Just as Ms. Avery had said, the others were already in the dining room when Alek and Claire arrived. They all sat around a long rectangular oak table stained a dark, ruddy brown and polished to the point where it shone like glass. Draz glanced up briefly from his plate, which was piled high with all manner of food.

It was Arabella who broke the silence with a startled gasp.

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes grew wide. "Claire! What on earth are you wearing?" she asked.

Claire looked down at her clothing expecting to see something amiss, or even exposed. Everything looked to be in place and Arabella's remark was met with a shrug as Claire glanced towards Alek. His eyes were downturn, a ghost of a smile struggling to make itself known on his lips.

"Seriously, Claire!" Arabella continued. "You should take a bit more pride in your appearance."

"I think she looks nice," Draz commented through a mouthful of food. Arabella shot him a withering glare and Draz returned his attention to his plate, struggling not to laugh.

"You are never going to find a man if you insist on dressing like one," Arabella declared with a slight upturn of her chin. To her credit, Arabella looked quite enchanting in green, the chiffon and white lace making her seem delicate and doll like. Her auburn curls fell in soft waves across one shoulder, held in place by a silver clip that had been fashioned to look like a rose.

At this, Claire quirked a brow. "Then I suppose it's fortunate for me that I'm not trying to find a husband," Claire replied. Arabella rolled her eyes. She felt Alek trembling beside her and looked to see his shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. At least he was enjoying this. She tried not to smile, wanting instead to smack him in the back of the head for not rescuing her from this awkward conversation.

"Then do it for yourself, Claire," she continued with a huff, " and don't you dare tell me you don't like looking pretty either. I've never met a girl who didn't enjoy dressing up every once in a while. At the very least you can look nice for the ball."

"Ball?" Claire questioned, looking back towards Alek for some sort of explanation. He was still staring at his feet, desperate to hide his quiet laughter.

"The Christmas Ball," Arabella declared, her expression one of exasperation and surprise. "You didn't ask her to go with you, Alek?"

At that, the laughter subsided rather quickly and Alek looked towards Claire. Draz looked as well, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

Alek cleared his throat, eyes shifting towards Arabella a moment before returning to Claire. "Well, I didn't think she would be interested," he admitted at last. "But, since you've brought it up and made this incredibly awkward... Claire, I would be honored if you would attend the Christmas Ball with me. If nothing else, I'm certain you would enjoy the dancing."

"Do we really have time for playing nobleman, Alek?" Draz snapped.

Alek sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "As much as I hate to admit it, under any other circumstance you'd be right, Draz," Alek said shaking his head slightly. His hand dropped down and he slipped both into the pockets of his trousers. "Unfortunately, I've got to maintain the illusion that all is well, that the Drosselmeyer family are one step behind the king, offering support and guidance to the crown. I've been gone for days with no contact. If I miss this event, not only will the king grow suspicious, but my father will as well."

"You say that like you're not," Draz grumbled then fell silent, seeming to have no further argument. Instead, he stabbed at his food like a petulant child who had just been reprimanded. Claire would have laughed if she hadn't felt just a little bit guilty.

Alek didn't seem bothered by the reaction, in fact, he turned back to Claire with a smile that suggested it wasn't the first time Draz had resorted to such a childish display. "So, what do you say, Claire? I'm not the best dancer, my partners have always accused me of having two left feet, but I think you'll enjoy yourself."

The corners of Claire's mouth curved upwards as she nodded.

Behind them, Arabella clapped her hands together in delight. "Excellent! Claire, you are mine for the rest of the day. There is so much to do before tomorrow evening. We've got to visit the tailor, you're too tall to borrow any of my dresses. We'll have to see about getting you some proper shoes, and your hair, we'll have to do something with all that hair..."

As Arabella continued to talk about all the things that needed doing, Claire looked towards Alek who could only offer a helpless shrug.

Claire had barely had any time to eat when Arabella announced it was time to go. Bundling up in warm wool coats, knitted caps and gloves, Claire followed Arabella out to where a carriage waited for them on the street. The driver jumped down from the bench affixed to the front of the carriage, offered a sweeping bow, and then moved to open the carriage door.

The carriage itself was similar to the one Alek had gotten the day before, similar but not identical. There was one notable difference that had Claire confused.

"There is no horse," Claire pointed out, glancing towards Arabella who was pulling herself up into the carriage with the help of the driver.

The young woman paused, regarding Claire a moment, and then burst out laughing as though Claire had made a joke. "Of course not," she replied, "Really, Claire, just where is it you are from again?"

Arabella didn't wait for an answer as she turned to duck into the interior carriage. Claire frowned and regarded the carriage more closely. As she leaned over slightly, eyes sweeping across the space beneath the carriage, she realized it stood a bit higher than the one they had used. Tucked away, nearly out of sight if you weren't looking, was an intricate array of interlocking cogs and gears, no doubt serving to power whatever mechanical mechanism was used to propel the conveyance.

"Coming, Claire?" Arabella called, her fingers tapping restlessly against the side of the carriage. Claire said nothing, she simply nodded and reached out to take hold of either side of the door frame before leveraging herself up and into the luxurious interior of carriage.

During the ride, Arabella chattered happily about the men she hoped to dance with, and the ones she feared might ask. There was one gentleman in particular she talked about with enough frequency that Claire suspected Arabella sported a crush on him.

"They might ask you as well," Arabella said with a shrug. This caused Claire to frown. What would she do if some stranger asked her to dance?

"Don't worry," Arabella continued as though Claire had spoken her thoughts aloud. "Alek will look out for you."

Claire once again felt heat rising to her cheeks and turned to look out the window in an effort to hide her embarrassment.

"You like him, don't you," Arabella said after a moment, it was a statement, not a question.

"What? I- no," Claire managed at last. "I mean, yes, he is a very nice person."

Arabella looked skeptical, Claire tried to avoid meeting her eyes.

"That's a shame," she said at last, the comment followed by a wistful sigh. "I've never seen him so relaxed. I thought perhaps -- Oh look! We've arrived!"

Perhaps? Perhaps what? Claire wanted to ask, but she didn't want to expose the truth either. The truth that she did like Alek, far more than she reasonably should. Arabella, however, had all but leaped from the carriage before Claire had a chance to ask for clarification. Sighing inwardly, Claire followed, starting to regret she had agreed to go in the first place.

The shop Arabella had brought her to was unlike anything Claire could have imagined. Aside from the glass paned windows at the front of the store, the remaining three walls were lined from floor to ceiling with shelves and displays. Bolts of fabric of all sorts, in every color imaginable, spools of thread, lace and rims, baskets filled with buttons, bows and tiny flowers crafted from a variety of ribbons held every available space captive. The center of the shop was scattered throughout with large, flat tables, and dress forms wearing both finished and incomplete outfits.

As the door closed behind them, Claire and Arabella were approached by a beautiful woman dressed in a similar fashion as Claire -- pants, a loose blouse and a vest of crimson silk. The only difference was, the clothing had been tailored to fit the curves of a woman's figure and did not hang on her like the outfit Claire had pieced together. While this wasn't entirely her fault, she hadn't done much to remedy the situation either. The woman had dark hair and dark eyes that sparkled mischievously, and her skin was the color of cinnamon.

"Morning, Arabella, I wasn't expecting to see you today," she declared. Claire watched as the woman's brow scrunched together. "Did something happen to the dress?"

"No, no, Octavia, the dress is perfect," Arabella assured her. That easy smile returned to the woman's face.

"Will you be needing something else then?" Octavia asked.

"Another dress," Arabella explained.

"You planning to wear two dressed in one night?" Octavia asked, her brows rising.

"Don't be silly," Arabella said with a flippant wave of her hand. "I need a dress for my friend Claire."

It was then that Octavia seemed to take notice of Claire for the first time since they'd entered.

"Ah, I see, forgive me, Arabella, I thought she was your maid..." Octavia admitted with a sheepish grin. She looked towards Claire and extended her hand. "I'm Octavia Winthrope," she said when Claire reached out to shake her hand. "You're Claire, right?"

"Right," Claire replied.

Octavia nodded. "Alright, go ahead and take off that coat for me, just so we can see what we're working with."

Claire did as the woman asked, eliciting the same surprised gasp from Octavia as she had from Arabella when Claire had arrived at breakfast that morning.

"Oh my," Octavia declared, having far more tact than Alek's sister had shown. "It's a good thing you brought her to me, Ara."

"Can you find something for her?" Arabella asked.

Octavia grinned, a wicked gleam in her eye, "Do you really have to ask?"

Octavia drew a length of measuring tape from the pocket of her vest, before stalking towards Claire like a cat who had its prey cornered. "Marie," she called as she reached for Claire. A young girl appeared from between tables and dress forms. She couldn't have been more than twelve and looked like a miniature version of the woman now staring at Claire with determination.

"Write this down," she instructed. The young girl nodded and Octavia went to work. For the next several minutes, Claire found herself being pulled left and right, back and forth, up and down, until Octavia had measured and remeasured every inch of her, rattling off the numbers faster than Claire could keep up. Marie didn't seem to be having any issues, however, jotting them down as quickly as Octavia could spit them out.

"You're a dancer, aren't you," Octavia stated, prompting Claire's eyes to widen in surprise. She nodded slowly, and Octavia smiled.

"How did you know?" Claire asked.

"Just from the way you hold yourself," she said with a shrug. "I don't just design ball gowns you know, and I've made my fair share of costumes for ballet and theatre."

"How long will it take to get something ready for the ball tomorrow?" Arabella asked from where she sat lounging across a chaise tucked away in the corner. She looked even more doll like, with her gown fanned around her in sweeping clouds of pale green and white.

"Fortunately, you're not too tall and your not too short, your a bit narrower at the waist, but I have a few dresses I can take in that should work wonderfully. I've got a few day dresses that would suit you as well, with a few modifications. I'm going on on a limb here and assuming this is not your normal state of dress?"

"Well, I..." Claire began, only to have Arabella interrupt.

"She's in from out of town, her luggage hasn't arrived yet," Arabella explained, to which Octavia offered an understanding nod. "Anything you can put together would be lovely. Just add it to our account, my brother will see to the payment."

Octavia nodded again, a grin pulling one corner of her mouth upward. "Come by this evening, I should have a few things ready for you by then, the gown for the party will take a bit more time. I'll have it sent over in the morning."

"Thank you, Octavia, you are a true hero," Arabella declared, springing up from the chaise and hurrying over to where they stood. She gave Octavia a brief hug and then turned to Claire. "We've got much more to attend to, so we'd best get going."

By more, Arabella meant shoes and jewelry and appropriate undergarments. Each new place earned Claire curious stares, some less subtle than others. Each new purchase was placed on the 'family tab' and Claire felt guilty. She hadn't considered what sort of financial burden she might be on Alek and while it was obvious he had the funds to spare, it didn't make her feel any better about the situation.

They stopped for lunch at a little cafe and Claire listened as Arabella went on and on about the ball and who would be attending.

"Hasn't Christmas passed already?" Claire asked considering she had boarded the train with Alek on Christmas Eve. Arabella raised a brow and shook her head.

"You really are a strange girl, Christmas isn't until tomorrow night," Arabella explained before returning to her previous topic of young men, Elias Jonas, and dance cards.

Following lunch was a trip to a hairstylist who proceeded to trim and wash and comb Claire's hair until it shone like gold. Claire could not recall the last time her hair had looked so healthy and wondered if there had been more at work than simple tonics and technique. After spending another hour having her hair curled and braided and wrapped, Claire was finally declared fit for society, at least from the neck up.

They returned to Octavia's shop with the assurance that it would be their final stop before returning to the house.

"Look at that hair!" Octavia exclaimed excitedly. "Who knew such a beauty was hiding under all that? Come, come, I've got some dresses ready and I insist that you wear one now."

Claire tried to protest, she was perfectly comfortable in the pants and blouse, but neither Arabella nor Octavia seemed to care about her opinion in the slightest. In fact, neither woman seemed to hear a thing she said as they looked over the dresses Octavia had selected.

"What a lovely shade of blue," Arabella exclaimed, "it will bring out the blue in her eyes. Oh and this one, I must say that shade of red is quite bold, are you sure?"

"I dare say our Claire can pull it off," Octavia replied confidently.

Our Claire?

She bristled slightly, but said nothing. She had quickly learned that arguing with Arabella about anything was like attempting to catch a cloud. The moment you thought you had a substantial hold, she slipped free and went about her merry way, doing as she pleased.

The two continued to talk about the dresses but it wasn't long before Claire found herself standing before a full length mirror nestled away in the back of Octavia's shop. Despite a valiant effort to avoid it, the two women had managed to corner Claire and wrestle her into what had to be the most uncomfortable article of clothing she had ever worn in her entire life -- a corset.

As she stood stiffly before the mirror, tugging at the fitted undergarment, Arabella beamed at her and clapped her hands together excitedly.

"There, that wasn't so bad now was it? All that fuss for nothing..." the young girl declared, shaking her head. Claire scowled and had to keep reminding herself that this was Alek's sister and she was just trying to be nice. She could burn the thing in the fireplace later if it proved to be that unbearable.

Next came the dress, the blue one that Arabella had been raving about.

It was made of a soft woven material that felt nice as it slid across her bare skin. The gown itself was fitted, tapering at the waist before flaring slightly at her hips and finally draping in delicate folds to just above the floor.

"I knew it! I knew that dress would be perfect for you, Claire," Octavia exclaimed, extremely pleased with herself. "What do you think? Do you like it?"

For the first time since this day had started, Claire finally had a chance to voice her thoughts. All the annoyance and frustration that had been building up seemed to slip away as she gazed at her reflection. She'd always known she was pretty, she was the spitting image of her mother and to Claire, Nathalie had been the most beautiful person she knew.

Claire barely recognized the woman staring back at her, not dressed as she was. She reached up and wrapped a loose curl around her finger before allowing both arms to drop to her sides.

"It's lovely," Claire said at last, offering Octavia a tired but genuine smile. "Thank you for all the hard work you've done."

"You're lovely," Octavia corrected her. "A dress is just fabric and fancy trim, it's the woman who wears it that brings the gown to life."

Claire felt tears burning in the corners of her eyes and was grateful when Octavia left her side, announcing that she had much more work to do if she was going to have the ball gown ready in time. Arabella ordered the other dresses to be packaged up and loaded into the carriage which was so full by this point that Claire wasn't certain the two of them would be able to fit inside.

Fortunately, such fears were unfounded and a little over an hour later the carriage, its passengers and all its packages turned on to Viridian street for the final leg of their journey. Claire was exhausted and as she climbed from the carriage she wanted nothing more than to soak in a hot bath and crawl into bed.

As the attendants began unloading the purchases, the front door swung open and Draz came bounding out. He did a double take when he caught sight of Claire, his steps slowing.

"Arabella," Draz called, his eyes never leaving Claire's face.

"Hmm?" Arabella replied distractedly. She was busy directing the attendants on where to bring the packages. While Arabella had certainly picked out a more for Claire than she felt was reasonable, the young woman had bought twice as much for herself.

"Who is this ravishing creature and what have you done with Claire?"

Arabella giggled before she came over to drape herself over Draz's arm. "Stop, you're going to make me jealous," she said with a small pout.

Draz chuckled and patted her hand lightly. "Come now, Ara, you know you'll always hold a special place in my heart."

"That better be the only thing she ever holds when it comes to you, Haval," Alek declared as he strolled out onto the porch. He maneuvered easily past the attendants still shuffling back and forth with the packages.

"Is it safe to assume I'm picking up the tab for your shopping spree today?" Alek asked.

"Of course, who else," Arabella replied, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.