“Come on, tell meeee!” Ann whined. Rosalyn and Kat were acting all flustered and wouldn’t tell her why, no matter how much she asked. Kat looked horny and Rosalyn appeared supremely satisfied with herself. Something had happened, and it wasn’t the haircut, nor the painted nails.

I leave these two alone for one morning and they’re already keeping secrets, Ann thought. She wasn’t really holding it against them. It was just fun to play things up. The curiosity, however, was maddening. They deserved to be all romantic with each other, sure, but she wanted to know too.

“Nae, not gonna,” Kat said for the third time. “Between me an’ Rosalyn.”

“Sure was,” Rosalyn giggled.

“Swear to Orenous, I will find out,” Ann grumbled playfully. 

“Some day we’ll tell, but not today,” Rosalyn tittered, mischievous glee in her hazel eyes.

“Where are Bren an’ Lucia?” Kat asked, looking around the square. “We were tae meet at this statue.”

They were in the higher end district once more. Crowds were lighter here, and they’d chosen the spot due to its distinct statue depicting one of the old Bultrong kings before the Farragher line had risen to their position. He was wide, barrel chested, with arms the size of tree trunks. A magnificent specimen of the race, as far as Ann had seen. His beard was ridiculously detailed, and the sculptors had taken exhaustive effort to get as much detail as possible from the stone. Looking closer, she even saw areas where pores remained, spared from the weathering effects of time.

She’d moved to inspect the ancient man’s armour when Bren and Lucia appeared out of the crowd. “Apologies. We missed each other at our meeting spot. I swear we walked by each other multiple times.”

Ann cocked an eyebrow, ears perking up. Says the pair that are magically connected. Right. “Well, that’s awkward. How was your morning?”

“Relaxing,” Bren shrugged. “I found some old records of the before times. Ancient histories and descriptions of what was known as a newspaper. Similar to our broadsheets. It detailed the news of the time, how the city was doing, crime reports, events. No details, but that the concept has survived and resurfaced is interesting.”

“How ‘bout ye, Lucia?” Kat asked.

“Found the hunter. Confirmed dragon scale. Says it’s not like any he’s seen. Too small. Makes sense. Not really one. Said there’s magic. Protective. Hardening. Possible water dragon from guess. Left scale with him. Wanted to test it.”

“Ah, guess that makes sense. So, water dragon, eh? Kinda liked the fire breathin’ ones.”

“Who knows? Could be a blue species of fire breathers,” Rosalyn said, putting a hand on Kat’s bicep. “Don’t give up hope yet.”

“Aye. Gonna be spittin’ flames in no time. Anyway, we gonna get this shite o’er with so we can ‘ave a date?”

“Ugh,” Lucia groaned, then nodded. “Fancy clothes.” The words sounded like a curse the way she said them.

“You’re all going to look awesome. Come on,” Ann laughed, taking off ahead of everyone. It only took a moment of her confidently striding before she realised she had no clue where the fuck she was going and deferred to Bren’s guidance.

Soon they arrived at a unique building. It was less a building and more of a massive tent. The walls were either made of, or covered with, multi-coloured silks and linens. It was extravagant in a way Ann hadn’t seen yet. The doors were wooden, carved with the images of looms, with vertical bar door handles in the shapes of needles. As she held the door open for Kat and Rosalyn, Ann noticed the hinges were shaped like spools. This place was insane.

“Welcome one, welcome all, to my establishment. Zabel Stanosvek of Stanosvek’s patterns and propriety. At your service.” The voice was all around them, but Ann couldn’t see exactly where it was coming from. It was a husky female voice, rich and exuding energy.

Then she spotted her. Up above, a woman with six eyes was looking down at them, four human arms gripped strips of silk, while two more worked on tying off a ream of fabric. Stopping her work, she let go and slid down the strands with the practised grace of a circus performer. Her skin was a mottled pale pink and darker brown, patterned with vitiligo. She had long blue hair tied into a long ponytail that dangled as she twisted her way down.  ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ NoveIＦire.net

“Good tae meet ye, madam Stanosvek,” Kat greeted her.

“Your highness!” Zabel exclaimed, blinking with four of her six eyes. “Goodness me! I didn’t expect such distinguished patronage on this fine afternoon. Have any of you visited my humble shop before?”

After everyone shook their heads, she landed and stood up straight, clasping her arms in an array of poses around her. “Welcome, honoured guests. An introduction, first. As many have asked, and I realise it is ambiguous, I am a Vulhardrin of the Arachnid family. Arms and eyes were the pieces of nature I was blessed with, none of the silk production, sadly. I am a purveyor of textiles, seamstress extraordinaire, and should the fancy catch me, play the mandolin. Let me tell you, the extra hands help with these things. Questions?”

Ann raised her hand. “Sorry, I’m from an isolated Lupine tribe. How do you see with all the eyes?”

“Quite alright…”

“Annita, sorry,” Ann blushed.

“Annita. Well, my Lupine cousin, and my what a bestial figure you cut. We will get to that later. Ideas, ideas. My vision is a complicated array of senses. Only these two eyes,” Zabel pointed at the ones where normal eyes would be with two hands. All six were completely black, with no distinct pupils or irises, “are capable of normal sight, with detail. These two,” she pointed at two pairs above them with her remaining hands, “are less capable. They can see light and detect rapid movement, but I can see no detail from them.”

“The arms sure are cool, though.”

“Oh yes! I agree wholeheartedly,” Zabel beamed. “Being able to do more at once has been a Godsend for working with textiles and weaving. I hardly need my own assistant.”

“Yes you do. You get so absorbed with the whole making of things you forget about selling and finances,” a voice came from behind a looming stack of fabric.

“Jeanne, that is what I have you for,” Zabel giggled. “Please, meet our clients. This is my partner, Jeanne. They’re the light of my life.”

“And the reason we still have such a good spot in the city,” said the person who walked around the corner. They were Alfhindur, but Ann couldn’t quite pin down their gender. They had short cut white hair, neat and clean, only slightly longer on top. They regarded the group in the sales floor with piercing purple eyes behind rectangular glasses, a string of beads looping back behind their neck. Jeanne wore a white linen blouse with pressed tan slacks and shining black shoes. They cut a striking figure despite their simplistic clothing. “Welcome to Zabel’s. I am Jeanne Stanosvek, as you may have guessed. How can we be of service?”

“Erm,” Kat grunted, then looked at Ann, pleading her to step in.

“We have a ball coming up. The eldest princess invited all of us and we need dresses for Kat and Rosalyn, and whatever Lucia would prefer,” Ann explained, gesturing to each of her friends in turn.

“Three outfits and for a high society event,” Jeanne nodded, whipping out a notepad from a pocket. “Dresses for the two. Matching styles would be best, Zabel, though we are going to use different colours. Any relations between you all? Just so we might coordinate better.”

“The three of us are together,” Ann said. “I’ve got a simple black thing that comes down to just above my knees and a nice hat.”

“Hmm,” Zabel hummed, looking Ann over. “That would do for a more casual environment, but not a ball. Well, maybe. You are quite stunning. If that is what you want to wear, I will not fight it. Katlyn, Rosalyn, do you have preferences in the colours of your garments? Styles?”

Rosalyn peeked out from behind where she’d hidden behind Kat. “Um, no? I don’t know. I’ve never had something like this.”

“A darling beauty like yourself? Really?” Zabel looked shocked, all six eyes blinking.

“I, um, I kinda don’t have much. Didn’t. Still don’t?”

“New to the riches of life,” Zabel asked with a smile, taking the time to gather her dress to sit on the floor, making herself not intimidating whatsoever. “I remember when I started up. Apprenticing as a seamstress. Don’t worry, I will take good care of you. So, colours?”

“Um, so, I do magic and it’s all lightning and wind, with some thorns and stuff?”

“An adorable face hiding the fierceness of a storm. I like the concept. I think I can work with that. What about you, highness?” Zabel asked, remaining seated and craning her neck to look up at Kat.

“Blue. Fer sure blue. I’m not good wit’ this shite, though. Do what ye want, I guess,” Kat shrugged.

Zabel leaned over, looking at Jeanne, who was in the middle of taking Lucia’s order. The Alfhindur was scribbling notes furiously as Lucia relayed her wants in her characteristic terseness.

“Jeanne might be a better fit to design your dress. The way I see it, you will prefer something that is easy to move in, yes?”

“Aye. Would be nice,” Kat nodded. “Not too restrictin’.”

“You have large arms. Not something that most dresses are designed to accentuate. An idea. Do you have any preferences for covering your arms for any reason?”

“Nae.”

“Wonderful. We will go with a one shouldered design. Enough to conceal and provide allure on one side, while displaying your strength on the other. Would you like it to be tight around your midsection or loose?”

“Tight, but only enough tae keep close tae me skin.”

“Tied up the back,” Zabel nodded. “Long slit up the left leg, showing off what I can see are muscular legs. You really are the mountain of muscle the reputation describes. Good. Now, with these, I would suggest heels. Boots are absolutely a no-go. We do not provide these, so you will need to reach out to a cobbler. I suggest a darker blue for those to contrast against your skin.”

“Gotcha. Came prepared wit’ me measurements,” Kat said, handing over a card very similar to Ann’s.

Zabel took it, then moved over to a ledger and started copying the information.

Ann walked up to her girlfriends and put a hand on their backs. “You two look so tense. Relax.”

“Not me happy place,” Kat grumbled.

“She seems nice, but this place is so all over the place it’s like it’s going to fall on top of me at any second,” Rosalyn complained, looking around at the neat stacks of fabric.

“We’ll be done soon. You’re going to need to get measured, though, Rosalyn,” Ann warned. She wedged herself between Kat and Rosalyn, pulling them both into a hug. “Thanks for humouring me with this. I owe you.”

“Don’t owe ye nothin’,” Kat sighed. “Needed this shite for a while. Just finally caught up tae me.”

“I still owe you for this being a thing in the first place,” Rosalyn mumbled, nuzzling her face into Ann’s side.

Ann wrapped her tail around Rosalyn’s waist and held her close while Zabel wrote. “Any idea on what you want, Rosalyn?”

“Skirts,” Rosalyn said immediately. “Like the pictures in books. I want to look pretty and fancy. Maybe poofy sleeves, too.”

Ann pictured Rosalyn in the victorian style she’d just described and started laughing.

“What?” Rosalyn groaned.

“Nothing. Just, you described something I know from fairy tales from my time. It’s just a funny coincidence. I think you’ll look amazing in it.”

“Plus, if there are so many skirts, I don’t have to wear heels,” Rosalyn said with a certainty in her voice. “I don’t know how I’d manage to walk in those dainty things. They look so precarious.”

“Yeah, no shit. I wore them before I had paws and they took some getting used to. Thank Orenous for not making me with normal feet,” Ann laughed.

“Get yer laughs in. Shite. I might be as tall as ye are wit’ the blasted things,” Kat grumbled.

Ann felt her heart skip a beat at the thought. “Yup. Definitely not letting you whine your way out of that, now. I want to look straight at you when we dance.”

“Does sound kinda excitin’,” Kat said with a blush. “Feck, ok. Ye’ve found one good point fer the torture devices.”

“And then there’s little, short, me,” Rosalyn said, looking up at her taller lovers.

“Oh, but you get the best treatment,” Kat said, ruffling the Druid’s hair. “Ye get tae be picked up an’ twirled like a real lady. When ye’re dancin’ wit’ me, ye’re not touchin’ the ground. Well, unless I break a heel, fall on me arse, make a fool o’ meself.”

“Oh no, to be trapped in a tangle with my girlfriend. The horror!” Rosalyn laughed. The sound eased a little tension and even Lucia, still being picked at for details by Jeanne, relaxed a little.

Zabel came back over, a notebook in one pair of hands while the others were fiddling with several pieces of fabric. “Pardon, I heard the general request while transcribing Katlyn’s details. Skirts can work wonderfully. I think an off-white bodice and petticoat would do best, then a darker skirt and underskirt, progressively darker for each layer, would work. Decorations running the length in a bright white along the underskirt and skirt would work for lightning. Would you like lace? We could do some at the ends of your sleeves, with the same concept as the underskirt.”

“Hold on, let me, um, put this together in my head? What’s the skirt and underskirt?” Rosalyn asked.

Zabel smiled and sat, flipping a page over in her notebook, and started sketching out the design for Rosalyn’s approval.

Ann left Kat with Rosalyn for emotional support and wandered over to Lucia to see what she’d been requesting.

“I disagree,” Jeanne protested, a hint of frustration in their voice. “A touch of femininity in your ensemble would do you well.”

Lucia looked grumpy, and Ann decided to just listen in. Bren was standing right there, clearly trying to play mediator.

“Lucia, they have a point. Even with the blouse, having the neckline be more open would increase the appeal of the outfit.”

“Not trying to appeal,” Lucia protested. “Just look nice. Don’t care about others.”

“Lucia,” Bren sighed. “I understand the thought. Kat has said the same countless times. I would normally not protest, however we are trying to make an appearance for Annita in high society. Jeanne, is there any way we can make the blouse able to close up without being too noticeable? That way we can have the initial impression and then give Lucia comfort?”

“Hmm, possibly. A double layer in the hem would allow a loop to pull the halves of the shirt together. A cravat would be out of the question if the blouse is to be open. That should work, though. Now, you wanted the sleeves to have the green vines to match the tattoo on your right arm, and black words to match the one on your left?”

“Yes. No negotiation,” Lucia nodded firmly.

“I’ll need to take a drawing of your arms, then. Thankfully, the black pants are easy enough. Purchase some black shoes to match, and that should be it. I suggest a piece of jewellery for your neck, and a pair of earrings, no matter how simple. Where you will be, they will expect as much.”

“Will… consider,” Lucia grumbled.

Jeanne shot Bren an exasperated look, and he just shrugged back.

“Very well. Come with me, and we will get your measurements,” Jeanne said, ushering a reticent Lucia further into the store.

“She fighting it all that hard?” Ann asked Bren as they watched the pair disappear.

“As tenaciously as a twinwolf. Jeanne tried to get her into a dress at first, but it was obviously futile,” Bren laughed.

“Yeah, she really doesn’t seem like the dress type. Get her hair in a high ponytail, though, and with that outfit they just described, she’s gonna be really handsome.”

“I can see it,” Bren nodded. “Maybe that is where we can fit the jewellery in. Holding the hair up. She might accept that.”

“Try to get her to accept silver, and a red gemstone. That’ll match her eyes and work with her black hair,” Ann suggested.

“You have an eye for this.”

Ann shrugged, tail betraying her happiness at the compliment. “You draw enough characters for people and you pick up a lot of fashion. That’s just colour theory.”

“And hair styling. If you were not a warrior, I would suggest you try your hand in a place like this.”

“Eh, had enough of that for one lifetime. Besides, gotta figure out the Warped to stop whatever’s happening to Kat before I can think about other stuff.”

“Very true. Oh, looks like Zabel has finished up with Rosalyn. Let us see what she has chosen.”

The two wandered over and joined Kat and Rosalyn, admiring the drawing on the sketch pad. It was gorgeous, with flowing skirts that layered, barely brushing the ground, but would kick up when Rosalyn walked, showing the rest. Four layers in total, going from white to dark grey like a thundercloud. The bodice would hug Rosalyn’s waist in a corset, after which it would widen to accommodate her ample chest. From the sketch, it would show off Rosalyn’s cleavage enough to be proud of the display, but not overly revealing, with a square-cut neckline. The sleeves joined the rest of the garment, covering the shoulders, and ended at the mid-forearm where they transitioned into hanging frilly lace.

“I love it!” Rosalyn clapped, taking the notepad and showing Ann, Kat and Bren excitedly. “Look! It’s like a dream! I can’t believe I can have this! Oh, if mom and dad could see it!”

“I’m sure you’ll ‘ave a chance tae show ‘em,” Kat laughed.

“I’m gonna make sure you do.” Ann couldn’t help but beam at Rosalyn as she stared at the design with glee.

“Now, madam,” Zabel said, rising and extending the lowest of her hands, “come with me, and we will get your measurements.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure!” Rosalyn said, taking the hand tentatively. She’d warmed up to Zabel a little, Ann noted.

Lucia’s measuring took about twice the time Rosalyn’s did. Ann couldn’t be sure if that was because of Zabel having four more hands than Jeanne, or if Lucia was being difficult. Honestly, with the grumbles coming from Lucia and Bren’s annoyed expression while she was being fitted, Ann leaned towards the stubborn Thrundol being herself.

“Now, this is the down payment. For detailed work such as Lucia’s shirt, this will take upwards of a week and a half. Is that acceptable?” Jeanne asked, sliding the ledger over to Kat.

Kat looked over the number, then made a note. “Aye. That’ll work. I’ll ‘ave the money sent over in a bit. Don’t ‘ave it on me.”

“Of course, highness,” Jeanne bowed. “Your word is absolutely accepted. We will start on the order immediately.”

“Oh, I already have,” Zebal called from above, gathering fabrics as she swung from dangling strips of silk. “I look forward to your return! Have a pleasant day!”

Kat and Lucia let out long sighs as they exited the shop. “Feck, I’d rather fight off a pack o’ Quillbears. More relaxin’.”

“Agreed,” Lucia grunted, adjusting her shirt after having to put it back on.

“Well, now that you two have been put through hell, should we grab lunch?” Bren suggested. “I saw a lovely sandwich place that was not here last time we were in the city, Kat.”

“Aye. That’ll work,” Kat agreed.

“I am hungry,” Rosalyn nodded.

“Sandwiches!” Ann cheered with a raised fist as the group set off after Bren.