had moved. It was then that I realized something was different today.

And with a certain apprehension, I returned to them.

"What are we doing today, then?"

"My friend," Sören said, putting a hand on my shoulder, "You need to be presentable for the party! Today, we will find an outfit to make you look dashing."

"An outfit?"

Oh no. Oh no no no. I was fine with my simple linen shirt and pants, thank you. But as if Sören had thought this might happen, he did not let go of my shoulder as he steered me to another part of the building.

"Clothes are important," he said. "They make or break the first impression. And you want to impress the queen, yes?"

"I guess so," I muttered.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. It could very well be all in my head, and my worries would be for nothing. But I did feel like an idiot, and there was no way around that.

I just had to get this over with.

*~*

"Next!"

Meike brought more shirts to the little dressing room where Sören and I stood. I didn't know how long we had been in here—was it minutes? Hours? Days? It definitely felt like days, and I was dressed in only a pair of pants. We hadn't even agreed on a shirt yet.

Around us, clothes piled up in all shapes and colors. And as much as I hated playing dress up, I was finally in a spot where I just didn't care anymore. So when he gave me the next shirt, I put it on without complaints. Those had died long ago.

"That looks better," he nodded.

I took a quick look in the mirror. Aside from the fact that my hair still definitely needed a cut, the shirt was fine. So were the other ones before it, but Sören had something to say about each and every one of them.

For me, it itched around the collar, and even though there was enough space, it still felt restricting. But I couldn't loosen it, or he would scold me again.

I glanced at him. "So, can we keep it?"

"Do you like it?" For a moment, he reminded me of an overeager puppy instead of a nobleman.

I sighed. "It's fine."

"That's not an answer." He crossed his arms. "This is supposed to make you feel handsome. Do you feel handsome?"

Once more, I glanced into the mirror. No, I don't feel handsome, I thought. Not with that haircut, or my posture. But I doubt the shirt will change anything about that.

"It's alright," I said.

I just wanted this to get over with.

Sören looked at me for a moment, deliberating something. We were taking too long for my taste, but escape was no option, as I also knew I wouldn't be able to outrun Meike, who patiently waited outside. Just why had these two have to ally themselves?

"Alright." For a moment, hope bloomed in me that we were done now. "Then let us move to the vests."

And just as quickly, that hope died again.

I had never worn a vest before in my life. I didn't even quite understand how it worked—why there were no sleeves, and why I still had to button it up. I just knew it added another stifling layer of restriction on top of everything else.

The vests he presented me with were either a dark blue or black. Some of them were more tight than others, and the way they closed were all different. Some had three buttons, some had five, one even had fifteen. And yet, I still struggled to see the difference between them.

"This one looks the best," Sören finally said.

I took it without a word, and put it on. I just wanted this to be over with. How could anyone enjoy such an ordeal? Apparently, these thoughts were written plainly on my face, because Sören sighed.

"You are not having fun."

"No, I'm not."

"But this is supposed to help you with the party!"

I blinked at him. "How? It's just clothes."

"No, that's wrong. It's not just clothes—it's confidence. You look and act better in better clothing."

I looked at the mirror. I still saw the same old me, even if I was dressed better than before. "But it feels restrictive."

"Hm. That is a problem. You're not used to this," Sören said, nodding slowly.

"Yeah. I guess it can't be helped."

We didn't have enough time to get me feel comfortable in these clothes on top of everything else. The preparations for the engagement party were running high, and it felt like everyone was waiting excitedly for it. Maybe that was just my anxiety, though.

"Mhmm. Mhmmm." Sören nodded, as if deep in thought. "Do you think you can move in these clothes?"

I lifted my arms over my head, turned around, and explored the full range of motion I had in these clothes. Yes, it felt pretty restrictive, but there was nothing I really couldn't do.

"I don't think I have a choice," I sighed.

I wanted to impress Nela, and her mother, after all. At least the pants had pockets. I didn't want to ask for more.

"Great! Then let us choose the accessories and get you a haircut," Sören beamed.

"I'm not done yet?!" I let out a groan.