“How do you plan to do that?” Milvara asks.
“By being stunningly spectacular at the ball and dancing with the prince, if I can manage it,” Emlyn grins, “and as many of the duke’s sons as I can manage, too. Benger says he’s coming along with several of the duke’s sons, and I plan to dance with all of them, even if I have to ask them myself.”
“How do you plan to pull that off?” Davilla says, alarmed, “That’s most inappropriate here.”
“That’s one area where our rules agree,” Emlyn shrugs, “but my plan is simple. I’ll pretend to know at least one of them, walk up, explain my predicament, and ask them to dance with me. Unless I miss my guess, those girls have already been hounding them, so they’ll help me to annoy that group of twits. Since they’re all to be sent to other temples, those girls will be desperate to dance with any of them. If I’m there, they can use me as a shield to keep them away. It’s a win for me and for those boys. Since I want nothing from them, but a few dances, and they will want nothing from me, so I see no harm in it.”
“What makes you think they will want nothing from you?” Davilla asks.
Rolling her eyes, Emlyn answers, “Because I am a penniless orphan. With my dowry gone and no family connections to offer, for once, I will be the least attractive prospect in the room. Unlike the mothers and other girls chasing after them, I can offer them an evening of intelligent conversation and an evening’s respite from the predators stalking them.”
“And you think this will work?” Davilla says doubtfully.
“I do,” Emlyn nods, “because it is similar to a ruse I have used a time or two myself to shake off boorish suitors when I was quite often the most desirable prospect in the room.”
Laughing, Milvara waves Davilla off. “It will work. She will do magnificently,” Milvara declares, “I will turn you into an exotic foreign orphan princess. I might be able to arrange for you to borrow or rent some jewelry to wear to the ball. There is a great deal of difference between being a beggar and looking like one.”
Emlyn grins, “Give me your pencil and I’ll sketch out the sort of dress I’m proposing.”
With the dressmaker gone, Emlyn yawns and curls up for a nap. Meanwhile, Milvara returns to her shop and breaks into a flurry of activity. She starts sorting through all her fabrics to see what she has that can be used to dress the girl. All of the russet, brown, gold, ivory, and green tones get pulled out, and Milvara sets all of those aside. Since these are essentially last season’s colors, Milvara is pleased to be able to get rid of her back stock at a decent price. The colors will complement the girl's red hair, and Milvara has a wide selection of materials, ranging from boiled wool to delicate silks.
Milvara starts sorting through them and placing them in piles for the different items she’ll be making. The first thing she decides to make is a pair of gloves. Gloves will let the girl hide her tattooed hands if she wishes to or feels the need to do so. Properly clothed, the rest of her tattoo isn’t visible. She pulls out some lamb skin in both black and brown before settling in to work on the gloves, while her shop assistants start making the first fittings of the everyday clothes.
Emlyn’s days turn into a steady rhythm of walking in the chapel, swimming in the fish hatchery, and fittings with Milvara for various items of clothing. Each day, she gets a bit closer to the altar, but never quite makes it the full distance. When she can reach the first pew in the chapel, she looks up at Benger from her near fall. “I need to get a set of plate,” Emlyn says thoughtfully, “I need to get used to moving in it again.”
“Are you sure?” Benger asks skeptically, “You’re barely making it to the first pew. You still have a few more feet to go.”
“The weight will help me get stronger,” Emlyn insists, “It will also help get my balance back.”
“I’ll speak to Ember about it,” Benger says, “but don’t be surprised if he says no.”
“If he says no, then I want you to take me to see him,” Emlyn frowns. “This is important. I want this done properly.”
“Why is this so important to you?” he asks.
“Because,” she replies, wrinkling her nose, “I don’t want anyone to be able to make allegations or accuse anyone of impropriety, or to try to sever the connection later. I know that I’m young, maybe too young by many people’s standards. According to others, I’m not the right gender. Some will try to cast me as an innocent girl who’s been duped. I won’t leave any room for all the critics, all the skeptics, and all the doubters to make their accusations. I want it done properly, with all the trimmings, to stop all that before it can even get started.”
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Benger returns to Ember’s office and is greeted by Ulwin, “So Benger, I hear you’ve been spending a lot of time with Nia. What’s she like?”
“Just tell Ember that I’m here, will you?” Benger frowns, “I need to ask him about something.”
“Oh, come on,” Ulwin insists, “why is everyone so tight-lipped about this girl? Why is she special?”
Ignoring Ulwin, Benger steps around him and raps on the office door. “Ember, if you have a moment, I’m here to give a report.”
Ulwin glares at Benger, “I’m his assistant. He’s much too busy to be bothered with your reports on some random girl. You should be reporting to me anyway.”
Ulwin looks up to see Ember in the doorway, glaring at him. “That’s enough, Ulwin,” he says with an edge in his voice, “Unlike you, Benger can follow orders. I’ve told you twice now to stop asking about her.”
Ulwin gets a bit pale and seats himself at his desk, busily scribbling. “Why don’t you run down to the archives and see if you can find all the books that cover the founding of the Four and bring them back here?” Huffily, Ulwin gets up and stalks away as Ember ushers Benger into his office. Pinching his nose, Ember sighs heavily, “I suppose that there’s going to be another mid-winter reassignment. No matter. What brings you to see me?”
“She’s asking for plate, sir,” Benger replies, “She says that she needs to get used to moving in it again.”
“Did she say anything else?” Ember asks, intensely interested now, “And how’s she doing in the chapel?”
“She’s making progress. She can get to the first row of pews but hasn’t made it to the altar yet. We’re going to start setting up chairs to see just how close she can get. If she’s within a step or two, it might be close enough, since the priest stands in front of the altar for this. She says that the weight will help her get stronger more quickly and improve her balance. She also said that she wants everything done properly so that there can’t be any skepticism or criticism later on. She seems to feel the need to silence any doubters.”
“She’s right about that,” Ember nods approvingly, “I’ve been planning to have her fitted for a set, but she’s likely still putting on muscle. Her shape will change because of that, so I've been waiting.”
Benger chuckles, “She said that if you didn’t approve, I was to bring her here to see you tomorrow instead of going to the chapel.”
Ember laughs softly, “I’ll pick her out some pieces that will do for the time being and have them delivered to her, but I think perhaps I ought to start that commission sooner rather than later. They can leave a bit of extra space and adjust the padding, if it comes to that.”
“You’re going to commission a set for a novice paladin?” Benger says, “That’s bound to start some tongues wagging.”
“She has the Goddess’s favor,” Ember shrugs, “I can’t arm her in cast-offs. And she’s got her own weapons. Since we aren’t providing those as well, the cost will be about the same.”
“She might have some ideas about her kit,” Benger says helpfully, “Ask her about the sword killers.”
“What’s this?” Ember asks him.
“It’s a special knife that’s used to break swords – snap them in two. When we fought in the dream space, she had one in her belt that she showed me. You should discuss weapons with her. She also said that she was trained well past the basics on most every weapon because, and I’m quoting, “Because in battle, things happen. Your weapon may break. You might be disarmed. You should know at least the basics of how to fight without one and be at least passingly familiar with other weapons in case you can pick something up on the field.” She also told me that I should know how to fight with just a shield.”
Ember gives him a long look, “She said that…”
“After she bested me,” Benger nods, “And then we had a bit of a bout where she only had a shield. She bent my brigantine with just one whack. It hurt to move after that because it was pinching me and digging into my ribs. It was starting to make it hard to breathe. I had to stop after that. I hadn’t given much thought to what I’d do if my sword broke or someone managed to take it from me. Now, what she said has me thinking. I’m thinking of assigning everyone a different weapon one day, a tenday during training practice.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Ember agrees, “Do you remember what her shield looked like?”
Nodding, Benger begins to describe it, “If you turned a bowl upside down and put a cabinet knob on it, that would be a pretty close approximation of the boss on it. If you want my advice, I’d suggest asking her what she wants before you commission anything for her. I think you’ll find she’s got some very definite opinions and preferences. Her whole kit, in the dream space, was impressive, and there was an economy and grace about it. While it was quite impressive, it was also entirely serviceable. It was ornate and yet still quite functional. She managed it well, too. It didn’t seem to slow her or change how she moved overmuch.”
“Hmmm…” Ember mutters, thinking. “I know that Gethin said she was highly ranked, but I’m not sure I know what a Second Awst is exactly. I suppose that I should ask Gethin to explain that.”
“At a guess, it means the second in command,” Benger shrugs, “but that’s speculation. From what you told me, Gethin seemed to understand what it meant, so have him tell you.” Ember nods, “I think I shall.”
“Let me know what you find out,” Benger says on his way out.
While Ulwin is still lost in the archives, Ember files the paperwork to include Ulwin in the mid-winter transfers, with a note that he’s nosy and a gossip, for his future position, which is far north of Tassatung in Topis. Topis doesn’t have much call for scribes since the folk there rely more on oral traditions. Memorizing and reciting things gives them something to do during the long, cold, dark winters. It seems like it would be perfect for someone who likes to talk as much as Ulwin.
- Dress shopping becomes political maneuvering as Davilla approaches Milvara—a talented but financially wounded independent designer.
- Milvara sizes up the opportunity: a mysterious girl with the Goddess’s favor and a full?body tattoo that practically screams high status.
- Emlyn is revealed as intensely pragmatic: she needs everything, from winter clothes to normal outfits to a ball gown.
- Ember approves the funding (shockingly quickly), which means the temple is all?in on her public re?entry.
- Emlyn requests the designer bring her sketchbook—immediately winning Milvara’s respect.
- Cultural differences shine: Emlyn’s “normal attire” nearly makes the designer faint.
- The chapter closes with Benger excitedly preparing to test Emlyn’s walking progress in the chapel—another major milestone.
Boltir’s Tip Jar
Coins:
Previous total: 344 coppers
Add +6 for fashion chaos, strategic dressmaking, and Ulwin being shooed away.
New Total: 350 coppers
Random Object:
A tiny scrap of golden brocade from Milvara’s doomed commission—rescued from a bin and now proudly tucked in Boltir’s beard as a “fashion statement.”
Snips the Crab:
Snips scuttles in wearing:
- A miniature thimble helm
- A spool of thread as a backpack
- Three pins strapped to his shell like throwing daggers
He is ready for couture combat.
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