I reluctantly move out of his strong embrace. “Yes,” I say as I quickly go out the door. I don’t have a personal communicator, so I have to run through the servants’ area. Thankfully, my friend is having lunch. I run up to her table, “I’m sorry,” I say breathlessly. “I need to ask you if you have another item of clothing I could borrow? Not a uniform.” I struggle to catch my breath. “The Commander has asked me to marry him,” I put a hand on my chest to will my breathing to slow down, but the excitement is too much. “And I have nothing to wear but my uniform. He says I cannot marry in my uniform.”

My friend throws down her fork and stands up. “I have one dress. Come on.”

I nod enthusiastically. “Thank you so much. It would be my privilege to wear it.”

“Let’s go,” she says as we run through the servants’ corridors to her quarters.

“The government ships are on their way. And it’s either this or back to the farm,” I explain as we run.

“Not the other commander?”

“I said I’d rather go back to the farm, and I meant it,” I explain as we enter her quarters, I’ve been here numerous times as she hosts card games here.

“Strip,” she says as she opens her closet and gets out her one prized possession. One royal blue dress.

I stand in the center of her quarters in my plain black, uniform-issue underwear and sports bra.

“You’re going to have to take those off,” she informs me. “The back is completely open on this dress.”

I do as she says, and when I’m naked, I lift my arms, and she pulls the blue dress down over my head. It has many layers that must be smoothed and pulled until it’s finally in place. I can feel the cold air against my entire back. I reach out a hand and can feel the bare skin on the top of my tailbone.

I look up at my friend, who nods her approval. “You look good enough to marry the Commander now.”

“Thank you,” I say sincerely and touch her hand.

“Do you have any jewelry?” she asks.

“No, wait, yes, of course, my necklace,” we both race to my quarters which aren’t far. I grab my grandmother’s necklace and put it on. While I’m doing that, I ask my friend to send a message to the older female, my only other true friend on the ship, to meet us in conference room one. Then we run as fast as we can. My friend holds up the end of the dress, so I don’t trip on it. My breasts feel like they are flying everywhere without a bra.

As we round the corner to the conference room, I pause to catch my breath with my friend. She looks at me. “Ready?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“I knew he always loved you; everyone knew,” she says right as we cross the threshold, which surprises me, but it’s too late to ask her about it now.