(4) Every Sunday Morning
Every Sunday morning she would rise with joy when her nannies went in to wake her. She would hardly be able to sit still on her plush vanity stool as her hair was done and her dress slipped onto her. She would sit in front of her vanity mirror which was surrounded by silver and decorated with beads of emerald and quartz. Her hands would be clutched around his trinket that hung from a delicate silver chain from around her neck. Her dark black hair would be brushed until it was as smooth and shiny as silk. Her gown had been chosen with great care and after much deliberation between the nannies and butlers and maids. The nannies and maids eventually agree to one of the little Miss’s simple yet extravagant dresses. The one that she had picked was slim in figure and a pale sage green in color. The dress had a long skirt that would trail slightly behind her as she walked towards her tall slatted windows. The young mistress’s hair fell down her back, passing her waist with sweet little ringlets on the ends of her hair. Her pale and delicate hand, which was heavy with the band of emerald he had given to her so many years ago, would wrap timidly around the pendant and key he had left her. The sun would rise and set, casting its golden rays onto her figure as she stood by the window, waiting for his arrival.