Eleanor blinked, a little confused.
"For example," Margaret said patiently, "which dress do you want to wear to the garden party? Will it be the silver gown embroidered with little stars that the tailor from the Southern Territory sent? Or the blue cloak trimmed with snow fox fur, a gift from the artisans of the Northern Territory? And how do you want your hair tomorrow? Should we braid it, or would you like to wear that new little coronet inlaid with Moonlight Stones?"
Her words were gentle, guiding Eleanor's thoughts back to the next day's celebration.
Just as she'd intended, Eleanor fell into deep thought, her little face a mixture of hesitation and anticipation.
