<b>Re: The Magician's Apprentice (Leaquad, Qedesha, mercurial)</b><br/><br/>Unlike the well to do women in the white dress, Alexandra stands out less. Her dress was a poor mid-wife's daughter's white, made with too-diluted bleach on tan-brown linen, once their betters had their shining cotton and wool. She wears no corset, the dress cinching itself to her young body, likely two years too small for her, the pattern cut before she had breasts or hips to fill it out. Now her chest strains against the garment, and she draws more stares than she would perhaps desire.<br/><br/>She had been surprised when her petition had been answered - tending to the sick, the poor, even some of the whores who now showed their attentions to the other apprentice - this was not a path that led to glory, or power. She waits a respectful distance away, unable to see what the other applicant is saying to him, but she soon sees her fate, a preview of what waits for her. Bowing her head and trembling quietly, she waits her turn.