A Month of Metamorphosis

A Month of Metamorphosis (rough draft v2)

The days began to blend into a harmonious rhythm, each morning bringing new lessons and each evening wrapping Jacob in the comforting arms of Eldralorian luxuries. The month was a transformative experience, a cocoon of warmth, beauty, and tradition that gradually stripped away his previous notions and anxieties.

With the rising sun, his tutors ushered him into his study—a room awash in soft pastel hues, evocative of the Eldralorian sky. Manuscripts detailing the history of the kingdom, etiquette books, and scrolls illustrating family crests filled the shelves. Here, under the tutelage of Lady Elara, Sera, and Mira, he learned the nuances of Eldralorian speech, how to gracefully navigate social settings, and the significance of various cultural rituals. All the while getting more lessons on how it was inseparable from their clothing, jewelry, and body art.

In the afternoons, they took him on tours of the palace and its exquisite gardens. They introduced him to the flora unique to Eldralore, explaining the symbolism behind each bloom, tree, and vine. He felt himself falling in love with the kingdom's natural beauty, as each day revealed another layer of its rich tapestry.

But the evenings were his favorite part. When the sky turned to a wash of oranges and pinks, he was led to a room filled with plush loungers and soft cushions. Candles scented with lavender and chamomile flickered in the corners, their aroma mingling with the evening air to produce an intoxicating blend of serenity. Here, he was taught how to unwind like an Eldralorian noblewoman, discovering the joys of herbal teas, intricate hand-stitched quilts, and even short sessions of guided meditation.

Comfort became second nature to him—another language he was quickly mastering. He felt his previous self, once tense and closed-off, unraveling in the face of these cozy comforts.

By the end of the month, Jacob sensed he had laid a robust foundation, an understanding of the delicate intricacies that composed Eldralorian culture. Now it was time to build upon it.

"Ah, Jacob, you look more relaxed than I've ever seen you," Lady Elara noted one day, smiling approvingly. "It seems you're becoming quite accustomed to our way of life."

"Thank you, Lady Elara. I do feel a change," he admitted, almost surprised at how easily the words came out, laced with a newfound confidence as he spoke not in the common trade language but the native tongue of his new home.

"Then you're ready for the next phase of your journey," Sera chimed in, her eyes shining with excitement. "Come, let's proceed to the salon."

The salon was a marvel—a lavish chamber adorned with gilded mirrors and filled with the scent of exotic oils. His next lessons commenced in earnest. They introduced him to the art of hair styling, delving into the history and techniques behind the luxurious locks seen in Eldralorian courts. He learned about braiding, curling, and creating the exotic styles they were known for, each style imparting a different message and suitable for different occasions.

Due to his current status and his previous one he was allowed to decide if he wanted the standard 'lady in waiting' style or the style of the sect of warrior women that Eldralorian ambassadors were always astonished the other kingdoms did not have an equivalent of. For the time being he picked the war braids of the sect, wanting to keep something of who he used to be, he was surprised to learn that the braids were not just for moral or looks, they were used to hide several hold out weapons, lock picks, and fire starting kits. All hidden in an elegant style with matching 'jewelry'. The water or the solutions in the baths must have done something to his hair as it had never grown this fast, it being this long in only a few months was the only reason the he could take these lessons and wear the styles. Even more strangely the hair growth returned to a normal rate once it reached full length.

Makeup followed. From the eyeliner that accentuated the wisdom in one's eyes to the blush that suggested a rosy outlook on life, each application had a story and rhythm to it he could tell was made to help those given the lessons growing up to remember them easier. By the time they were done, Jacob felt as if his face told a story, a story that many noble maidens wore after their first successful lesson.

Finally, the focus shifted to flexibility exercises. Sera took the lead, explaining how exotic dancing was interwoven into the fabric of Eldralorian relationships. While he wasn't yet ready for the actual dance lessons, flexibility would be key in mastering the art. Foreplay often started with an erotic dance together or later with one party giving the other a show before moving on to other foreplay.

Days were filled with stretching routines, posture exercises, and movement drills that had him sweating but elated. He felt his body become limber, more fluid—another step closer to the person he was becoming.

"Remember," Sera said, during one of the exercises, "dancing is not just a form of entertainment. In Eldralore, it's an intimate expression, a dialogue between two souls. You are learning a new language, one your future husband will certainly appreciate. You want him to want you, he needs to know you are his and he is yours. This treaty counts on you two being wed and staying happily so."

It was the end of three months now and it felt like a milestone. Looking into the mirror, he saw a reflection that was at once familiar and new—like a well-loved book he had read many times, but each time discovering something new. He was Jacob, but he was also becoming something else—something wonderfully Eldralorian.

As he lay in his sumptuous bed, enveloped in silken sheets and scented pillows, he thought about the upcoming dance lessons. It excited him, he knew he was moving closer and closer to a day that he still had mixed feeling of, but every day here just felt more right than the days at home in a land full of cold restraint and hidden joy you had to ferret out where you could find it. He would do his best to be ready but there was still a sinking feeling in his stomach that the other shoe was about to drop.