<div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">ooc</div><div class="spoiler_body">ooc - im assuming the party is an all day affair.  If it is only in the evening, Fleur wouldn't be getting ready right away.  Please let me know if I need to change this, thank you.</div></div><br/><div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/HGfGq8X.jpg)<br/><br/><div align="center">Florence's outfit</div><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">"bracers" of armor</div><div class="spoiler_body">(http://i.imgur.com/uw1Wxnb.jpg)</div></div><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Gown, wrap skirt pulled back</div><div class="spoiler_body">(http://i.imgur.com/1uFcQNK.jpg)</div></div><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Gown, no wrap skirt, with shrug</div><div class="spoiler_body">(http://i.imgur.com/o4VHFOO.jpg)</div></div></div><br/>Florence trilled at the thought of letting Fleur out, and in public, and at the tail end of a three day party.  Though she did well to hide her excitement from Lord Kenneth as he spoke.  So pleased was she that she didn't even feel the tiniest pang of annoyance at how he was obviously taking her idea without crediting her one jot.  She was used to such actions, and in fact, far preferred it.  A whispered word in his ear, led to action, with none of the onus falling on her, be it Florence or Fleur.  She preferred it when he took her ideas and thought them his own, it was smarter, safer that way.  It insulated her.  But normally she did admit a tiny mote of annoyance at how he dismissed her when he did it.  But this time her own excitement overshadowed any annoyance.<br/><br/>She nodded along, for once agreeing with him at least partially as he mentioned the food.  She'd had Su dishes in the past, and found them quite exotic.  While she did love the flavors and the smells, she realized that the dishes could quickly grow far too spicy for someone not used to them.  The more mild dishes were fantastic, but some of the orange sauces they used could blister the nose and make the eyes water before the first bite was even halfway to your mouth.  Fleur enjoyed the spicy musky taste of a man or a woman's natural spices too much to risk deadening her palate with volcanic plates of food.  But she did find that if she stuck to the more mild cuisine, it could be quite tasty and aromatic if served well.<br/><br/><strong>"Of course my lord,"</strong>she said bowing her head at his insistence that she wear something conservative.  She knew just the outfit in fact.  Since she was going to the party representing her house, she'd have to play up the demure and bookish wife "Florence" instead of letting the sultry Fleur out to play.  Of course that didn't mean she wouldn't have fun, just that she'd have to be sly about it.  She waited till her husband turned to the windows before licking clean her own juice slicked fingers.  Her husband may not be even remotely passable as a lover, but that didn't mean she didn't enjoy indulging in a taste of his salty leavings.  Then she fetched the book she had been reading from her bedside table and pretended to be absorbed in it until he left her room for the night.<br/><br/>She sighed and resolved to only allow herself one final finger induced self orgasm before falling asleep that night.  She failed however but did manage to stop after the third.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>The next morning found her standing naked in her room straightening out the gown and inspecting it for final touches.  A lovely copper colored silken damask gown with velvet embroidered on it.  The pattern, like most that she commissioned, had a stylized fleur de lis pattern hidden among it's velvet swirls, a thrilling and secret reminder no matter what she wore as Florence of who she was on the inside.  The gown had been tailored for Fleur, and paid for from Florence's purse, for exactly this type of situation.  The lower skirts had a hem line that fell an inch above her knee, a sensual and certainly scandalous outfit if worn alone.  But the dress had a custom wrap that tied about it, extending the coppery silk down to brush against the floor, or hover just above it if she wore the right shoes.  In an instant the gown went from slutty to the height of conservative fashion with the addition of the wrap skirt.  The top of the skirt left her shoulders , neck, and a large portion of her modest breasts bare.  But that indecency was covered with a high necked black velvet shrug with sleeves that went all the way from shoulder to wrist.  The outfit was completed with a pair of black silk gloves, with a fishnet weave on the outside that gave her an excellent grip if she needed it, or could be folded up to store inside one of the skirt's many hidden interior pockets.<br/><br/>She frowned slightly, this dress only had room for two of the thin metal darts that she preferred to hide and throw if needed, but hopefully she wouldn't need them.  A garter, high on her thigh concealed her enchanted dagger in a slim sheath.  The magical lace cuffs she wore, which provided her with magical protection, fit with the outfit perfectly, no matter if she wore the shrug, the gloves, or neither, and she thanked the candlelight society for imbuing such a fashionable item with the magical protections.  A lady simply did not wear armor after all.  The outfit was completed with black leather calf height boots with a heel to give her an extra inch or two of height, black fishnet stockings, and a lace garter.  She knew that she should wear panties, and if she was going to be modest bloomers as well, but the sensual naughty side of her decided to risk being wicked.  She'd forgo any other undergarments, and felt a thrill of pleasure knowing that whenever she sat she'd feel the cool copper colored silk rubbing against her sensitive and hairless sex.  As an after thought she added a silk kerchief to a hidden interior pocket, in case she was so turned on by her secret hedonism that she needed to dab up some of her own excited juices.<br/><br/>She took the time to cast the spell of smoothness upon herself, her hands glowing a sickly yellow for a moment.  Then running her hands along her body, from her toes to the very bottom of her neck.  Down her arms and into every intimate crease. One last stop across her face, careful to avoid touching her eyebrows or eye lashes, and she was done.  No hair could even begin grow anywhere on her body for the next thirty two hours, save the lush fall of dark locks on top of her head and her manicured eyebrows.  She knew she could easily go several days without refreshing the spell, it took several days of skipping the spell before even the hint of dark roots beneath her skin began to show.  But since she'd just cast infertility on herself yesterday, today was the day to make her body smooth.  She enjoyed the ritual after all.<br/><br/>Once done, she moved to her writing desk and sat upon the chair, enjoying the feel of the fabric on her naked bottom for only a moment before focusing.  She pulled the bottom drawer open and lifted away the false bottom to reveal her two spell books.  One the size of a normal book, the second small, ladylike and dainty, with a delicate bronze chain.  The smaller one suitable for taking with her if she needed when she was out and about.  But the larger her main book, with larger writing and easier to read.  She drew forth the larger book and opened it.  She was no wizard, and it was only with intense study and careful practice that she was able to memorize the complex arcane words and gestures needed to cast her spells.  She hesitated for a few heartbeats, trying to decide what spell to replace the smoothness with for the day.  In the end she decided on two castings of Prestidigitation for her cantrips, and two castings of disguise self for her more complicated spell.  Since she was going to the party as a representitive of her husband, she may need to change her image if she wanted to 'play' as Fleur.  Two castings would give her a forty minutes each of a fantastic, and magical, disguise.<br/><br/>Once she had prepared, she fetched a very conservative robe and made her way to the bath to wash and prepare herself for the day.  Bathing and biological necessities aside, she focused on preparing herself for the day.  Making sure her hair was just right and makeup was done before returning to her room to dress in the lovely copper gown.  Garter belt, fishnet stockings, garter on her thigh with dagger.  Then the gown itself.  A touch of lace at her neck and elbows.  Her lace gauntlets of protection.  Then finally the copper gown itself.  She could feel the air moving under the scandalously short hem and tickiling her bare sex beneath.  But then she wrapped the second wrap skirt about her waist and fastened it, allowing the dress to fall to the floor.  She put on her boots and it took a few moments to lace them all the way up.  Finally her velvet shrug and the silk gloves.<br/><br/>She was happy with the way she looked, and the only flesh she exposed was a band of creamy flesh that exposed the very tops of her breasts between the top of the gown and the bottom of her shrug.  As well as her pale face.  Even her dowdy and conservative husband couldn't complain about this outfit.  If anything it might be a bit too conservative for the current fashion trends.  But it matched her persona of the shy and quiet Florence.  With a smile she fetched a small book to carry, one she'd read several times on the histories of a far off kingdom.  The book was just window dressing, and she didn't actually plan on reading it again.  Then her outfit complete, she made her way to the carriage, excited to meet this foreign prince if possible.