Chapter 8 #2
Elise had perfected the bodice to suit Morgaine’s rather respectable sense of taste.
The piece reached only mid-bosom and it had laces in front that could be loosened or tightened depending on the level of enticement one might prefer for the day.
It was a piece unlikely to pass unnoticed and, if Elise had to be honest, a threat to the decency she had learned back in Noldrin.
After finishing the last stitches and putting her needle and thread back in the drawer, Elise hurried to the kitchen, where a pot of stew had been simmering in preparation for Morgaine’s return.
The witch disappeared for hours each day and returned with an appetite of a rather voracious nature, often leaving barely a spoonful for Elise.
Fearing this would be one of those evenings, she filled herself a generous bowl of the porridge and blew on it in haste, hoping to finish before Morgaine arrived.
The dish was still boiling, but Elise’s tongue had quickly adapted to such temperatures in order to avoid hunger. Every slurp took Elise to heaven, and it seemed to her, this was her best stew yet.
She smiled, remembering the ingredients and portions, and made a mental note to repeat the feat for future suppers.
The secret was in adding the onions and garlic at just the right time for the flavor to settle into the meat.
Then the potatoes came in to sweeten the whole thing and lend a bit of thickness to the broth.
Elise made sure to clean the corners of her mouth as she rushed to finish her bowl and add more water to the pot, so as to make it seem she hadn’t already helped herself to a generous portion of the meal.
She didn’t even need to go to the nearby well to fetch water.
Morgaine said the dwarf who had built the house had also created a system for water to run through pipes for both the house and the garden.
This had been, to Elise, the most fascinating discovery since her arrival.
The more she understood about the hidden magic of the world, the less inclined she felt to return to the life she had known.
Mysterious and dangerous as the magical world appeared, it had so far shown itself no worse than finding lodging in Metz.
Just as Elise was drying her bowl and setting it on the cabinet with the others, a strong gust of wind blew the door open. She knew at once it had not been a good day for Morgaine.
The witch’s foul moods showed themselves in brief conversation and hurried meals.
On such days, Morgaine preferred the company of her potions to that of Elise, but Elise had learned to draw her back with a well-timed indulgence.
Today, she had prepared a pie with fruit from the stunt apple tree behind the house.
She needed only to keep Morgaine content through supper, then entice her to follow her to the Tailor’s Room, where Elise was certain the witch’s mood would improve at once.
“I have a surprise for you, Morgaine,” Elise said, unable to contain a hint of excitement, just as Morgaine was finishing half the pie.
“Another dress suited for royalty?” Morgaine said with a faint smile.
Elise shook her head. “This one is meant for you. I call it A Night Out.”
“Ha,” the witch laughed. “That I have to see.”
With Morgaine’s spirits already improved by Elise’s enthusiasm, Elise led her to the room where the audacious dress stood on a padded mannequin, ready to provoke a reaction.
“For the devil’s sins!” Morgaine exclaimed at the sight of the dress. “You did this with those pious hands of yours?”
Elise nodded, pleased. A sense of relief and pride settled over her.
She was beginning to understand Morgaine’s sense of style, and with it the allure of so many Bromheim women.
Virtue, it seemed, differed from kingdom to kingdom, beginning with clothing and ending in matters where clothing was of little use.
“Why don’t you try it,” Elise said as Morgaine ran her fingers along the hems of the bodice.
The witch turned to her with a mischievous smile and said nothing. Elise watched, curious at first, then less so as the silence lingered. The longer Morgaine inspected the dress and glanced at her from time to time, the less certain Elise felt things would go her way.
She had noticed that Morgaine liked to try new designs and, when in such high spirits, enjoyed sharing her stories with any willing ear.
Elise had not discouraged this, and by now she was well acquainted with the war and a fair portion of the local lore.
But now Morgaine was dangerously quiet, as if an idea were just beginning to simmer in her mind, and she suspected the witch had been kind enough to include her in it.
Morgaine finally spoke, sparing Elise from accumulating further worries about her host’s intentions.
“I need you to go to the city,” Morgaine said. “And I would like nothing better than to see you make your entrance in something more suited to the fashions of these lands.”
“What?”
“Wear the dress, dear,” Morgaine said plainly.
Elise almost blushed after one glance at the low neckline of the blouse. “But…the dress is made for you.”
Morgaine shook her head. “From what I can see, it would suit you just as well.”
“But, madam…” Elise hesitated, already imagining the walk through town in such revealing attire. After all, her morals had yet to make the journey from Noldrin.
“It will be a first test,” Morgaine added. “I’ll give you a potion to protect you.”
“My first test to become a witch?” Elise gasped.
“You don’t like to waste time, do you?” Morgaine said. “We’ll start with something simple. Then we’ll see.”