"They make her beautiful," Electra said. "And the elf girl—that blue dress made her beautiful too. It was amazing."

"It's just know-how," Godiva asserted. "A woman can be beautiful in just a hank of hair, if she drapes it correctly. It's all in the technique."

Certainly Godiva could! She had the most lustrous black tresses Electra had seen, reaching down to her knees. Her hair flared out and around, constantly caressing her. But Electra had no such asset.

Godiva brought out white material. "This will be your wedding dress," she said.

"But—"

"Any woman looks beautiful in her wedding dress," Godiva said. "It is part of the enchantment."

"But I can't wear that if I don't get married!"

"Of course you can. Naldo will figure out how." The woman worked busily, measuring Electra here and there, then cutting the material and tacking it together with quick temporary stitches. Soon she had it ready to try on. "Strip."

Electra gave up protesting. There was a hope and fascination about this business that she could not resist. Of course she would not get to marry Dolph, but for this hour she might pretend. She removed her shirt and jeans and heavy shoes.

Godiva studied her with embarrassing directness. "You are grimy from the siege. Go to the alcove and sponge yourself off."

Obediently, Electra went. The voice of a mother was not to be denied.

There was a polished stone mirror, but Electra did not look at herself, knowing that there was nothing to be gained. She cleaned up, dried, then turned to put on her panties. But they were gone. In their place was something else.

She picked up the satiny bit of material. It was a pair of delicate pink panties! "Oh, I can't wear these!" she said.

"Do you think I want you trying on a wedding dress in grimy off-white panties?" Godiva demanded.

Embarrassed, Electra capitulated. She donned the pink panties, then the pink bra, feeling wicked. She stepped out, knowing that her blush just about matched the color of the forbidden items.

"Very good," Godiva said briskly. "Now this." She held up the dress. It was thoroughly evident that it was not lack of dressmaking expertise that caused Godiva to wear her hair instead. She must have had much practice with her daughter.

Electra climbed into it, almost afraid to touch it. The material was wonderfully light and frilly. Godiva made quick adjustments, then had her step into white slippers.

"Unbraid your hair."

Electra did so, and fluffed it out. Finally she had to don a translucent veil and put a white flower in her hair. She felt totally foolish.

"Now look in the mirror," Godiva said, pushing her back toward it.

Reluctantly Electra went. She nerved herself and looked.