“Oh! You speak the common tongue, how wonderful. I have so many questions.”

I wondered if she realized she ignored mine.

“Great,” Robert also noticed he was ignored. “She needs a dress, maybe two, you are to bill Matheas.”

“The prince?” The girl looked from Robert to me and back again. “I thought the priestesses were celibate?”

I felt my face heat.

“It’s not like that,” Robert gave her a pointed stare.

“The prince was being considerate and curious,” I said.

“Hmm,” she said but her attention had moved away to bolts of fabric against the wall.

Robert watched her before sighing, “I may have overstated when I said sensible. She’s a smart girl but not much of a filter on that mouth.”

I didn’t mind that she spoke her mind but I would have to clear up some misunderstanding that I didn’t look forward to.

“You never introduced us,” I pointed out.

Robert looked sheepish, “No, I didn’t. Laurel, come here and greet Kaela properly.”

Laurel didn’t leave her task. “Kaela, what a pretty name. It’s wonderful to meet you. I hope you can tell me about fashions on the Islands.”

Robert looked exasperated but I smiled. She reminded me of a girl I grew up with.

“I need to go Laurel. Can I trust you to take care of her? If not for me then do it for Prince Matheas.” With that, Robert hurried out the door.

Laurel finally came back with several bolts of fabric in her arms, rolling her eyes. “My brother still thinks I have a crush on the prince like I’m some pubescent teenager.”

Then her eyes blazed, “Now let’s get you measured.”

We didn’t speak while she measured every inch of me. It should have felt uncomfortable to be handled by a stranger but she kept her touch minimal and professional. Afterwards she showed me a fabric, the color a near mirror match of the priestess robes.

“I hope it’s not blasphemy to mimic something from the robes.” Laurel’s confidence wavered for the first time.

“No, I would love that,” I said meaning it, though still uncertain what form the dress would take. “I would only request that the dress not be constricting like…” I motioned to Laurel’s own dress, a forest green contraption locking high on the throat and low on her wrists; floor length with no leeway for her legs to move.

Laurel looked down at herself, “I’ve always hated the current fashion, but I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Laurel pulled the neck portion off like a necklace and handed it to me.

I stared at her, taking the cloth. Though opaque, the clothe felt light and stretchy.

“Feels like wearing nothing at all,” Laurel smiled, “The sleeves are made of the same. I discovered it while traveling into the deserts of Shaara. They cover themselves from head to toe to protect from the sand but need the lightness and breathability to survive in the heat. Quite expensive to import but I think a prince can afford it.”

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“I don’t—” I began.

“He offered—trust me no matter how expensive the fabric, it still won’t be near as expensive as one of his outfits.” It felt like she read my mind.

She pulled a wooden board from somewhere, placed a sheet of paper on it, grabbed a pencil and started sketching.

“I think we can forgo the high collar, that only came into fashion with the queen’s whim a year ago. I don’t think you care about being outdated.”

I shook my head but a response wasn’t necessary, she never looked up.

“I can make the whole dress from this fabric so the sleeves shouldn’t feel constricting but I can add fabric to the upper arms allowing more ease of movement.”

I nodded again. It still sounded like a trap.

“The skirts...hmm...obviously you won’t wear a corset. With that body, no one will notice, but...hmm” She tapped the pencil on the paper, frowning.

I didn’t know what a corset was but it didn’t sound pleasant. And what did my body have to do with it?

“They say the women in Icsondia go to war with their men, yet still wear skirts...hmm.” She sprang up and hurried behind the curtain she exited when we arrived.

She returned moments later, carrying a heavy book, bound in thick animal hide. She didn’t say a word as she flipped the pages. “Ah,” she turned to show me an image of a man and woman. The rendering so lifelike I had to touch it.

“Amazing, isn’t it? I had Robert borrow it from the Royal Library as soon as it arrived. Usually, a Captain doesn’t have such authority but the prince has been good to him.” She smiled gently as she passed a hand over the drawing barely touching it.

“Anyway, this is a rendering of the northern man and woman in battle dress.” Laurel snapped out of her reverie.

I stared again. Certainly they carried weapons and had aggressive expressions but there was no intent in it. Perhaps they were posing.

“You see, her dress has similar slits to yours, not as many and if she were to stand still, her legs would be completely covered.”

“Would that be acceptable?” I asked sure the answer was no.

“I think I can work with the idea.” She closed the book gently and set it aside. “I want to make two dresses, what other color would you like?”

“Couldn’t you make two in the same color?”

The dressmaker stared at me, dumbfounded, “I suppose…”

“It is the color of the Priestesshood, I don’t know any others.”

“Hmm,” Laurel watched me another minute before smiling, “I understand, it will take me a few days to have something for you to try on.”

I nodded. “Robert said you could point me in the direction of The Golden Pig?”

“I’ll take you,” Laurel’s eyes lit up, “I’m due for lunch—we can eat together.”

There didn’t seem to be room for argument so I didn’t try.

The Golden Pig was not in the courtyard. Laurel led us down a side-street and several more turning right then left then...I couldn’t follow, I felt lost.

We ended up in a far less colorful area. Everything here was brown—the buildings, the road, the signs. We stopped in front of one brown door with a brown wooden sign of a golden pig.

“Don’t let the area fool you, he makes the best beef chops and vegetable stew in the city,” Laurel smiled wide. She flung the door open and I took a step back as a cacophony of voices hit my eardrums.

I wrapped the cloak tighter around me before following Laurel inside. She led us to a desk at the far end of the room. Thankfully it didn’t seem that the majority of the voices were coming from this room. Only a single man loitered on a chair by the fireplace to our right.

Behind the desk stood a bald man whose skin was several shades darker than even my honey tan. He spotted Laurel first, smiling wide, “Should I tell the kitchen to ready your usual?” Then his eyes glanced at me. The smile didn’t slip but it was no longer as friendly or familiar. “You must be Kaela.” He looked at my cloak and saw more than I wanted. “Your room is ready and paid for. How long will you be staying?” A cautionary question, an answer he knew but hoped for something different—shorter most likely.

“I’m not sure,” I responded as he expected.

He nodded and turned to a cubicle of shelves behind him. Taking a key from one, he handed it to me, “You are in room ten. I’m Mustaf. If you need anything just ask.”

“She’s going to take lunch with me, can you place an order for two of my usual?” Laurel leaned on the counter.

Mustaf looked like he wanted to protest, then thought better. “Of course, go grab a table, the placed is already packed.

“He’s not from here either,” I observed as we walked away.

Laurel laughed, “No, he’s not.” She pushed a set of double doors next to the fireplace.