> Mira hears a tap on her cabin door, followed by Jac's
>voice, "Sianna? Mira? Are you ready?"

It wouldn't have mattered if she'd been restlessly pacing the floor waiting 
for him instead of carefully finishing the final wrapping of her dress. 
Either way the response would have been precisely the same.

"Just a moment, Lord Woodbridge," Mira says with smile as she finishes the 
final tuck. Then she moves to her makeup table and picks up the tiniest 
bottle in the lot. A tiny dab of perfume, behind each ear and at her wrists 
and a gentle scent teasing with hints of flowers, vanilla and spice, clings 
to her delicately.

She twirls around in front of the mirror, studying the effect. Her makeup 
was still flawless, her hair, elaborately pinned in an up-do, with hanging 
curls, twists and braids looped and held in place by invisible means, and 
the gown.

Gown. It was a single piece of fabric of no particular cut, woven of a silk 
made by some absolutely revolting looking cross between a worm and a spider 
indigenous to a single large island on a single world. Hers was an antique 
gold that shimmered with hints of the green in her eyes. The fabric draped 
in a manner unduplicated by synthetic fabrics, clinging to the body, even 
as it appeared to drape loosely.

She wore it in an elegant style, gathered and held without any obvious 
means at both shoulders, the fabric hanging down and draping across her 
breasts in a loose 'X', leaving just enough cleavage to be tantalizing 
without being brazen in front, and trailing as a barely sweeps the ground 
train in back.. The fabric  in between wound  in mystical fashion, no 
obvious seams, zippers, clasps or the like in place anywhere, to leave one 
leg bare  nearly to the point of her hip, while the rest covered, clung and 
draped.

The fabric, with its fantastic ability to appear casually draped while 
still clinging to a woman's curves had been made famous by Galina Zorn and 
many attempts had been made to capture the same look, to little avail. The 
designers didn't understand the philosophy behind it and added diamond 
clasps and any number of 'enhancements' even as they failed to capture the 
basic nature of the fabric. Most agreed that Galina alone could wear the 
style, but they'd never been to the island. And they didn't understand the 
principals behind it.

Mira's only concession was to wear shoes and carry her bag, a slightly 
dressier one for the occasion, to be certain, but she didn't go anywhere 
without her med kit. No jewels adorned her ears, neck, arms or fingers. It 
simply wasn't necessary to highlight a woman's beauty further.

Satisfied that all was in place, she opens the door, throwing it wide and 
standing there.

"Good evening, Jac," She says softly.

Mira