Great expectations are what were supposed to be in store for her.
“Great expectations, huh.” She said to herself, pulling clothes off the clothing line behind her small home.
She wasn’t disappointed in her circumstance; she just admired the ironic nature of the whole situation. She was, indeed nobility. The blood of kings ran through her veins.
Jen walked inside, carrying the basket full of women’s clothing. She lived with three other girls, all a good deal younger maidens behind the tavern at the village of Goldshire.
They were watched over by the Tavern master, who gave them jobs working in tavern in exchange for having a place to stay, and a chance to land a peasant husband who would someday pass through the Tavern doors.
It’s not like Jen couldn’t land a man, there have been plenty of suitors. Being the oldest, and according to some the most beautiful of the bunch, she became somewhat popular with the single peasant men and merchants who traveled through. She didn’t boast at all the attention; in fact, she was happy being just polite and refined. She wasn’t loose in any sorts. She could hold her ground, especially if a drunk got too frisky.
Jen sat down in the chair in the small kitchen near the back of the house, and contemplated more about the various men in her life who tried to pursue her. From the different men coming in and out of the taverns, who could never meet up with either her amount of intelligence or just weren’t plain fun at all, to elven men who thought she was fun to pursue for awhile. Elven men are rarely interested in anything long term with a human as opposed to the long-living elven women. Then there were the men of the past, like the stable boy, or the various men of..
“Jenn-ee!” said a playful voice behind her.
“Hm?” she said, looking up into Chandelle’s playful brown eyes and smiling face.
“We got something to show you! C’mon!” she said, pulling Jenn’s arm and leading her out into the hall and up the stairs. “Close your eyes!” she said.
Jenn sighed quietly and did as she was told. She could feel herself in her own room, whispering around her, a short and fast giggle.
“Open!” yelled Chandelle. Jenn opened her eyes on a beautiful burgundy velvet dress, with gold trim and a low, low back. Underneath the dress was a brown chemise with white satin ribbon. It was a beautiful dress that brought back so many memories of days old.
“A dress? It’s beautiful. Is this what all of you were up to?” she asked the others.
“Well you don’t have a nice one, and the festival is tomorrow.” Said Tinker. Everyone referred to her as Tinker, even the tavern folk. No one really knew her real name, but no matter, Tinker was Tinker.
Jenn laughed, “So I can just go in this?” she amusingly asked, referring to her own dress she was wearing.
“If we all are in beautiful satin and velvet dresses, then that would guarantee a new suitor.” Said Emilee, who was a cute red head.
“Speak for yourself!” said Tinker. Tinker was betrothed to marry a commoner in town, the Baker’s son. In a few months they were to be wed in a fabulous ceremony right before Beltane.
“Yes, if you go in just.. that.” Said Chandelle, referring to Jenn’s present clothing. “You would look like our servant. None of the jousters or nobles, or anyone of good breeding would want anything to do with you.”
Jenn rolled her eyes and playfully shoved Chandelle into Emilee.
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