“Ah huh,” Silima said walking to the bed, picking up the dress. “Have you looked at the time lately?”
The hair brush hit the table with a loud bang as I stood up quickly. “Yes Silima, I’m aware of the time,” I said pointing to the clock turning my head in its direction at the same time, then gasped. “By the ancestors, that can’t really be the time?”
“That’s what you get for day dreaming,” she said rolling her eyes, then turning to the bed, “Really Daeris, you’re not planning on wearing this are you?”
“It is a perfectly good dress,” my temper flared.
“It is, if you are attending a funeral,” she responded unperturbed.
“What?” I couldn’t believe my ears. The dress was clean, pressed, and without signs of wear; what else mattered?
Grabbing my wrist, Silima led me to the closet. “Now, let’s see if we can find something more suitable.” Continuing her line of chatter, she rifled through a line of dresses, many of which I had only seen when they were presented as gifts.