After a few hours of scrubing and primping, and after Bridget had her hair nearly torn out of it's roots to be pulled up into a tight crown of curls, braided and twisted and pinned atop her head, and after her face and neck and chest had been throughly powdered and layers of make up added, Bridget was finally left alone in her chambers to be called upon later when she would be needed.<br/><br/>Bridget stood and looked at herself in the long elligant mirror framed with vines of gold and thorns of silver that was mounted on her wall. She had a very bad feeling about the way she had been dressed. They were garnments she had never seen before in her life until this day and they did not appear to be appropriate for everyday wear.<br/><br/>Bridget knew all too well what the thin white silk meant that clung snuggly to her figure and the flowing long white lace that was draped over her shoulders and hung loosely around her bare arms pooling delicately at her bare feet. Too much skin of her arms and legs and chest were showing than Bridget was comfortable with and she'd have liked to change, but she didn't have time.<br/><br/>Checking to make sure the halls were empty before she snuck out of her room and stole silently down the spiraling staircases, Bridget made her way down to the dungeon where Harrison was waiting. Stealing a lantern from the wall she hurried down the line of cells. She saw him sitting in the darkness in one corner of a cell and went to the bars with a hushed and strangled cry.<br/><br/>"Harrison!" she breathed reaching for him desperately through the bars, tears already making their way down her cheeks, ruining her make up.