“And now, tah-dah! The tailor! Madam Bernedeaux’s! My favorite place in all of Bremenstadt-”

“So the burger stand just magically disappeared.”

“Yes! But anyways, it’s time to get you-” Elise pointed at me and did a little pirouette. I was unamused, and the slight frown already present on my face deepened. “-dressed for the occasion!”

“I fail to see how you can muster this much enthusiasm with shopping for clothes.” I replied nonchalantly. “We are quite literally shopping for aesthetically pleasing pieces of fabric. What is so exciting about this?”

“It’s a normal person thing. You wouldn’t get it.” She deadpanned. “You wouldn’t get it even if we stuck it in front of you and waved it around on a stick. But enough of that. Say it with me, Fredrich! Today, you will finally stop looking like a depressed idiot!”

That declaration turned heads. Every other person on the street was probably wondering who fed the little gremlin too much sugar before taking her outside. Jokes on you, Elise does not need performance-enhancing drugs to take a wrecking ball to your train of thought. She does not need anything to become both infinitely adorable and endlessly vexing at the same time.

It was both endearing and irritating. My feelings oscillated between the two, before deciding that a morning of suit-fitting beat out my peppy sister -- so, irritation it was.

I sighed. “Today, I will go into this ‘Madame Bernedeaux’s’ and get fitted for a suit, which I will only wear once for the rest of my life.”

“Say it again, with feeling!”

“Today, I will be wasting an excessive sum of money on something that has no practical utility in order to please my family. Satisfied?”

“That’s as good as we’re going to get out of you. Goddamnit brother.” She shook her head disappointedly. “Well, nothing for it. Come on then!” Elise magically attached herself to my arm and began dragging me handily inside. Of course, she couldn’t actually do that -- I gave her a bit of help so that she wouldn’t trip.

Meaning I walked inside under the gazes of a hundred bemused spectators, a disappointed mother, and a group of guards that were trying -- and failing -- to suppress their laughter. Rosenberg even had the gall to snicker behind me! I’ll be docking their pay later.

No, I really wouldn’t, but thinking it made me feel better.

As we made it in, I was stunned by the sheer amount of pieces on display. Dresses of silk, suits lined with velvet, coats of furs shipped from God knows where. Clothing in all shapes and styles, from the formal tuxedos of Tyskia to the flowing gowns of the far East. This place had everything: I swear I saw something of the Instafanian style in one of the corners. How the hell did they even get that past the Sultanate’s borders?

I guess the scene before me really made an impact, because it took my sister’s teasing voice to snap me out of my reverie.

“Awestruck? Speechless?” Behold, the wonders of fashion!” Elise struck a little pose after that. “I know, I know. A country bumpkin like yourself will need a short adjustment period. Don’t worry-” she pulled out her best doctor voice, which came out all nasally and… just wrong. “-I’m sure you’ll get over your shock and welcome the gentle embrace of civilization.”

I cleared my throat before responding. “It really is quite something.” My response was intentionally muted so that my sister wouldn’t get the satisfaction of knowing she was right. She gave me a self-satisfied smirk -- stop gloating already. I apologize for not being used to the sort of decadence on display here.

“It’s more than just ‘quite something’. I can tell that you’re very impressed, just from that sparkle in your eye when we first went in. Heck, even I’m kind of starstruck every time I walk in here, and I’m a regular!”

“My eyes don't sparkle. That would be very disturbing.”

“Yes they do.”

“No, they don't. They were simply filled with tears at the sheer decadence of the displays on this establishment. They were mourning for the animals that had to die in order for this clothing to be made. That gleam you saw was a trick of the light; you are hallucinating, sister.”

“Yes they do, and that’s final.” Elise looked around for a shop assistant for… something. I honestly didn’t think she’d need one, with how often she supposedly came here. “Hey! ma’am?” She tried waving her arms at a nearby assistant to get her attention, but couldn’t quite reach over the tall rack of coats before her.

Eventually, the young lady came over, perhaps picking out my sister’s voice from the general din of the store. She stopped for a moment when she saw our escort, before subtly shaking herself and greeting Elise.

“Hi! My name’s Hilda! How may I help you today?”

“Show my brother to the changing rooms, please.” Ah, so the help was for me. Way to make me feel young again, and not in a good way.

“What about you, little miss?”

“Oh, me?” She glanced at mother, who was undoubtedly needling one of my guards for my work schedule. Thank god none of the guards sans Rosenberg knew, as he was one of my many assistants. “Hey Mom?”

“Yes, my dear?” She turned away from her conversation and gave my sister a radiant smile. “What do you need?”

“Want to go pick out suits for my brother with me? We’re going to be here all morning, and he can be our private dress-up doll.”

“Now listen here, I never agreed to this!” My protests were summarily ignored. Woe be me.

“That sounds fun.” Mother gave me a predatory smile. “That sounds very fun.” Am I the only one getting a bad feeling about this? I felt a bit queasy -- where’s the nearest restroom? “Count me in. What do we look at first?”

“Well, the last time I went exploring, I found this really neat section of Tyskian suits from some newer designer. I guess we could start there? He’s boring, so he’d want one of those anyway.”

“That sounds like an excellent plan, dear. Miss Hilda?”

“Yes ma’am?”

“Take my son to the changing rooms. He can wait for us there, while we educated folk have an academic discussion.”

“This is a kidnapping.”

“Deal with it. You agreed to this.”

--

After depositing us at the changing rooms, Hilda departed and left me and Rosenberg to entertain ourselves. With nothing else to do, we took a seat at one of the nearby benches and struck up a conversation.

Or rather, he initiated it, and I sat there sulking.

“Enjoying yourself, sir?”

“Does it look like I am?”

“No, not particularly.”

“Well, there’s your answer.”

Rosenberg chuckled. “There are certainly worse ways to spend a day. Like you said, we could be getting shot at. I think clothes shopping beats ducking under rifle fire, yes?”

“Fair enough, but there are certainly better ways as well.” I sighed, and began gently rubbing my eyes. “Wouldn’t you believe how tense things are with the Federation? It’s all I can do to keep Ostland free of spies.”

“Well, sir, if it makes you feel better.” he adjusted himself so that he could sit more comfortably. “We’re all here for you, sir. Trust us to do our jobs, just like how we trust you to do yours.”

“Even so, I cannot help but worry. It feels surreal that we’d be on the brink of war because the Lothians refuse to surrender the sovereignty of half a county.” I sighed again. “It’s quite the situation.”

“No kidding sir, but still, my point stands. Take some time off.” He gestured to the room around us. “See the Empire that you’ve helped build. An architect cannot design a house without seeing the final product.”

“Is that general advice, or something personal?” I questioned. “Either way, thank you, Sergeant Rosenberg.”

“It’s no trouble at all, sir.” He withdrew a flask from his back pocket, unscrewed the cap, and took a small sip. I raised an eyebrow, and he shrugged me off -- it was water, not alcohol. Thank god I wasn’t being protected by a drunkard -- well, if I was, then that raised the question of how effective the sergeant would be if sober.

He’d be terrifying. I shuddered at the thought.

“Well anyways, I’m sure you’d rather not listen to an old man prattle on about his life story. But yeah, that advice was a tad personal, sir.” Rosenberg chuckled ruefully. “Most advice from us geezers tends to be.”

“Nonsense. If you want to tell me, do so.” I would never give up an opportunity to learn something, unless it was something useless like fashion. Plus, he was one of my closest confidants, outside of my family and Sebastian. “It’s not like we have anything better to do.”

“Ha! I’ll drink that.” He looked around, and saw no one who could be listening in. Satisfied with our privacy, he leaned in and brought his voice to a whisper. “So anyways, have I told you about that time in Boulliers, when I fought in the Republic to the South?”

“Briefly.”

His expression turned grim before he continued to speak. Where there was previously a cheerful smile, now there was only a melancholic frown on an otherwise inexpressive face. “Well, I was a hotheaded private back then. Thought I could charge machine-gun nests by my lonesome, and did a coupla’ times, actually.” He took another swig from his flask. “I thought war was some glorious little game. Guess I never saw the dead up close -- the costs of war.”

“What happened?”

“Well, it’s been a long time now. But the gist of it-” Rosenberg began making a series of motions with his fingers while pointing at the floor. “Our platoon was assigned to take this house, and was told that there were civilians in the area. Now I was told I could sit out of the whole operation, since I had a few weeks of leave saved up and a dying mother behind the front line.”

I stayed silent, motioning for him to continue.

“I didn’t go back. I stayed, with that ill-tempered fire of youth in my belly, resolved to do my duty no matter what. And when the orders came in-” He took another swig out of the flask, eyes closed, lost in reminiscence “- I did. I was the first one into the city’s perimeter, and the last one out when the order to retreat was given.”

“But we won in the end, no?”

He scoffed and opened his eyes. “Boulliers was no victory. It was a massacre.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“The citizens -- they were fanatics, backed by the Republic’s then weakening army. As we advanced through the streets, they kept shooting at us -- lotta good men died that way.” He mimed the motion of shouldering a rifle. “A few of my friends too. Anyways, the first time we went in, we tried to be gentle. Separate the combatants and the noncombatants, you know? The usual. It didn’t fucking work. Every hand held a rifle and every bag carried a grenade. We were forced out with heavy casualties.”

That was drastically different from the after-action report I had read.

“The second time, the brass ordered us to eliminate all opposition. At first I didn’t know what they meant -- weren’t we already doing that? Then they brought in the assault engineer battalions, the flamethrowers, and the satchel bombs. They leveled every building in the city except for the rail station.”

Yep, this was very different.

“Of course, we still tried to get the civilians out under a white flag. Halfway through, however, whoever was in command just gave up after seeing the losses the engineer battalions were taking while waiting for the infantry to sweep the city. I wasn’t there when they torched the place to the ground -- I was in a rear camp, watching the exhausted engineers stagger back all haggard and pale-like.”

He sniffed delicately, no doubt trying to wash the odor of fire away with fresh air.

“I wasn’t there, but I could still smell the burning of human flesh from where I was. And you know what was the worst part?” He chuckled self-deprecatingly and kicked the air in front of him.

I paused for a moment. “What was it?”

“It wasn’t the dead women and children. No, the people of Boulliers should have surrendered, and perhaps we should have been more gentle. But we was soldiers, sir -- we just wanted to protect our own and wrap the war up as quickly and neatly as possible. Can’t fault command for that, no matter how brutal they were. They just wanted to see us sons-of-bitches home, I think. No, the worst part was that my mother died while I was at the front.”

He took a deep breath and paused to compose himself.

“She died without her son by her side in her final moments, because her bastard was too busy doing his job and chasing glory. The worst part is, Boulliers didn’t matter too much anyway. The Republic's already a lost cause at that point. But I, uh. forgot about the folks back home. Forgot about the love my old woman showed me when I was a wee lad.” He teared up, before sniffling and wiping at his eyes with a sleeve. “Don’t think I’ll ever live that down -- so don’t make my mistake, sir.”

An awkward silence descended before I broke it.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“Thank you, Rosenberg. I don’t think it was easy for you to tell, was it?”

“No sir, but time has dulled the pain. The reason I toldja was because I see a bit of myself in you. Enjoy these moments while you can, sir. You won’t get them back.”

He let out a pained sigh that carried all the exhaustion of a lifetime.

“I never have. How I wish I did.”

--

It did take a while -- longer than I expected -- for Elise and Mother to come back with the clothes they wanted me to try on. I could only pray that they didn’t bring a veritable armory of apparel with them -- it would be both a pain to carry and a pain to wear.

I wonder if the guards knew that they would be used for free transport services. Probably not how they imagined their day to go, I will not lie.

Still, I tried to smile when I heard them turn the corner. It wasn’t easy -- it would take a long time to undo the years of conditioning I forced upon myself. That said, Rosenberg’s advice was sound: if I wanted to re-introduce leisure to my life, why not start now? It was certainly better than ruminating on the myriad of small issues facing the Interior Ministry -- you’d need a psychiatrist or a therapist on staff for that. Those thoughts did not assuage the sense of dread in my stomach, however; the daunting tasks of wrestling fur coats and strangling suit collars still awaited me.

When my sister saw my smile -- strained as it was -- she paused mid step and gave me a questioning look, as if doubting what she was seeing. Was it really so surprising? I mean yes, it would be, but that hurt a little. I would have liked to think I was not so opposed to fun.

Fun, in the normal sense.

“Why are you smiling?”

I rolled my eyes. “Because I want to. I was just thinking about how relaxing this kind of outing was. A far cry from a quiet read, but not altogether unenjoyable.” I gave a subtle nod to Rosenberg, who nodded in response, satisfied.

Elise pinched herself, then shook her head before pinching herself again. “I must be dreaming. Mother, am I dreaming?” Seriously? Yes, this was a novel reaction from myself, but couldn’t we just ignore it and get on with the fittings?

“No, my dear, I don’t think you are. Still, this is quite revolutionary.”

Elise chuckled. “I know right! Fredrich, my hermit of a brother, interested in something outside of orders, paperwork, and weapons?” She gasped exaggeratedly while gently setting down her bags on the floor. “Who are you, and what did you do with my brother?”

“Please, just get on with it. There is no reason to continue poking fun at me.”

“Aaaaand now he’s back. There we go Great.” Her reply carried an undertone of mirthful sarcasm. “It’s good to see that you’ve mustered up some enthusiasm for the subject -- if only because we have quite a lot to go through. Samuel! Chop chop!”

“Right away, little Duchess.” One of the guards deposited a bag of clothing before her. Why was it not surprising she already had people wrapped around her finger?

“So in here-” Elise pointed to the bag by her feet. “Is one of the new Tyskian suits, done in light blue Rayon. I’d figured we’d start with this since you’re such a stickler for formality. What do you say?”

“Thank you?” I hedged hesitantly.

“Oh my god.” She shook her head. “Not what I meant, but you're welcome. Here-” She handed me the bag. “Try it on. I think it will fit quite well.”

I accepted the proffered bag and withdrew its contents. It was a suit not unlike what I was wearing right now, though with extra decorative ruffles along the collar and cuffs. The fabric felt smooth to the touch -- silklike, even -- and was tinted a light blue. Was this to match my eyes?

I removed my tuxedo and passed it to Rosenberg, who graciously stood to hold it for me while I put the new suit on. It was a bit small -- as to be expected of a display piece -- but still fit quite well. More importantly, judging from Elise’s quiet claps and Mother’s appreciative smile, I looked quite good in it.

“I think that’s a keeper. Mom?”

“Yes, it really does make him look very handsome, if only he didn’t have those bags under his eyes. Fredrich, do you want this?”

“How much does it cost? And what is this Rayon?”

Elise looked up towards the ceiling, lost in thought. “Well, Rayon is a substitute for silk invented by some Doctor Christopher or something. It’s supposed to be cheaper, though probably by all that much -- the only reason we’re having this suit done with substitutes is because the real thing would take too long to import.” She gave me a scathing glare, which I promptly ignored. “Because someone categorically refused to go shopping for clothes before now. I think the price tag was somewhere around the ballpark of two-hundred marks. Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“Fine. I’ll take it then.” I did some mental math -- that was a dozen good meals for myself. “And the next up?”

“Excellent! I’ll get you the whole outfit -- it’d look wonderful on you. Oh, the next up? So excited already?” She passed me one of the bags she set down earlier. “Damn, someone kidnapped Fredrich. He’d never show so much enthusiasm for something like this.”

“What if he changed?”

“People don’t change overnight, much less in the hour it took for us to find you clothes. Still, thanks for the effort, I guess. Makes you feel a whole lot more normal.”

“What compliments. I might blush.”

“You shouldn’t. Anyways-” She pulled out a very large fur coat from the bag. “This is in the Lothian style, so a-lot of furs. I’m not sure how it’d actually look on you, since you wear nothing but tuxedos, but here goes.”

I put it on, and the first thing that stood out was that I was very warm. The second thing was that, upon consultation with a nearby mirror, I looked like a barbarian war chief. From the silent movies, of course, not real life. In reality, they’d have steel breastplates and greaves. I had neither.

“I look like a savage.” I deadpanned. “This is not conducive to whatever public relations campaign you are trying to run with myself as the figurehead.”

“I think that’s precisely the point of the coat. Oh well, doesn’t fit you -- you’re too quiet. Rejected! Mom, any objections?”

“None at all.”

“Right! Then, something exotic!” Elise cackled, and I mean outright cackled. “This is Instafanian. It even comes with a little hat.” She held up a set of flowing robes for me to see. “Not actually too sure what it’s made out of, but I did pick red to contrast with your eyes. Imagine that! A gaze of ice wreathed in fire! Wonderful dichotomy.”

“Excuse me? When’d you start spouting poetics?”

“You’re excused. Anyways, back to this thing. It’s in the style of what their royals used to wear. I think you’ll look nice.”

“Used to?”

“Uh-huh. Would you like something more modern? I have a few more outfits you could try behind me.”

“Just give me it.” To my surprise, I slipped rather easily into the robe. Looking back, it was a robe -- not too sure what I was expecting there. “This is pretty comfortable.”

Figured. “It looks pretty alright as well. You’d look like a prince, but princes are usually sociable creatures who don’t hide under their desks. Mom, second opinion?”

“I prefer the suit -- it fits him better.”

“Mmmm. My thoughts as well. He could wear this at home though! Like, as casual wear. What do you think, Fredrich?”

“I think I’ll stick with my suits.”

“Bor-ing! Whatever.” She unceremoniously stuffed the robe back into its bag. “Ooooo, you’ll like this one.”

“What is it?”

“So remember the blue suit you were partial to? I know you liked it because you agreed to buy it.”

“Affirmative.”

“Well this is the more rustic version of that. It’s done in the old Aesterian-Lyonstic fashion but with a few modern twists. Want to try it?”

I shrugged. “I don’t see why not.” The bag containing the suit was thrust immediately into my hands, and everyone gave me expectant looks -- Rosenberg included. I rolled my eyes and went with it -- the outfit was surprisingly hard to put on. The small tailcoat kept getting caught on my baton, and the vest was a size too small.

After finishing donning the damn thing, I looked around… only to see that Elise was… somehow starstruck?

“You look so good! You don’t get an opinion on this -- it’s a keeper.”

I turned my head to face mother, since Elise was currently gushing over my appearance -- therefore, completely indisposed. “Mother? Is something wrong with Elise?”

“Perhaps a bit overexcited-” She took a glance at her daughter, who stood stock-still mumbling incoherently. “Very much overexcited, but she’s not wrong. You look like one of those mercenaries in the stories. The severe expression you always have on your face helps that impression. Very dashing.”

“Do I get a rapier?”

“Do you want a rapier?”

I looked down at my arms, experimentally waving the ruffles around. “Yes, but not one with a sheath to match the color of this outfit. I’d need a new one.”

“Of course you would.” She sighed. “Well, better than nothing. Get one, I guess.”

Then Elise released herself from her trance and made me try on at least a half dozen more articles of clothing. There went my morning -- though I couldn’t say I didn’t enjoy it.

Thank you, Rosenberg.

--

“So where are we going for lunch?” Elise asked. “I’m famished.”

“I don’t know.” Technically… we could go for lunch at the restaurant Klara worked at yesterday. I don’t think she’d be too happy to see me, however; the semi-interrogation must have been quite traumatic. “Mother?”

Plus, I wouldn’t have the time to follow up with more questions with my family present, so the entire point of going back there was moot. Thus, I deferred to my mother, who I swear kept track of every decent restaurant in the city.

She probably had a list somewhere. Meticulousness, in some form or another -- paperwork, clothing, or simple organization -- ran in the family.

“I suppose we could go to Pearl Gardens if we want something more Oriental. Unless you want to try Republican? We could go for Le Majestique, then.”

“No, the first option sounds great. Not in the mood for boiled snails/ Any objections?” All the guards shook their heads -- they knew I was going to try and seat them if at all possible. “Excellent.”

We walked in companionable silence towards our destination: the restaurant we were going to was quite a ways into the commercial district, which alone spoke to its quality. When we arrived, Elise gave me a quick hug in appreciation of my cooperation that morning.

“Thanks for going along with my antics, brother. I had fun -- can we do it again sometime?.”

“Of course. Whenever I have time and you want.”

She nodded her thanks then skipped back to being beside Mother, who was frozen and watching something. The guards next to her were tense -- their hands were on their guns. The hell was going on?

I moved closer to see. Some young man was accosting a middle-aged waitress outside a restaurant -- and it wasn’t going to be pretty. A crowd had gathered to watch, but no one did a thing -- apparently, the lad was Count Wagner’s boy. I guess everyone was hesitant to report the scion of a mid-ranking noble to the Gendarmerie.

“I can’t eat this, you stupid Lothian bitch! Who the hell let you into this country?”

“I’m sorry sir, but we can’t get you a refund if you’ve already eaten half the plate.”

“Do you know who I am? Insolent cur-” He smashed the plate he was holding into the sidewalk. “How dare you speak to your betters that way?”

Ah, another entitled noble brat using heightened diplomatic tensions to target minorities. How droll, and what a way to ruin an otherwise pleasant day. My eye twitched, and I motioned for Rosenberg to follow me. He nodded, then dragged another guard along.

“I’m sorry you have to watch this, Mother.” I nodded my head towards her. “Sister. Allow me to deal with this idiot. Please turn away.”

Right after I said that the man slapped the woman, causing her to crumple to the floor. I drew my baton and made my way over.