#whatotherthievingbird

said no one ever about you

*Maiden's Day is always a hideous affair, done up in gossamer silks and frothy lace. Always held in the spring when the blossoms were at their peak, lavenders and oranges and golds and reds and pinks. The supposed purpose of the holiday is to celebrate the unwed women of the realm, and it is considered a very great honor to be invited to the reception in the Queen's rose garden and she should be grateful and pleasant but there is an unseemly undercurrent to the whole thing that just turns her stomach.* *Sigyn sits on a bench to the side, under the wisteria arbor, picking at a bowl of berries, and hopes to avoid further painfully dull conversations. Or worse, dance invitations.* *The pearl grey gown she managed to convince her mother to let her wear is comfortable, at least. And fancy enough to be polite but not particularly eye-catching. The metal bodice digs into her ribcage and that is something she could do without but so far she is cautiously hopeful that she might escape the fete unscathed.*

Weren't you in the news?

Most people have heard this music, but have no idea what it actually is. :)