Chapter 13
Thirteen
Dress to Impress
White linen was draped over every window and chair, stark against the dark wood of the building. Tree branches sprouted from the floor, and on them hung displays of fabrics. Between the branches stood wooden dress forms, clothed in what must have been Autumn Court fashions.
Just like Schula wore, there were many loose tunics that tied at the sides and tight leggings that extended all the way to the ankle, buttoning or lacing against the leg.
I looked down at my breeches. They stopped at the top of my calf, then I put on my tall wool stockings and the boots that came to my knees.
Schula’s boots were shorter. So were Thain’s.
“Welcome. What brings you to my humble shop, Master Thain and company?” A tall fae with the nose of a deer and small budding antlers glided over to us. Her nose twitched like an animal scenting the air around her.
“We’re here for this one.” Schula pulled me forward. “How soon could we have something ready to meet Baeleon? Nothing terribly formal, but we need it today.”
The tailor’s eyes narrowed to me. She seemed to be measuring me with her eyes. “I have many pieces that would fit her with little altering. Yes, I think I have options for you, dear. Maribell!”
A short, panicked girl with black down-feather hair rushed from behind a table of fabric in the back of the store.
“Yes, mistress.” She halted by the doe fae’s side.
“Settle this party in the large room and bring me the smaller-sized collection we just finished.”
“Which pieces, ma’am?” The small fae squeaked at the sharp look from her mistress. “Right, yes, the new collection. All of it. Right away. Please follow me.”
“Hello, Maribell.” Schula smiled at the assistant. “Do you remember me?”
“Of course, Lady Schula.” The petite tailor smiled once we were out of sight of her mistress. “You go through tunics like a growing young male. I’m glad to see you well.”
“She wouldn’t go through that many if she would wear things more than once,” Thain added, earning an icy glare.
Maribell did what she could to contain her smile, but it still slipped through the cracks. I liked her immediately.
“Here is the large room. Can I send in anything while I gather your clothes? Tea, perhaps?” Maribel beamed up at Schula.
“No, thank you,” she said. “Good luck with Mistress Rhisa.”
Maribell nodded and scurried away. Thain, Schula, and I took a seat on the white chairs in the room. A section in the corner provided a spacious curtained changing area behind a large screen, and several mirrors hung at angles against one wall.
“The tailor seems harsh,” I whispered.
“Mistress Rhisa has always been that way. But she makes the most comfortable things.” Schula smoothed her tunic with a hand.
“Maribell at least makes a very good wage here, even if she has to put up with Rhisa’s eccentricities.
Don’t worry about Maribell. She could open her own shop at any time, but she chooses to stay here to learn from the best.”
I’d noticed the differences in some of the fae, but this was the first time I was meeting any of the more animal-looking ones in person. “Are the shop workers here different kinds of fae from you two?” I asked.
“Yes and no,” answered Thain. “But it’s taken centuries to get us all away from one another’s throats. Now it’s considered in bad taste to point out who is one kind of fae and who isn’t.”
“Not that it doesn’t happen anyway,” Schula grumbled.
I wasn’t given much time to think about the social structure of the fae types before Maribell burst back into the room with armfuls of clothing.
She shifted her stack around until her hands were free enough to clap twice.
My jaw dropped as branches sprouted from the walls and Maribell began hanging clothing up.
Three times she came in and brought clothing to us.
On her last trip in, she was followed by the doe fae.
“Mistress Rhisa will now guide you through the fitting,” Maribell announced, but she stayed in a nearby corner, ready to help.
Mistress Rhisa had gentle hands, despite her demeanor. The fine lines of her face reminded me of all the places that wrinkled when Mila was concentrating on something, though Rhisa had far smoother skin otherwise.
“Let’s see what we’re working with, dear,” Rhisa announced, tugging my wrist and pulling me across to the changing space. Within minutes, she had piled cloth across a branch by the screen and pulled me behind it. “Off with the old, on with the better.”
“Wait.” I clutched at my clothes. “I can do this on my own, please!”
My marks, she would expose my marks. I had been a fool to get this comfortable, this complacent until I understood more about what this seal meant here.
“Shy.” She tsked and shook her head, bony fingers still making their way to the laces on my clothes.
“Mistress!” The curtain slid open just enough for a white shape to slip through. “I will assist as well. I just remembered I wanted to speak with you about a new coat.”
All the breath fell out of me, and the tension with it.
Schula placed herself firmly at my back, even as she began working at my laces as well.
Her eyes didn’t leave Mistress Rhisa as she described the desire for an embroidered coat that would match some dress she’d had made recently.
Even though she didn’t meet my eyes, a cool hand cupped one of my shoulders and gave it a gentle squeeze.
What followed next was a masterful whirlwind of being posed, stripped, and dressed again. Satins and silks draped my bony frame, all of them cinched to my waist with more ties like those on Schula’s tunics.
Mistress Rhisa was a master of her craft.
I might not have known much about tailoring beyond repairing the breeches and tunics of the mountain people, but I could see her expert eye catch at every bit of her work that didn’t sit precisely where she wanted it to.
“Too short. Too loose. Wrong color. Not with those freckles—Stars, no. That color does you no favors. Perhaps buttons. Longer skirts.”
“She has a preference for pants over dresses I think, mistress,” Schula added.
“Noted,” was Rhisa’s short reply as she practically ripped a shawl from me and slid a tunic over my head.
“Don’t I need something, I don’t know, formal? To meet a king?” I sputtered through the silk being shoved over me.
“Yes, a formal pant. That’s what she said,” Rhisa quipped. “Elbows in.”
“But usually dresses are—” I closed my mouth as this new tunic was torn from me and a pair of brown pants shoved over my feet.
“Is that a human trait? Dresses are formal?” Schula asked.
“What nonsense.” Rhisa snorted.
“Um, I guess so?” I helped slip the high waist of the pants over my hips. “I’ve rarely worn a dress before yesterday, and never one so nice.”
“The formality of what you wear is dictated by the cloth it is made of and what embellishments adorn it. In Thanantholl, a silk tunic is more formal than a cotton dress,” Schula explained. “Here you wear what makes you comfortable, what you like.”
“There, that is presentable enough.” Mistress Rhisa tugged my arm and pulled me from behind the screen. “This one, I am happy with. I could have it ready within the hour.”
I stumbled behind the tailor and stopped abruptly. Thain still lounged on the seat, and Schula came around me to join him as she flopped onto the cushions. I stood up straight, and Schula whistled. Thain simply stared in that unblinking way of his.
“Masterfully done, mistress.” Schula applauded and twirled a finger in demand that I turn around to show off all sides of the clothing. “I would never have guessed it wasn’t custom-made for her.”
“You should go to the wall of mirrors, dear, though I’m sure this is exactly what you want.” Rhisa’s nose turned up as she took a spot on the wall. Maribell gathered rejected garments and scurried away with them.
The mirrors showed me a new person. The cream-colored satin held a sheen that made my skin glow.
It bloused at my breasts, giving an illusion of fullness that I didn’t quite have on my own.
My waist, already narrow, was tied with golden cords that wrapped around me twice.
The full sleeves gathered at my wrists with more gold, and the shirt fell to the middle of my thighs.
The black pants were of a fine leather, the thin belly skin of some creature I didn’t know.
The outer seam split at my knees and laced with a cream ribbon that glued the whole thing to my form.
I stood in my bare feet, my stockings and boots gone.
“What do you think?” Schula asked.
“I love it.” And I meant it, but I cringed at the price of specially tailored clothes. “How much?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Schula said. “Baeleon loves to spoil his guests. Don’t take this from him.”
“We’ll take it,” Thain announced. “And three more like it, in whatever colors you see fit, mistress. Cotton or linen. I’ll pay your courier well for the trouble.”
Schula leaned back and shot a peculiar look at Thain before a slow smile spread across her lips.
“Don’t you get in on this too,” I began.
“Very good!” Rhisa seemed pleased with herself, and more than ready to stop my protests before she could lose any business. “We will have them by the end of the week. To your address, Master Thain?”
The dark fae nodded and stood. I slipped behind the screen to put my own clothes back on and left the new outfit on an empty branch.
“Thank you for visiting the Dancing Willow.” Rhisa swept her limbs into a delicate bow, and Maribell saw us onto the street.
“Thank you for your patronage!” Maribell called before gently shutting the door behind us.
“Well, that was something.” Schula patted my back. “Why don’t we look around for a while before your clothing is ready?”
Thain stretched his right arm and rolled his neck. “It’s too crowded here.”
“Busybodies,” Schula stated. “And none of them will keep me from finding out what smells so good in that soapery.”
She had no problem walking away, giving us little choice but to follow.
Eyes raked across us as though there were something here to be gawked at.
Me. A performer in a band of players. The shops around the Dancing Willow swept away my annoyance quickly, though.
Windows full of finely crafted items surrounded me.
I let out a sigh and stepped forward. How could I be mad when I was as curious about Thanantholl as it was about me?
“What’s that place?” I pointed to a low yellow building with a fat, smoky chimney.
“A tea parlor. You can have a cup and sit down to enjoy it,” Schula said. “Or browse the shelves and buy some to take home.”
“Can we look in there?” I asked. The only tea I ever drank was made from native mountain plants. Usually ones I had gathered myself. Even our stores on the road had been gathered from the mountains before we’d left the outpost, and I was eager to try more flavors of the fae city.
“Of course.” Thain led us through the doors and into a world of scents.
Fat jars lined the walls, filled with dried leaves and flowers.
I stopped to smell each one, and Schula ordered us all a pot of tea sweetened with honey.
Thain sat at a table and waited for Schula and me to finish browsing.
We enjoyed our tea, and Schula traded me a little bit of human money for a shiny silver fae coin.
She said it was a new oddity to add to her collection of world travels.
The tree sprite that worked the counter somehow completed every transaction without saying a word, and we eventually walked out, me with a bag of teas I had never seen before.
Pearl Street continued to ensnare me. It showed me a side of the fae that would have enchanted anyone.
Even the hardened people of the mountains.
Delicacies and drinks could be discovered on every corner.
The shops were full of mesmerizing goods, and the fae that crafted them were overjoyed to show me how they were made.
There were spices to smell, books in foreign tongues to read, and art to see.
We went into a narrow shop where Schula bought me a pair of sensible black boots like hers.
They came only a handbreadth above my ankle, a completely different feel from my tall mountain boots.
We watched a sculptor in his window as he traced the delicate lines of a swooping bird out of clay.
A metalsmith displayed a silver set of woodcarving gouges, and I clutched my tunic over my heart.
I wished Bryn could have seen them: they were so beautiful and sharp, and he could have carved wonders with them.
Then out of nowhere, the tears fell. It distressed Thain, Schula, the shopkeeper, and myself greatly until I could sort myself out and explain.
Finally, Thain bought us all a round of bread, stuffed like a pocket with meat and sauce. We sat on the edge of a fountain to eat.
“Once we’re done here, we should pick up your new clothes and go,” Thain said.
“I need to change too.” Schula looked down at her linen tunic. “I don’t suppose this is up to Baeleon’s standards.”
“No, you go on ahead. Wren and I can meet you and Eberon at the grotto.” Thain took a large bite of his lunch, fangs easily tearing through the meat.
Schula glanced at me, her face impassive, but her hand reaching out to pat my back told me everything I needed to know about where her mind was. “You’re right. Baeleon is sharp, I’ll have to mind that when I dress. Maybe a few extra jewels, to distract.”
Thain’s brow knit, looking at Schula. But my eyes blew wide, my mind racing through the clothes I now had available to wear.
Suddenly, I was beyond thankful for Schula’s help in the dressing room, because not only had she helped me hide the mark from the tailors, she’d ensured I had things that would cover them.
Especially from a king, who’d likely had a hand in this dispute with the witches.
“Thank you both for today,” I said. “I promise to pay you back when I get settled.”
“Enough of that.” Schula stood and stretched. “I’ll see you later, don’t let him get you riled up. There is no reason to be nervous, the court will be very surprised to meet you. Pleased, but surprised.”
“That’s an understatement,” Thain mumbled.
Wonderful. The center of attention. Just where I wanted to be.
“All right.” I sighed. “Let’s go.”