Slowly, you rise to your feet. You're a bit surprised to find that you're wearing high heels, but whatever made you this way gave you the grace to walk in them easily, mincing across the floor.
You open the door.
The woman on the other side is taller than you by a head, with broad shoulders and powerful arms. She wears a belted blue tunic with golden epaulettes, and her wavy brown hair has been styled in a bob. Her face is sharp, like ice, and she has deep green eyes that you could lose yourself in forever.
It takes you a few seconds to realize that she's staring at you in stunned silence. "...my apologies, Your Highness," she says, "You look... beautiful."
You blush. That's a natural reaction to being complimented by a woman, right? You're too confused to think straight. Part of you is embarrassed, but part of you kind of likes it.
"I... uh... thank you," you say, "you are most kind."
You could swear that she blushed a little herself, but she quickly hides it. "I'm afraid we have no time for pleasantries, Your Highness," she says, "If we hurry, we can still make it in time."
"...in time for what?"
The woman looks at you as if you've grown a third ear. "For... for your debutante ball, Your Highness. Surely you remember?"