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alter it so you might wear it tonight.”
    Rhiann noticed the older man was not much taller than she was.  He emptied his burdens onto the bed and motioned for her to hold out her arms so he could take her measurements.  She smiled when she realized she stood eye to eye with him.  She was so used to the Norman knights towering over her she forgot what it was like to look a man in the eye.  His daughters were even more petite and stood almost a head shorter than she was. 
    When the old man completed his measurements, he nodded satisfied and motioned one of his daughters to step forward with the dress she held in her hands.  Rhiann was surprised by its richness.  The dress was a deep emerald cut from a fine, elegant material with gold threads stitched in a floral design around the neckline and cuffs. Rhiann stood still while Eton and his daughter lifted the dress over her head and pinned it to adjust the fitting.
    Rhiann’s mood lifted at being clothed in clean, beautiful clothes again.  It was a silly thing maybe but it was nice to have people fuss over her and exclaim at her beauty and how the green coloring of the gown exactly matched her eyes and the gold threads, her hair.  Eton directed his daughters to remove the dress, and then held up a rich burgundy cloth against her.  The burgundy was followed by a pale gold the color of freshly churned butter.  Rhiann’s head was spinning with the number of gowns the little man seemed intent on sewing for her.
      When she tried to protest, her concerns were waved away.  He assured her he was under very strict instructions to ensure she had everything she needed.  Once the dresses were complete, he addressed the issue of her lack of chemises and stockings to wear beneath her gowns.  He clucked disapprovingly at her dirty shoes and promised to have several pairs delivered to see to her needs.  He also pulled from his bag ribbons and silks of all colors for her hair, and belts for her gowns.  He fitted her for a new winter cloak and told her he would see to it boots were delivered for outer wear. 
    A hesitant knock on the door brought the arrival of a lady’s maid assigned to see to her needs.  She informed the gathering the king’s guests were already arriving for the evening meal and shyly requested Rhiann take the chair near the fire so she could begin the laborious process of arranging Rhiann’s waist length gold curls into a fashionable style. Eton and one of his daughters were working furiously to ensure the green gown would be ready in time. The other daughter was sent in search of a suitable pair of shoes.  It was decided Rhiann would have to wear her own chemise for the evening as her new ones could not possibly be ready in time. 
    By the time her entourage pronounced her ready to join the king and his guests, Rhiann’s head was sore from the maid’s attention, her skin felt like a pin cushion from all the minor adjustments that were made to the gown once it was already on her, and her feet were already sore from wearing the last minute slippers procured from somewhere but which were unfortunately too small for her feet.  She was just heading towards the door when a peremptory knock announced the arrival of a member of the king’s guard sent to escort her downstairs.
    Rhiann strode silently next to the king’s knight, her head held high, outwardly calm, but inside her stomach was in knots.  The housekeeper must have been mistaken about the king’s intent to marry her to one of his knights, but if so what else could he do with her?  She could not stay indefinitely in London as a guest of the king.  There was no family in Saxony she could go to.  She doubted the king would agree to send her to her mother’s mother, and while he might agree to send her to Normandy to her father’s mother, she thought perhaps she would even prefer marriage to one of the fierce knights who escorted her to town rather than spend her days under the thumb and