Chapter 7
Planthorne Fineries, The finest tailor in the kingdom
Indeed. Since she arrived in the city, she had been looking forward to experiencing what it had to offer. To be able to take a walk in the city without being challenged or having to kill people on the street was a very novel experience.
She was so happy that she could not help but started humming a little tune while putting both her hands behind her back, strutting her way down the main road.
From the fragments of memory she had from Cornelia, there was no memory of Cairula. Only bits and pieces, as if they were meaningless blur. There was no sense of attachment or fondness. Cornelia, you are a very unhappy child, aren’t you? Well, I’ll have fun for the both of us.
The golden haired girl spotted a stall selling a curious confection. It looked like cream and fruit sandwiched in the middle of very thin layer of dough.
“Hello. Would you like to try?”
“What is this?”
“Why, this is a Crepe! The Hero a few generations ago invented this sold the recipe to my great grandfather. See?” he pointed at the sign. “Endorsed by Hero Grandine.”
“How much is it?”
“3 copper coins for the regular. Add 1 copper for more fruit.”
“Do you have change for a gold coin?”
“Why yes, I’ve had a good day today. One crepe, extra fruit for the beautiful young lady.”
Soon Connie received the Crepe and found a nice little shade to eat under. She bit into it and found the pleasing creaminess of the fresh cream and the sweetness of the fruit a very nice dining experience. “Marvelous! Not even sweet dumplings can compare to this.”
She finished the whole things in four bites and washed it off with a piece of apple she bought roadside.
“This is a nice city,” she said, leaning her arms on a streetside stall. She bit into the apple. “The economy looks good, everyone is dressed cleanly, though the horse still smell like horses.”
“But the city is too big and there is no rhyme or reason to the road! How the hell am I supposed to find a tailor and a blacksmith? I should have asked Bertus.”
She found herself underestimating the city. It was fine if she wanted to just stroll around. But she had a goal today.
“What should I do?” she said to herself.
As she was wondering what to do, she felt a tug on her dress.
“Pretty lady, would you like to buy some flowers?”
When she turned around, she saw a little girl offering a piece of flower. The flower had bright yellow petal with blue tips. She was unfamiliar with it.
“Just 1 copper for one. It’s very fresh,” she said with a hopeful look. “Picked it up this morning.”
Her fingers were dirty and there some calluses on her knuckles and fingertips. She had a nice head of brown hair and freckles on her face. Though she was wearing rags and she had one lost tooth, the little girl had a very nice smile.
“Flower, is it? Do you know what type of flower it is?”
“I-I dunno. I picked what I can find in the forest,” she flustered.
Connie accepted the flower and promptly ate the whole thing.
“W-why did you eat that miss? You cannot eat flowers!”
Hmm, there is a minute amount of Alkaloid, the taste is similar to Daffodil, but it has the wrong color. In fact, I don’t recognise any of the flowers in her basket. “Do you pick flowers every morning?”
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“Yes, miss. I only pick fresh ones. Other kids sell whatever they can find, but my sister said hard work always pays.”
“You have a good sister,” she patted her head. “I will buy the whole basket. Is this enough?”
The girl’s eyes shone once she saw the gold coin between her fingers. She snatched it and put it in her pocket as if she was afraid of losing it.
“No takebacks!”
“Aha, now this is better! You are a precocious child. I like that,” she nodded to herself. “Tell me, girl. What’s your name?”
“Sen!”
“Alright, Sen. Do you know your way around this city?”
“I know. I know the alleyways, the shops, the little stands. The best place to get cheap food! Everything!”
“Good, then give me a tour of the city and there is another coin in it for you.”
“Sure can!”
“Bring the basket with you, I want to snack on them while we walk.”
The young woman then proceeded forward with the little girls trailing beside her, jabbering about the city cheerfully. She would take some flowers and put it into her mouth as she walked, listening to Sen with a smile on her face.
Indeed. Even with her cold heart, she was still soft on children.
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After a twenty minutes walk, they arrived at small old building filled with beautiful clothes on display inside. The words “Planthorne Fineries” were painted with bright blue color on the large window.
As Connie was about to enter, she saw Sen stopping awkwardly in front of the door.
“Not going in?”
“This…this is not a place I can enter.”
“Nonsense,” she grabbed her by the shoulder and walked in.
A rhythmical jingle from the bell atop the doorframe stopped an old man in fineries as he was fixing a dress on a mannequin. He looked up from a pair of half-moon glasses and wrinkled his nose.
“What’s that smell?” he saw the dirty Sen by the door and frowned. “Out now, hush, hush.”
“Are you throwing out customers? That’s not a good thing to do.”
The dapper old man fixed his glasses and said, “Oh, Lady Connie? What brings you here?”
“Oh, you know of me?”
“Of course. I remember my old customers. The old Duke ordered often from me. Especially his last order, it was for your debut. Alas, it was not meant to be, as Duchess Steelheart cancelled the order,” he said. “Ah, My condolence for his passing.”
This stepmother of mine seemed to be very naughty.
Connie rubbed Sen’s hair playfully and smiled. “She’s my tour guide for the day.”
“Hmm…if she must be here then I insist that she sits on that chair over there and not touch anything,” he said. “Anything. Is that clear?”
Connie raised an eyebrow. “I don’t like that tone of yours.”
“Hm. You must understand. I do not care if a mangy wet dog or some high-falutin’ bigwig entered my shop. All that is important is my work,” he said proudly. “Every dresses and suits here are made of only the best of materials, rare and expensive. To have any one of them ruined would be as if letting some barbarian have a way with my daughter, metaphorically.”
“A man with pride in his work,” she nodded approvingly. She understood this type of man. A man who loved his craft more than he loves life, a man after her own heart. She clasped her hand in salute as a form of respect and said. “Delightful! What’s your name, sir?”
The man stood proudly as he tugged on his lapels. “Albert Planthorne, owner and sole tailor of Planthorne Fineries. Everything here is made by me and curated by me. Nothing off the shelf! Only bespoke goods!”
“Bespoke, hmm? That is good. I want to order a set of clothes. To be finished and delivered in a week.”
“Hmm? Surely you jest. I have a backlog of over a year! That I cannot do.”
“Even with a hundred gold coins?”
“Even with! I have a reputation to uphold, milady. And no amount of money can change that.”
“How about seeing what I have in mind first?”
The man raised an eyebrow. Seemingly interested. It had been a dull week and a bit of rest would not hurt. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to indulge a longtime customer.”
“Do you have a pen and some paper?”
As the young girl and the elderly tailor discussed things, Sen grew bored from sitting on the chair with nothing to do. She spun the gold coin in her little hand and smiled, thinking of a nice dinner she could cook for her sister and mother.
“Genius!!”
The sudden shout almost made her drop the coin. She quickly put in in her pocket with thumping heart.
The expression on the man was of madness and joy. He held the design with such care, anyone would have thought it was his baby.
“This is beautiful! I have never seen anything quite like it!” he said, scrutinizing the details with a look of madness. “Where did you find such a concept?”
“That’s my personal design. What’s important is, can you do it?”
“Y-yes. Of course! It would be my pleasure.”
“I want the whole thing to be made of silk. White, with black for the pattern. The inner shirt should also be white. The lining should be made from gold thread. If you can order me some nice boots to go with it, it would be great.”
“You. You are too much! Where can I find that much silk?!”
“I will send it to you by tomorrow. Money is no object. Just send me the bill later. All I need is that it is finished in one week.”
The old man looked at Connie, then at the shop’s name painted on the window, then back at her.
“Aah, curse be my passion! Very well. We’ll do the measuring now. I’ll also have to ask…hrgh…a friend for help,” he sighed. “Do you mind if I share this design with a friend?”
“Can he be trusted? I want this design to be exclusively mine.”
“Upon my honor as the Best Tailor in the kingdom.”
“Very well, let’s do it,” she said as he closed the curtains and locked the door.
He unfurled his measuring tape and tuck a pen behind his right ear.
“Right then, do you have any requests? The lapels, the trousers? Perhaps some accents with different shades of white?”