Four Weddings and a Fable (Starling Vale #2)

1. Lissy

LISSY

Most wedding dresses are not made with centaurs in mind.

And the worst part is, I should have known better than to try to make a bipedal wedding dress work for a quadruped. Especially one as big as Kentaria.

I frown around the pins sticking out of my mouth as I try to tighten the satin bodice on my centaur client.

I tug and pull as much as I can while also trying not to tear the silky white organza that makes up the train of the dress.

The dress looks beautiful around her shoulders and bosom, her human parts, but as her torso becomes more horse-ish, the dress needs more girth to fit properly.

Unfortunately, the simple truth is that this dress does not fit her at all.

And don't get me started on how I'll need to add to the back of the dress to make it long enough to cover her haunches.

In hindsight, I should have used that potion before Kentaria even arrived, so I wouldn't have this awkward moment where my client is freaking out that her dress doesn't fit.

With all of the different creatures that live here, it's a common enough thing to do for a dress shop in Starling Vale.

Poor Kentaria looks like she's about to burst into tears, and it's not her fault.

"I'm so sorry, Lissy," she says, her voice wavering as she smooths down the front fabric. "I should have chosen a different dress, but…"

"Shh." There's no way the back of the dress is coming together without that spell, so I might as well stop making it worse for both of us by trying.

Kentaria should feel like a princess right now, so I give her a light pat on the back, come down from my stepstool, and meet her eyes in the mirror.

"You fell in love with this dress, right? "

She nods.

"Just like you love Deric?" I press, mentioning the name of her stalwart, warrior fiancé, who is a centaur just like her.

She nods again.

I smile warmly and take the pins out of my mouth and poke them into the pin cushion that's on a side table. "Then this is the dress for your fairytale wedding. It just needs a little help to make it absolutely perfect for its bride. Which is true of any wedding dress."

"You think so?" she asks, and the hopeful note in her voice makes my job worthwhile, even though it can be stressful sometimes.

"Oh, yes," I tell her seriously with a wink as I dig into one of the many pockets on my apron, specifically the one that has the fabric-grower potion. "This is what alterations are for, after all. And I have the potion to fix it just right here…"

My fingers close around the vial, and I take it out, adding a little theatre to my methods in hopes of making the centaur smile.

Except…

Oh. Shit!

I realize my mistake immediately. The vial is empty, and I'm so caught off guard by it, I can't keep the shock from my face, which is reflected in the mirror that Kentaria can see right away.

I'm out of the fabric-grower potion. Shit, I completely forgot I ran out yesterday when I needed to use the last of it to make a bridesmaid dress fit a troll.

I'd been so distracted by another customer who came in that I had completely forgotten to go out to Noemi's shop this morning and replenish my stock.

And poor Kentaria is paying the price.

I recover enough to offer her a smile. "Well, I guess this goes to show that yours is not the only dress that needs some fabric.

It's incredibly common," I add with a laugh, which rewards me with a hopeful nod from her.

"So don't worry. If you'll give me five minutes, I can get the materials to make this alteration, and we'll be in a good spot for your wedding. "

She blinks. "Yes, yes, of course."

I nod toward my ever-hot teapot sitting on a small tray in the corner, steam still rising from the spout. "Some tea while you wait?"

"Yes, please, if it's not too much trouble." She gestures to the dress. "Do you have something to cover this? Wouldn't want to spill tea on it."

"Of course not," I say soothingly, as I grab a smock and secure it around her.

Unlike the dress, this was made for all different kinds of creatures, so there is plenty of room to cover her up.

I kick the mirror with my boot and a red velvety curtain falls, blocking her view.

I may try to make everything look pretty during the fitting, but a smock is not the most attractive thing, especially when you're trying to make a bride-to-be feel like the prettiest girl in the world.

An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, my grammy always says.

Humming softly to calm Kentaria's nerves, I pour some tea into one of the waiting teacups. I add two cookies from Sweetie Pies to the saucer and bring it back to Kentaria with a warm smile. "Here you are."

"Oh, I shouldn't have cookies," she says, a blush warming her cheeks. "I am trying to lose weight."

I cluck my tongue conspiratorially. "Ah, but these are cookies from Arabella's Sweetie Pies. You can eat a whole trayful of these and not gain an ounce, I promise. They're from her mother's spell book."

Her mouth makes a little o as she takes a cookie and gives it a bite. Her eyes flutter back and I stifle a laugh. Arabella's treats always have that effect on everyone.

"I'll be right back," I promise, setting the saucer within her reach. I back out of my little dress shop with a wave, open the door, and I'm outside.

I turn around and smooth out my skirts, taking stock of the busy street. I should have taken my apron off before I left, but oh well. Everyone knows who I am and what I do anyway.

My little dress shop, Lissy's Bridal Boutique, sits on the busiest street in Starling Vale, sandwiched in between Arabella's Sweetie Pies and June's Tavern.

It means that there is plenty of foot traffic to keep us busy every single day, but it also means that there is never a dull moment.

Fairies flit to and fro in the sky while wagons and carriages jostle along the cobblestone street.

Humans, elves, fairies, ogres, giants, and more crowd the road, nearly bringing all traffic to a standstill.

Shit. This will take longer than five minutes.

My destination, Noemi's spell shop, is only two blocks down, but I have to join the fray in order to make my way there.

"Well, Lissy," I mutter, quickly pinning up my braid in a quick bun, "better get to it."

So, I hike up my skirts with a huff and go out into the crowd, fighting my way there while trying to make it look like I'm cordial and not hurrying. No one likes a dressmaker who is a grump – especially when their main business is wedding dresses – so my reputation is on the line.

"Excuse me… Excuse me… Pardon me… Whoops, sorry!" That last one is me bumping into a fruit cart and nearly knocking over the display of apples. I manage to catch the lone stray apple that does get some airtime. "Sorry about that, Mr. Dapplebeam!" I cry as I replace it on its perch.

"Don't worry about it, Lissy," Mr. Dapplebeam replies with a chuckle. He's a willowy druid with green-grey skin that almost looks like bark, and he dwarfs my short stature. "In a rush today?"

"Wedding dress emergency!" I exclaim with a passing wave as I dive back into the fray.

"Aren't they all emergencies, Lissy?" I hear Mr. Dapplebeam joke at my back as I continue my way down the street.

It takes several minutes, an elbow to my gut, a splash of mud from a wagon wheel, and a flurry of "good days" to those I know in between my "excuse mes," which aren't as cordial as I'd like.

It's not that I don't want to say hi to them – it's just that I'm feeling too guilty for not having gotten this potion sooner so I could ease Kentaria's worry.

Starling Vale is exceptionally crowded today, and I'm not sure why. Is there some sort of festival that I forgot about? Or maybe someone of importance is visiting?

I should really know these things, especially since I would have been hired for dresswear for important engagements. I swear, my absent-mindedness is going to get the best of me.

Finally, finally, I make it to Noemi's shop, and I find the handle and push myself in.

"Noemi, I need a spell – oh my gods!"

The toe of my boot catches on the threshold of the doorway, and I trip, taking three too-big steps with my arms cartwheeling while I try to find something – anything – solid to hold onto.

My hands grab some fabric, 120-thread-count heavy linen by the feel of it, and I hold on to pull myself up. Except that heavy linen fabric is a part of a tunic that belongs to…

I look up and find myself staring up into mahogany brown eyes that I don't recognize. The brown eyes are framed by thick, dark eyebrows, moss-green skin, chiseled cheekbones, and two tusks protruding from a mouth that is frowning down at me.

I've stumbled into an orc. A big one, and if I weren't stunned by my near-fall, I would be terrified to be in his presence. Orcs pass through Starling Vale every so often, but they don't live here and I don't see them that often.

As such, I don't recognize the orc that I've stumbled into.

Instead, I just stare up at him, dumbfounded.

"May I help you?" The low rumble of his voice straddles the line between menacing and soothing, and in my dazed state, I can't decide which one it is.

"No," I say. "Thank you for catching me."

"Can you kindly take your hand off me?"

The annoyance in his voice knocks me out of my shock, and I stand bolt upright and finally let go of the death grip that I have on his shirt. "Sorry! I'm so sorry."

Standing, I see that he's nearly two heads taller than me, with at least seventy pounds of muscle on his huge frame.

Probably a warrior of some sort, although I don't really know.

War and battle have always seemed so far from my world of dresses that I never paid much attention to them, and orcs are rarely in Starling Vale, let alone my shop.

My grammy says I should care more for world politics, except I hate dealing with the politics of it all.