Post by Mercedes de las Aragonia on Apr 27, 2008 14:28:40 GMT -5
I was out exploring with Marie, walking around the clothier’s district, when I saw it. It was my gown for Beltane. Or almost, in any case.
We went into the quiet store, and I set upon the young store keep. “The black gown in the window, I would like it made to my measurements. Keep the embroidery pattern the same, but do it in fire colours. Please,” I added when I realized how I had rattled off the orders.
“Of… of course my lady,” she stammered. “Though if you need it for Beltane, our seamstress is booked solid.”
“The correct term is your highness,” I replied gently, pulling rank. I felt bad when I realized that my title had rattled her even more. “I’ll compensate you for the hurry.”
“Yes your highness,” she managed. “If you’ll… if you’ll just follow me to the back, to get your measurements.”
I removed my gown behind a curtain, leaving my underclothing on. “I’ll need a jacket too, something that covers my shoulders,” I continued, emerging to stand where she indicated. Her rope snaked around my body, pressing the thin material of my shift against my skin.
“Of course. I don’t… don’t know if you noticed your highness, but there is netting beneath the skirt. Would you like to keep it black? Or perhaps a red would be more appropriate for on the dance floor?” Her stammering began to disappear as she concentrated on the task at hand.
I smiled and replied warmly. “Red would be lovely, thank you for the suggestion. Though keep the jacket black.”
Once she was finished I emerged from behind the curtain fully clothed once more to find her sketching. “You’re the seamstress?” I asked in surprise.
She nodded. “My mother and I take turns minding the shop and stitching. It would be an honour to do your gown.” When I nodded with an approving smile she showed me her sketch. “I didn’t bother with the gown but here is what I had in mind for the jacket.”
It was made of black linen, only long enough to skim the top of the gown’s neckline so that it covered the skin I wanted but still showed off the embroidery. The sleeves ended just above the elbow, a single orange and yellow flower embroidered on the end of the left sleeve. “It looks perfect,” I praised, liking how I would be able to wear it later with different outfits. “Have the bill sent up to the palace to Mercedes de las Aragonia.”
We went into the quiet store, and I set upon the young store keep. “The black gown in the window, I would like it made to my measurements. Keep the embroidery pattern the same, but do it in fire colours. Please,” I added when I realized how I had rattled off the orders.
“Of… of course my lady,” she stammered. “Though if you need it for Beltane, our seamstress is booked solid.”
“The correct term is your highness,” I replied gently, pulling rank. I felt bad when I realized that my title had rattled her even more. “I’ll compensate you for the hurry.”
“Yes your highness,” she managed. “If you’ll… if you’ll just follow me to the back, to get your measurements.”
I removed my gown behind a curtain, leaving my underclothing on. “I’ll need a jacket too, something that covers my shoulders,” I continued, emerging to stand where she indicated. Her rope snaked around my body, pressing the thin material of my shift against my skin.
“Of course. I don’t… don’t know if you noticed your highness, but there is netting beneath the skirt. Would you like to keep it black? Or perhaps a red would be more appropriate for on the dance floor?” Her stammering began to disappear as she concentrated on the task at hand.
I smiled and replied warmly. “Red would be lovely, thank you for the suggestion. Though keep the jacket black.”
Once she was finished I emerged from behind the curtain fully clothed once more to find her sketching. “You’re the seamstress?” I asked in surprise.
She nodded. “My mother and I take turns minding the shop and stitching. It would be an honour to do your gown.” When I nodded with an approving smile she showed me her sketch. “I didn’t bother with the gown but here is what I had in mind for the jacket.”
It was made of black linen, only long enough to skim the top of the gown’s neckline so that it covered the skin I wanted but still showed off the embroidery. The sleeves ended just above the elbow, a single orange and yellow flower embroidered on the end of the left sleeve. “It looks perfect,” I praised, liking how I would be able to wear it later with different outfits. “Have the bill sent up to the palace to Mercedes de las Aragonia.”