[ TT ] You make the weapons . Tell me about your customers . And the weapons .

I'd always liked gold, but silver was so much easier to come by. Lace covered my breasts, but the rest of the dress I wore was heavy velvet. It had taken three people to lift the material over my head. I only stood with my arms raised and waited for them to cinch the back and arrange the folds of the skirt. A girl -- whose name I did not remember -- threaded silver rings onto each finger of my right hand. Some were more difficult than others to work on. My skin had grown tight of late. A gold necklace was placed around my neck and secured, and I allowed myself to flutter my fingertips against it gently. I loved the feel of gold against my skin. Silver was cold, but gold was as warm as a lover's touch. 
 
 
 The Lord knows I had had few enough of those. 
 
 
 They showed in the first customer once I was dressed and my hair arranged. The ring-girl had wanted to paint my face white and my lips red, but my skin had already begun to sore around the corners of my nose from the white powder they used. My face was bare; a blank canvas. 
 
 
 The customer was a high-born girl, dressed how she assumed a villein would dress. The gold embroidery on the wool dress gave her away, a single thread straggling from a sleeve. Her head was held too high, her shoulders too far back for her to be raised as one of the smallfolk. When she extended her hand to me it was uncalloused, as pure white as a lily-flower. 
 
 
 `` I have come to learn,'' she said hesitantly. 
 
 
 `` The mother waits outside,'' the ring girl whispered in my ear. The servants change every day here. `` She has only just begun her courses.'' 
 
 
 The young girl looks around the room as she pretends not to listen. Her eyes are open and blue, round as cartwheels. I know she is frightened. Everyone shares that look when they enter this room. It is small, dark -- I keep the drapes across the windows to try and forget that my sight is going -- and no fire burns in the grate despite the cold. After all, I have my gold to keep me warm. And I, most of all, must scare her. 
 
 
 `` Sit,'' I whispered. 
 
 
 She knelt beside my seat and looks up at me piously. Surely this is how the Madonna feels. Young girls in constant reverence. 
 
 
 `` You have come to learn the lady's weapons,'' I never ask questions. `` You have come to learn from me.'' 
 
 
 `` Yes, my lady.'' 
 
 
 `` I have many names, but that is not one I take. You will call me Armouress,'' I sighed. `` Tell me what you know of the King's wife.'' 
 
 
 The question took her by surprise. The large eyes blinked. 
 
 
 `` My-Armouress... The King has no wife.'' 
 
 
 `` Not as yet,'' I reached out for her chin and turn it upwards to look at her properly. I can not truly make out much, save for her own blue eyes. She shuddered in my grip and tries to turn away. I must be hideous to her. 
 
 
 `` How many wives has the King taken?'' I asked 
 
 
 `` Three,'' she replied bitterly 
 
 
 `` How many girls have I taught?'' 
 
 
 `` I do not know, Armouress.'' 
 
 
 `` Four-and-twenty,'' I answered. `` I will teach you my craft. I told you I have many names. I am the Armouress, but I am also the Queenmaker.'' I looked to the ring-girl. `` Send the mother away,'' I said to her. `` Her daughter is safe with me.'' 
 

