Once Suzette woke up, she realized she was in fact, in the past. The ethereal figure was not lying to her. This was the bedroom that she grew up in, in the McGrowen capital estate. Her bed was big enough for three people and the frame itself was adorned in what looked like pale gold. There were some rubies, sapphires and emeralds decorating it. She had a canopy sprouting from the frame, sewn from only the finest silk--as fine as the covers that draped her, each had intricate lace details. She sat up from her bed and had to take a minute to process everything. It was late spring and her window was open, the fragrance of flowers poured into her room she couldn't help but breath in the natural perfume. It was a wonderful time, all she had to do was prevent meeting him--how hard could that be?

            In her reminisce, she heard a knock on the door, once she responded it was her head maid and nanny, Beatrice, "Hello, milady, I brought you your morning tea and breakfast."

            Suzette couldn't help but smile at Beatrice, Beatrice had always been like a second mother or grandmother to her, helping raise her since infancy. Beatrice set the tray down--while normally Suzette would've eaten her meals in the dining hall that has been halted as her parents are currently out of town. She then stared at Suzette, whose blue eyes seemed to have reached new determination and maturity, met with her silvery-steel hair, which was rumpled through and through. Beatrice sighed and grabbed the brush to comb through Suzette's hair. She couldn't help but giggle at the sensation, before she had come back to the past it had been a long time since she experienced this.

            Before long, her slightly wavy hair was elegantly draped along her neck in much better form. Suzette sipped on her tea and as she grabbed her food she said to Beatrice, "May I have today's newspaper?"

            "Of course, Milady." Beatrice smiled and walked out the door, it was a few minutes before she had returned and Suzette had to restrain herself from snatching it. Suzette was quite glad that newspapers existed so she could see the date. Having to ask someone what day it was seemed odd and suspicious. She groaned once she saw it--her original marriage meeting with Duke Theodore Chelvion was only a week away! She felt her anxiety ramp up again and her tea could do nothing against it, even with all of its calming effects.

            She didn't have much time to try and prevent the meeting, she wasn't even sure if she could cancel it at this point, if only she had more time. She shook her head, she was already blessed with this opportunity, she didn't want to end up having it taken away if she appeared greedy. She couldn't help but bite on her nail--a habit that Beatrice constantly chides her for. Back in the past, Duke Theodore still hasn't seen her face yet, perhaps if she releases a rumor that she's hideous it might repel him. She wasn't sure what else would work, she moved her tray away once Beatrice came back to take it. She stared at Suzette, particularly her nails and chided her, "Milady, stop biting your nails!"

            "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Suzette may be of noble blood, but there was no beating Beatrice in anything--if she scolds you, you just have to grin and bear it. It's been like that since she was young and it's too cemented to even try and change now, "Say, Beatrice, are my parents still out?"

            "Yes Milady, they should return the day before your meeting." Beatrice responded, and Suzette couldn't help but grunt, Figures.

            While she was at it, she figured she may as well ask, "Beatrice, do I have anything planned for today?"

            Beatrice snorted as her lady was still half-asleep, Suzette was normally on top of her schedule, "You have a tea party at Marquis Clandence's house."

            "That's today?" Suzette went agape, she totally forgot about that. Her best friend was Margaret Clandence, who was hosting the tea party today--it was her first ever one and thinking back on it, she remembered Margaret being quite nervous about it. If she didn't show up for her friend in her time of need, she may not forgive herself--not to mention, she wouldn't hear the end of it from her best friend, either.

            She walked to her closet and looked through her wide array of dresses, nothing came as perfect to her, and she was about to chose a blue dress and sapphire choker to bring out her eyes, but there was a new knock on the door. Beatrice was still inside, so it had to have been a different maid.

            The maid was significantly younger than Beatrice, but looked a bit older than Suzette, "Milady, I have a delivery here for you." Suzette seemed surprised by this, she doesn't recall ordering anything, but she saw Beatrice grab it and place it on the bed. Suzette walked away from her closet and grabbed a letter knife to open it.

            Once it was open, she saw a dress, she knew for a fact she didn't order any dresses from any catalogues lately. Her father made her swear not to order anything while he was gone--she had more than enough dresses. Even though she had gone back in time, he drilled this in to her, that there was no way she wouldn't remember. She looked at the package and there was no return sender on the dress, which was odd.

            Beatrice was just as puzzled as Suzette was, it was suspicious that her dark humor ended up coming out as she put on her white lacy gloves, "That's suspicious, I hope it's not laced with poison."

            Since they were white, if there was poisonous residue, it would show up on her gloves, there weren't any signs thus far, but that didn't stop Beatrice from being distressed about it.

            "Milady! That isn't something to joke about!" She chided her again, and Suzette couldn't help but look at her in a deadpan manner, "Do you want your lady to put on a suspicious article of clothing that might have poisonous residue on it?"

            "No, I just don't want anything bad to happen to you!" Beatrice cried, perhaps she took it a little too far, she did hear that Beatrice's siblings drank poisoned water and died when they were young. She supposed 'joking' about poison triggered those bad memories. She wanted to apologize, but Beatrice already excused herself.

            "Ah," Suzette stammered, "Shoot."

            She'd have to apologize later, and in the event that any other maids came in she was far too focused on the box to listen. She pulled out the dress so it was smoothed out and dangling as if it were on a hanger, the lines were intricate and detailed--it was mainly ivory with some blue and silver trim, there were also pearls sewn into it. It looked like it was going to be a trendsetter, in fact it seemed a bit too grandiose for a tea party--if it were a ball, it would fit the part, but she wasn't sure about this.

            However, it was either this or the blue dress she almost chose earlier, she called for a maid to help her put it on and stood in front of the mirror, it helped accentuate her features, it made her blue eyes pop out more, and her silvery steel hair was complimented by the silver accents on the dress. Looking at herself in the mirror, she felt like she had seen this dress before, but she couldn't remember from where or whom.

            She looked at her clock, ticking away and decided that if she changed again, she would end up being extremely late, as they were already putting on her makeup that would compliment her the most in this outfit.

            Once Beatrice came back, she looked at the box and said, "Milady, there's a letter in here."

            This surprised Suzette as she was so distracted by the dress, she hadn't noticed it, Beatrice handed her the letter and before she fully grabbed it, she took Beatrice's hand and mouthed, "I'm sorry."

            Beatrice smiled at her and said, "I'm alright, milady." Beatrice held onto Suzette's hands for another moment, giving her a gentle squeeze before letting go. As soon as Suzette looked over the letter, she clicked her tongue--it was typewritten, not handwritten, so she had no clues about where it came from. The letter went to say it was clean and fitted for her size. They had also chosen her as a model for this dress.

            She had laughed--while, brand names would send free dresses to ladies every once in awhile, to procure more exposure and then revenue, it was more often towards the ladies on the higher social ladder. She suspected it was a small boutique, as she must've been easier to approach as the lady of a count and not a marquis's or duke's daughter.