The word for "family" in Alisian translates directly to "the name of the blood".
"Trust me," Verendiel said as closed the door to Willow's room. "You will like this man. He is wealthy, well-educated, well-bred from the most noble Tyrisi lineage, and most importantly, one of us."
"A doctor?"
"Not just a doctor. A white-magic healer. With generations of documented white-magic healers before him." Willow hoped he wasn't some distant cousin she had just not yet heard of.
Verendiel brought forth a dress made of green velvet, hemmed with gold embroidery. It looked thick and heavy. Just from looking at it, Willow could tell the skirt would be too long, with too many layers that would balloon up around her as she walked.
She climbed into the dress as if she were climbing into a great mushroom made of fabric. Great, she thought. Ninety percent chance I'll trip on something. Ninety-nine percent chance I'll trip over myself.
Verendiel hiked the skirt up around Willow's waist and pulled her arms through the sleeves. "You never say anything good about the boys I pick for you. I do not know why."
She tightened Willow's corset, forcing a wheeze from her unprepared chest. "I know you love me, but you certainly have a very funny of way of showing it. You should not be so ungrateful. Every time, I go through so much trouble of finding you a worthwhile suitor."
She stepped around to Willow's front and began powdering her face. Willow tried not to sneeze. "You were such a tom boy when you were little. You worried me so much, following your brother around. I thought sending you away for school would fix that. The prospects became far better when you came home. But they dwindle every time you turn another one away."
"You are making this very hard on me." She painted Willow's eyes and lips with brown and pink creams. "I do all this searching because I love you. So you don't even have to lift a finger."
Verendiel stepped back, admiring her work. Willow thought she must look like a clown, or a doll that some small child with no concept of color drew on. "I know what it is. You must really stop letting that black-blood follow you. Queens do not have time to keep pets. It's frivolous and reflects poorly on our court."
She set a golden circlet upon her daughter's head. "I love you, but it's time that you grow up and consider what is good for our family. With your brother gone, you are our only investment. If that black dog continues to hang around you like that, real, more-suitable men will never see you as a potential wife."
"Mother, he's my friend."
"You can find better friends."
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