“I’ll do it,” declared Rethia, stopping right in the door to the small breakfast room. The butler who had led her here melted to the side.
“Play with us this afternoon?”, “I wanna play hide and seek,” squealed the children, etiquette barely keeping their excited selfs on their chairs.
“Do sit down, dear,” Rianna beckoned at the empty perch at the table. “We can discuss this after breakfast, don’t you think?”
Hagfar turned his head to the side, mumbling something to the butler, then smiled at her invitingly. “You know, working on an emtpy stomach is a recipe for disaster.”
Against her expectations, she wasn’t rushed off to meet the town leaders. Instead, she almost forced to enjoy the hearty breakfast and was then towed away by Rianna, just as the Kaska and Stooge were led into the room. The children swarmed after her, only to break off into one of the many rooms.
Rianna led her into yet another large room. It could compete with the shamans cave back home, at least size-wise. But the decorations – while too oppressive for her taste – were nothing to scoff at, either.
Do they only have large rooms? How big is this house?
“My lady,” a maid stepped into their path, presenting a worn booklet. “We’ve prepared as best we can, using this as a reference.”
Rethias eyes were drawn to the cover, reading ‘A Diplomat’s Guide to Exotic Fashion’ in elegant writing.
Rianna took it with a smile and carefully flipped it open. A sketched mermaid, wearing some kind of flowing green cloth that was fastened around her wrists and shoulders with silver clasps, looked back at them. The cloth looked like translucent wings.
Rianna turned several pages, briefly studying each sketch:
A mermaid wearing a dress with what could’ve been bells.
A merman with a regal looking shawl and sash.
A harpy bedecked with jewelry.
A dragonewt in decorated hunting leathers.
A harpy with a yellow sarong and a funny headdress.
A mermaid with…
“Yes, I see. You did well. Let’s see what would fit our dear Rethia best.” Rianna closed the booklet and handed it back to the maid.
With eyes as wide as saucers, Rethia took a proper look around the room.
Countless maids were lined up on both sides of it, badly hiding behind them a frightening amount of dreadfould ribbons and cold jewelry – in short: the strangest clothing she had ever seen had been pinned onto large dolls, covering next to nothing.
“I don’t think any human would wear those willingly…” she ventured a guess. After all, clothes were for the Landbound.
“Those are not for humans, my dear. Something in here will become your formal dress for your meeting with the councilmen.”
Rethia gulped at the declaration, fear traipsing up her spine, and she took a step back towards the door, raising her wings defensively in front of her. “I will not wear any of this,” she squeaked.
“My dear young lady. This is an official meeting and not a random encounter in a tavern or on the streets. If you appear like this, the councilmen will think less of you – and by extension of us, your hosts. It’s all part of this loathsome game, and if it gets us advantages, then I’ll make good use of it. And so should you.” Rianna inclined her head gracefully towards one of the dolls. Three maids closed in on her, while another pair removed the outfit from a doll.
“I don’t care what they think of me. All I have to do is find a way to help fight the wyverns, not cury favor with them!” Rethia backed up to the closed door.
“And you’re probably not doing it out of sole good will either. A good presentation will help your with bargaining for better terms, or outright improve your reward. Hagfar did tell me that you want to know about the mermaids that visited our city. Our loremasters guard their knowledge jealously. Lilian, help her put those on.”
“What? No! Stop!”
Maids descended on her, grabbing her wings with firm but gentle hands and carefully pried them open.
“My belt! No!” She made an effort to grab hold of her sash, but it was in vain.
“Don’t worry, dear. None will steal your possessions. Not with this fine monkey keeping his eyes on it.” Rianna nodded towards Sven, who hung onto her belt with evil glaring eyes. “Now, let’s see how this fits.”
She tried to resist, but with each new outfit, with each new necklade, her strength waned, until she could only stand there and bear the flutter of maids around her.
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Lady Rianna, watching the show from a safe couch with a cup of tea, suddenly clapped her hands with delight. “That’s it!”
The flutter of maids settled abruptly, as if struck by thunder. Like morning mist, they floated aside, revealing Rethia.
“You’re absolutely beautiful. Stunning!” declared Lady Rianna as she waltzed over with a smile. “Just look at you!”
Rethia blinked her glazed eyes, trying to focus on the creature in the mirror.
She wore some kind of white leg covers, open on the sides and fastened just over her joints with silver clasps. A light-red cloth was wrapped around her chest, emphasizing her red-brown feathers and hair. A flowing skirt of see-through black was attached to it, trailing partly over her tail feathers. More silver clasps had been fastened near her claw joints, draping a white see-through cloth over her wings. Her short hair had been bunched up and pinned down with silver sticks.
All in all, it was quite heavy and even more restricting than the standard-issued cloak she usually wore into human settlements.
She stared into the mirror for a long time, not listening to the inane chatter between Rianna and the maids. In the back, she could see a dumbfounded Sven staring at the abhorrence that had been created.
I hate this. It’s heavy. It’s ugly. And it’s not me! I’m definitely not a kid anymore! Don’t they know anything? Why do I have to dress up like a doll, when they want my help?
As if in trance, she slowly removed the clasps from her wings, letting them drop to the ground with a satisfying clank. The attached cloth briefly floated in the air, before it deflated. The chest-wrap followed, billowing as it settled down. The leg covers joined the articles in the careless heap with dejected thunks.
Straightening two skewed feathers, she then retied her belt and let Sven fit the harness around her, studying the grime her sash had collected since her last bath in a river. Maybe it was a bit much, to meet the councilmen in dirty clothes.
Her roaming gaze quickly picked out all the blue pieces in the room, before settling on one.
Silence followed her, as she waded through the still maids, removing the cloth from its doll and inspecting it. It was a bit wider and much longer than her sash, and it was red-bordered, instead of green.
Fitting, she thought, then tied it several times around her midscetion, letting its ends trail down over her left leg, barely reaching over the first joint.
Sven chittered excitedly.
“But,” started Rianna, before she was interrupted by a polite knock. The butler pushed his head through the door.
“The councilmen are waiting in the garden. Master Embrasen asks for your presence.”
“The garden? I will be there in a moment,” nodded Rethia, bundling her dirty old sash into a pouch.
“But… you can’t! Look at you, all our hard work to make you presentable…” blubbered Rianna, as Rethia stalked towards the balcony.
Somehow, this whole building seems to consist of only large rooms and upper-story balconies. How did they do that? Some kind of magic, perhaps?
The wayward thought was interrupted by a polite cough.
“If you would follow me, please?” The butler gestured towards the door. The pins in her hair clattered to the ground, having lost the fight against Svens paws.
“They’re in need of a harpy, not a dress-up doll, correct?” Rethia gave the butler – and the room as a whole – a mischievous grin. None dared answer the glint in her eyes, the butler barely lowering his head in what could have been affirmation.
She threw the glass doors open and scanned the garden. It wasn’t that large, making it easy to find the group of middle-aged men and women sitting around a table. Her perch was on the far side of the table.
Turning her head to look into the room, she stared a hole into the butler at the door. He bowed and vanished.
“Lady Rianna.”
“Yes, my d… miss Rethia?” Rianna corrected herself, picking up on her official title.
“I know you meant good, but clothes and such? They are not for me. I am no Merchant, wise to intrigues and plots. Nor am I a Warrior, fearless and brave. I am but a Traveler, on an official mission from my flock, still learning the ways of the Landbound. I’m willing to help if I can, but I will not subject to tomfoolery. I want but a single thing: Knowledge. Specially about the mermaids and their whereabouts.
“But there is so much I don’t know!” frustrated, she ruffled her feathers, ruining the moment. “Would you help me? Down there, I mean?”
“You’re definitely no schemer,” said Rianna, a smirk marring her elegant face. “I would help you simply to see those old codgers fume with indignance, but you’ll have to tell me why you refuse to wear anything else. It looked really good. And it matched much better than that blue. It’s clashing with your wingtips.”
“This? Quite simple: Yellow is for merchants. Red is for warriors. Brown is for the monkey caretakers, while blue is for travellers. And white-black… seriously, it’s for children. Those who haven’t become adults yet. I wouldn’t be here if I was still a kid.” She rolled her eyes, fluffing her feathers.
Rianna chuckled, waving at the maids to clean up the battlefield, stepping onto the balcony to look down at the group of councilmen. Hagfar sat among them, trying to keep them pacified.
“Well then. Tell me what you have in mind for your entrance, so I can position myself accordingly.”
“Nothing special, really. Just fly that short bit over there and land on my perch. Now look at that, your butlers are something else. I just had to stare at him from here and he moved my perch to this side of the table. And they don’t even look like they noticed anything.” Rethia pointed at the quarreling group, and how the butler still slowly moved their chairs about by inches, in the brief times that people jumped out of their seats to underline their arguments.
“Wait until I’m at that bush over there, before you swoop down on them. It looks bad if your advisor has to hurry after you.” Rianna hurried out of the room, muttering something that sounded like catching up to sweets.
Rethia shook her head, grooming her wings as she watched Rianna move into position. A gaggle of maids, carrying plates and tea and pastries, followed in her wake. At the indicated bush, she turned towards the house and waved shortly.
Rethia hopped onto the balustrade, briefly shook out her wings and took flight. With lazy wingbeats, she glided towards the table. A short internal debate later found her hovering over her perch, her wingbeats ruffling hair and tearing clothes loose, before she grabbed the perch with her talons and stopped moving her high-raised wings.
Deliberately, she folded them around her, as the shocked silence deepened.
Hagfars shoulders shook, a hand covering his mouth, but his eyes roared with laughter.
The three with similar clothes and patterns stared at her with wide eyes, then, after overcoming the shock, bowed low in their seats.
One burly man with a scar running over one cheek and down his neck, had jumped from his seat, grabbing for a weapon that wasn’t there. Realizing who the new addition on the table was, he dropped back into his chair.
The last three looked like panicked merchants and they took the longest to get to terms with her entrance, since they sat on her left side and could only look at her by craning their necks around.
Rianna swooped in with the gaggle of maids, shooing them to serve tea and pastries, naturally sliding into the suddenly appearing chair on Rethias right side with a smile.