11. ELEVEN
ELEVEN
Mina
When I wished for more color around the palace, this is not what I had in mind.
Hideous dresses of every hue are posted around a large sitting room like ribboned soldiers. In the center of the silhouette army, an older woman with a tight gray bun fluffs an algae-green skirt. She turns around at the sound of my entrance and rushes to greet me.
“Princess Ardeshir!” Her high-pitched voice is as offensive to my ears as her dresses are to my eyes.
She curtsies deeply, skirts brushing the floor.
“Lady Katherine Devone. It is an honor to be selected as your designer. I’ve brought only the best from my shop and several new designs that I’m sure you’ll make the height of fashion once you debut. ”
I hide my disgust behind a polite smile. “The pleasure is mine. I appreciate the variety you’ve prepared,” I say, careful to select the least offensive words. She is clearly proud of her work, and I don’t have the heart to tell her that Veloria’s fashion trends are the opposite of my taste.
Kalisham clothes are designed to flow with the body, highlighting our strength and offering ease of movement. Not to mention places to hide a weapon. I suppose the voluminous monsters around me could hide a blade, but I have yet to figure out how one would retrieve it in haste.
“Of course. One can never have too many dresses.” She claps her hands, and two younger women materialize from behind a wide skirt.
“If there is a dress you wish to start with, please let me know. We will dress you in each, then take measurements and have the orders delivered as soon as possible. Holley and Trisha will assist you out of your…” Her eyes travel over the dirt stains on my makeshift outfit.
To her credit, she tries to hide her disdain behind a tight smile. “Attire.”
“Whichever you recommend starting with is fine.” I have no intention of selecting any of these gowns, but I can humor the woman for a few moments until Jaime arrives. It would be rude to dismiss her outright.
The designers flutter around talking among themselves.
I wonder if they are related somehow. They share the same curvy, tall frames and light brown complexions.
Trisha’s brown wavy hair is held back by a blue ribbon, and Holley’s is neatly braided into a circle. Not a bad place to stash a small blade.
I carefully assess each of their movements until I’m confident they aren’t hiding any weapons.
Trisha pulls a gown from its stand, while Holley brings an armful of strange garments and sets them on the chaise. She attempts to help me out of my dress, but I stop her, unwrapping the fabric myself, careful to remove my dagger without revealing it.
She holds a lined string across my breasts, hips, and limbs before writing down each measurement on a loose paper.
“We only brought a few undergarments, but they should fit. Will you be needing to order some along with the dresses?” Lady Katherine studies my nudity with concern.
“Undergarments? You wear clothes under your clothes?”
All three women freeze at my comment and share a confused glance. Lady Katherine clears her throat. “We utilize several layers to ensure the dresses fit properly.”
Holley pulls a few items from the pile on the small couch behind me. A strapless wrap that ties in the back and half pants that cinch at the waist, made of delicate cotton so thin it’s practically see-through.
So women here do wear pants, just hidden under skirts. Why would anyone subject themselves to all these extra layers?
Perhaps the underclothes are for warmth in the colder months. Layers are hardly necessary back home; nights grow cold, but nothing as severe as what these northerners are accustomed to with the snow. But it is the warm season right now.
Partly to humor the women and partly out of curiosity, I let them dress me. The pants are nothing special, but the top has to be some sick humor. Holley pulls at the strings as the garment strangles my torso, stealing the air from my lungs with each violent tug.
“I can hardly breathe,” I gasp. Holley secures the strings of the torture device and flashes me a sympathetic smile.
Lady Katherine tsks at my complaint with a smile. “The corset has been in fashion for several years. I assure you it’s perfectly safe. You’ll be used to it in no time.”
My breasts pulse in pain as the corset pushes them up and out. My ribs feel shackled as I adjust to shallow breaths and mentally curse the garment. I marvel at both the strength and the ignorance of anyone who wears this daily.
A corset leaves no room for maneuvering, but for a realm with no female warriors that probably isn’t a concern.
Trisha slides three fluffy skirts and a full dress over my head, buttoning up the back with practiced ease. They wheel out a large mirror, revealing a yellow monstrosity that looks remarkably like me.
The dress has a high neckline that fails to show the cleavage they worked so hard to produce. Long sleeves flare out at my wrists in ruffles that match the ones at the bottom of the full skirt.
I twirl, walking a few feet back and forth, baffled by the rigidity of the garments. Oh, how my sisters would’ve enjoyed mocking such a piece. I close my eyes and picture them at my side. The ghost of their laughter fills my mind, and I can’t hide the smile that breaks free.
Lady Katherine gives a thrilled little clap, mistaking my smile for approval. “You look gorgeous, Your Highness.”
“Thank you. Do you have anything less constricting? A shorter sleeve perhaps?”
“Of course.” She claps and her assistants swap the yellow dress for a deep red gown without the extra skirt layers.
A floral embroidered bodice gives way to soft rows of velvet that drape to the floor in a swirl.
Beautiful if one ignores the massive balls of fabric attached to the shoulders in the place of sleeves.
Volume seems to be a popular feature for some unfathomable reason. It certainly does nothing to enhance the beauty of a woman’s figure. Or maybe just not mine. Still, I can make something like this work with a few adjustments.
I give the gown a twirl and decide it is the safest option for now.
My ribs ache as I bend to adjust the pooled fabric.
My patience for the corset has run its course, but I stand my ground.
I let them dress me in another eight gowns that are in competition to see who can incorporate the most ribbon.
Day dresses and evening dresses, I assess each one for flexibility.
Sweat lightly soaks my undergarments, and I realize they are probably easier to wash than the full dress. With such thick fabrics year-round, the under layer is rather genius.
“Do you have a nightgown?” I ask in hopes the phrase means the same thing here as it does back home.
Lady Katherine walks to a chest and digs around until she produces a thin white gown that by the moon’s grace has no volume. “This is all I have, I’m afraid. I wasn’t informed you’d need night attire.”
“My personal items are still being brought to this room. I’ll change into that.”
“We still have another fourteen dresses for you to try on, Your Highness,” she stammers.
“No need. I have a decent enough understanding of the designs. I’ll view the rest as they are on the stands.”
A flash of annoyance crinkles her brow before she offers a polite smile. “Of course, Your Highness. Ladies.” She claps and her assistants jump to work again.
Trisha removes the dress and circles to the back of the corset. She pulls at the ribbons until the vise surrenders its grip. I suck in a full breath of air, grateful to be free at last. They keep the pants on and pull the nightgown over my head.
It is a simple soft fabric that covers me from neck to knee. I hate it. I would be more comfortable in the nude at this point, but I want to keep the dressmaker happy enough to comply with my requests. “Perfect. Thank you.”
I wander through the silhouette army and pretend to assess each dress. I rule out anything with a structured hoop skirt or an obsessive amount of frill. Only two designs remain, and I will have to alter them a bit. “I’ll take the red gown I tried on and the dark blue one here.”
Lady Katherine notes the order on a slip of paper, pen hovering over the sheet as she looks at me expectantly. “Excellent choices, Your Highness. Which others would you like to order?”
“Just those two and the garments I’m wearing now. And no order. I’ll take the two dresses now since they fit already.”
She blinks twice, her mouth opening and shutting in a most unladylike fashion. “I beg your pardon, Your Highness, but I was instructed to give you a full wardrobe. Two dresses are simply not enough. You’ll need at least three a day depending on the scheduled activities.”
I pretend to give the dresses a second thought. “I’m afraid nothing else suits my taste. While I appreciate this is the fashion here in Veloria, I have no intention of abandoning the clothing I’m accustomed to.”
“Lady Katherine is the premier designer in Veloria, Your Highness. You’d be hard-pressed to find any better options elsewhere,” Holley defends.
I unleash my full smile at how easily the conversation flows in my favor. “I’m sure such an esteemed seamstress will be able to produce designs from Kalisham upon my request then. I am happy to sketch out the concept behind the pieces I’d like to order.”
Lady Katherine’s face turns red, and the young women exchange tight smiles. She looks ready to protest, her pride formulating a defense. But pride is easy to guide.
“The emperor insisted we include traditions from both our homes for the wedding, so it would be excellent practice for my wedding dress. Our designs are simpler, but the detail work requires a skilled hand.”
Designing the wedding dress of the century is quite the opal to dangle. The tension in her shoulders disappears and her eyes shine with a spark of greed.
“It would be an honor to design your wedding dress, Your Highness,” she says with a curtsy.