by T. A. White
Tate’s eyes bulged. “I don’t think that will be necessary. Anything you have on hand will be fine.”
“No, it won’t,” the woman snapped. “This is the problem when someone is suddenly elevated to your status; they have no idea how important appearances can be. You’re like a blind person walking through a room filled with eggshells.”
Tate fought to keep her thoughts hidden. Clothes were not that important unless they prevented you from freezing.
The woman was sharper than Tate had given her credit for, picking up on Tate’s disgruntlement. “You disagree?”
Tate said, “They’re just clothes.”
“Saviors rescue me from naïve idiots,” the woman muttered. To Tate, she said, “They’re not just clothes. They’re a first impression. Once a person has formed an opinion of you, it is three times as hard to change.”
“You think clothes are more important than actions?”
“Not at all, but first impressions are rarely formed from actions. People look at you and form an opinion. Rich, poor, inept, professional. We do it all the time. Walking down the street, you can’t take the time to form an assessment of every person based on their actions. You look at their clothes, the way they walk, how they talk and from that information you make a snap judgment. With the right outfit, you can make it so you never have to work to gain a favorable opinion.”
There was some truth in the lady’s words, but Tate still wasn’t quite convinced. You might make a snap judgment about someone based on external factors, but the moment you got to know them a little better that opinion would be validated or invalidated based on actual evidence.
The woman’s lips twisted into a half smile. “When you stepped into this shop, what was the first thing to cross your mind?”
Tate thought about it as the woman sorted through several pieces of clothing she’d grabbed from one of the racks around the room.
“Quality.”
“And why did you think that?”
Why did she think that? She couldn’t point to any one thing.
“The sound dampener. The presentation.”
“So, you formed an impression based on what things looked like.”
“But my impression would have changed if you had acted differently.”
“But it would have taken more evidence to the contrary to get you to change your mind and assume your first impression was incorrect,” the woman said holding up a dark blue fabric to Tate. She nodded and set it aside before holding up a pink fabric. This time she shook her head and dropped it.
“Stay here,” the woman said. “I’ll grab the dress for you to try on.”
The woman was careful as she pushed her way through the curtain, making sure Tate wasn’t exposed to the other room. Tate stepped down off the platform and moved around.
A woman stalked through the curtain and came to an abrupt pause at the sight of Tate.
“Roslyn,” Tate said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“I shop here. Ashwin has been making my dresses since I came of age.” Roslyn tilted her head, her eyes going to the dragon tattoo. “It’s true. You are one of the Dragon-Ridden.”
Tate touched the tattoo and moved back to her platform. She was surprised at the comment. She would have thought Roslyn had seen Ilith before. Then again, she supposed not. Ilith tended to nap when it was time for lessons and would often find her way to Tate’s back for her snooze fests.
“That’s what they tell me.”
“You are the first female to take a dragon,” Roslyn mused. She didn’t sound jealous, more like she was giving a recounting of facts.
“So it would seem.”
Tate was always uncomfortable when people pointed that piece of information out. As if they were saying that a woman shouldn’t have a dragon. Roslyn didn’t seem disapproving, though.
“How did you do it?”
“Why? Are you wanting your own dragon?” Tate shot back. She didn’t want to admit that she didn’t remember how she came to be in possession of Ilith. The best way to avoid the question was to ask a few of her own. Ones designed to put her interrogator on the defensive.
“Yes. It had occurred to me to attempt a bond.” Roslyn’s voice was frank and her gaze direct. Tate’s answer was important to her, though Tate couldn’t fathom why. Roslyn’s family, from what Tate could tell, was powerful and wealthy. She didn’t need a dragon to gain acceptance. Her family lineage did that for her.
“Why? From what I understand, it’s highly dangerous. I’m told there hasn’t been a new bond in nearly a century.”
“With the exception of yours.”
Yes, there was that. Tate inclined her head.
“I have my reasons.”
That was illuminating.
“I’m sure you do,” Tate said, giving her a sharp smile. She had her reasons to keep her memory loss to herself. It wasn’t hard to find out for whoever did the research. Jost’s entire crew, along with Ryu, Dewdrop, Night and a few of the emperor’s men knew about the blind spot.
Roslyn’s lips parted. She got the message. Her face fell before she mastered her expressions and gave Tate a nod.
“Fair enough.”
It didn’t look like Roslyn was giving up, more like she was biding her time.
“What brings you to Ashwin’s?” Roslyn asked.
Tate didn’t see the harm in telling the truth. “I need a dress for a dinner tomorrow. I was told this is one of the few places that might be able to accommodate my needs on such short notice.”
“They’re right. Ashwin’s gowns are highly sought after by the nobility. She’s very picky about who she lets buy her dresses. You must have made a good impression on her.”
Given the conversation she’d just had with Ashwin, she doubted it. She rather believed it was Dewdrop’s smooth talking that had gotten them a foot in the door, and unless she missed her guess, it was the dragon that clinched it.
Before Tate could comment, Ashwin bustled back through the curtain, her arms overflowing with fabric. She stopped at the sight of the other two women.
“Roslyn, I didn’t expect you for several more hours.”
Roslyn’s expression warmed as she gave Ashwin a happy smile. Tate realized she had rarely seen the other woman look comfortable or relaxed.
“My classes were canceled early because a certain someone made a mess of the classroom.” Roslyn’s eyes moved to Tate.
“I was only doing as instructed.” Tate couldn’t argue with the assertion that it was her fault. That floor had been destroyed. No other word for it.
“You two attend classes at the academy together.” Ashwin’s sharp eyes moved between the two of them.
“Just some classes,” Tate said.
Roslyn didn’t spend her entire day at the Academy, only attending those classes that interested her, and Tate wasn’t a formal student. Just someone who attended the classes Ryu thought were necessary to round out her knowledge base.
Ashwin shot Roslyn a questioning look. Roslyn gave a small smile and asked, “Are those the dresses you think will work on her?”
“These are the best I have for now. Hopefully, one of these will do. I don’t have the time to make her something from scratch.” To Tate, she said, “I hope you fit in one of these because I don’t have time for extensive alterations either.”
Tate hoped so too as she’d planned to take the dress with her when she left. She doubted she would have time to run back to this side of the city tomorrow.
Ashwin herded Tate back to the podium and picked one dress from the pile before handing the rest to Roslyn. Tate stepped into the dress Ashwin held and then waited as Ashwin buttoned it up the back, cinching and tightening as she went.
Tate looked at the stranger in the mirror and frowned.
“This color suits you.” Ashwin stood back, her hands on her face as she looked Tate over with a critical eye. It was a deep green that set off Tate’s pale skin and copper colored hair.
“This won’t work.” She wouldn’t be able to defend herself in case of attack, much less flee for her life if it was called for.
Ashwin ignored the comment. “What do you think?”
Roslyn cocked her head and frowned. “It is flattering but perhaps a bit too young.”
“Hm. Let’s try the next.”
Before Tate could protest, she found herself in another dress and then another until the ladies found one they could both agree upon. Neither one listened to Tate’s complaints, continuing as if she hadn’t spoken at all.
The dress they settled on was a soft blue and fitted snuggly through the bodice and waist. The bodice had a complicated interwoven pattern that turned the otherwise simple design into something unique and interesting. A sheer lace with blue detailing along the edges covered her shoulders giving the dress a sense of tongue in cheek modesty. The skirt flared out in a wide bell shape around Tate giving her the appearance of a fuller figure than she had.
The dress managed to make Tate seem soft and romantic. Two things she had never aspired to be.
They didn’t bother asking Tate’s opinion before they called Dewdrop in for the final approval.
He studied her with an intense gaze and tilted his head. “That’ll work.”
“No, it won’t. Look.” Tate tried to twist and turn, then mimicked throwing a punch. She could barely move and the skirt threatened to send her crashing to the ground when she took a step. “I wear this, and I’m dead as soon as we’re attacked.”
“I thought you were attending a dinner, not some back-alley brawl.” Ashwin’s voice held a sour note.
“There’s no reason it can’t be both,” Tate said. She knew her luck. The likelihood of her escaping the night without something happening was close to a fraction of a percent.
“She does have a point,” Dewdrop conceded. “She has the disturbing ability to happen on the weirdest circumstances.”
Tate gave Ashwin a look that said ‘see, I’m not nearly as crazy as you thought.’
“On the other hand, this dress gives you the presence you need. Nobody seeing you wearing it will assume you’re anything but a high-born lady. They’ll see you as fluff,” Dewdrop mused.
“I thought the point of this entire thing was to get them to respect me.”
“That too, but if we can get them to underestimate you, it would be even better.” He gave a nod. “Yes, I like this dress. It’ll do.”
Tate groaned.
The two ignored her as they got to haggling over the price of the dress.
“Make it double and I’ll throw in a few other dresses.”
“Pants, too.” Tate didn’t want to be stuck in a dress for the entire time. If she could get a pair of pants, she might be able to wear them if circumstances ever called for a good impression and the readiness to defend herself or others.
“High born ladies don’t wear pants unless they’re on a hunt,” Roslyn asserted.
Tate shot her a smile, one full of teeth. “Good thing I’m not a high-born lady, then.”
“Pants too,” Dewdrop said. “We find enough trouble that they’ll come in handy.”
“Those will take longer. I have nothing on hand.”
Dewdrop waved a hand. “That’s fine. You can deliver them to the same address as the rest of the extras. I’d like to take the dress she has on with us, though.”
Ashwin gave the dress Tate was wearing a critical once over. “It fits well enough. I doubt I could alter it anymore. I’ll get a bag to carry it in.”
Dewdrop clapped his hands together. “That takes care of that. Get changed so we can get to our other errands.”
“Yes, little dictator.”
He gave her a wicked grin, one that showed a glimpse of the handsome man he would be someday. “I’m so glad you realize who is really in charge of this circus.”
“You mean Night?”
He scoffed. “Not even.”
“Ryu, then.”
He gave her a look that said, ‘who are you kidding’, before turning and heading out of the changing room.
She smirked, enjoying the easy teasing.
“He is very comfortable with you,” Roslyn observed, her eyes lingering on the curtain before she turned to study Tate.
“Why wouldn’t he be?”
Ashwin snorted from where she was busy unlatching the dress. Tate’s ribs expanded with a deep breath. It felt like the first since she’d been strapped into the torture device.
“Maybe because you can change into a dragon and burn him to a crisp at a moment’s notice? Yet that boy has zero fear of you.”
“Why would he fear me when I’ve done nothing to cause that fear?” Tate asked.
“People are rarely so logical when it comes to fear. The knowledge that you could do something like turn them to ash is more important than the consideration of whether you would do it,” Roslyn said. There was a thread of sorrow on her face, as if this was something she’d experienced personally.
Tate wanted to ask if that’s what had happened to her, but she refrained. They didn’t have that sort of relationship, and she didn’t want to answer any deeply personal questions that might come her way as a result.
“Dewdrop and I have been through a lot together. He’s like a little brother to me at this point. He has no reason to fear me.”
Ashwin and Roslyn let the subject drop after that.
Tate dressed quickly as Ashwin stepped outside to pack the dress in a way that it wouldn’t wrinkle and take her payment from Dewdrop.
Roslyn busied herself disrobing in preparation for her fitting, leaving Tate to take her leave in silence.
Dewdrop waited for her outside, holding the garment bag and looking eager to head to their next destination.
“See, that wasn’t as bad as you thought,” he said as they stepped out of the boutique.
“In what way? I felt like a doll used to play dress up with.”
“It wasn’t that bad. You should be grateful Ashwin agreed to find the shoes and jewelry to go with the dress or we would be visiting many more stores today,” Dewdrop said as they meandered their way down the hall, their footsteps echoing in the vast space and joining the cacophony surrounding themselves.
Tate snorted. He only thought that because he hadn’t been the one to be wrestled into the tight-fitting bodice. She had a feeling the dress would leave marks if she wore it for more than a few minutes.
Her gaze wandered to their surroundings as she people watched for the next few minutes. The people here were the same as the ones in the Lower, just dressed in nicer clothes and shadowed by guards.
Her eyes caught on a familiar figure. The man was tall with blue black hair cut close to his skull.
“Isn’t that Blade?” Tate asked, nudging Dewdrop. His face was turned away from her so she couldn’t be sure, but he moved with the same lethal grace.
“Where?” Dewdrop asked, his voice tense.
“There,” she gestured with her chin.
She and Blade had a complicated relationship. He’d tried to kidnap her twice, succeeded once, but seemed to respect her enough that he helped her mourn a dead friend earlier in the year. She hadn’t seen him much since, though he popped up every now and again as if to check in. She knew he’d kill her if orders came from his Night Lord, Lucius, but until then, he seemed perfectly willing to let sleeping dragons lie.
Dewdrop shot a quick glance in the direction she indicated. He ducked his head and spun on his heel, dragging Tate along with him as he reversed course.
“Shit.”
Tate gave her friend a look. As far as she knew, Dewdrop had no reason to avoid someone from his former gang. Unless you counted that statement from Jost earlier. Then she could see why he was actively avoiding his old acquaintances.
“Why are we running
from Blade?” she asked in a calm voice.
“We’re not running.”
“Why are we walking extremely fast and hurriedly away from your old friend?”
“We were never friends.”
“Your partner in crime.”
“I wasn’t his partner. He likes to work alone.”
“And yet there were four of you the first time you tried to abduct me,” Tate said in a matter-of-fact voice.
“That was different. There were special circumstances.”
“Ah, thanks.” She loved it when he called her special.
“Not that kind of special.” Dewdrop gave her a vexed look as he dragged her behind a stall and then past another one.
She gave him a mocking look, not buying it for a second. They both knew she was pretty special.
He rolled his eyes, looking every inch the youth he was. “They thought you were more dangerous than you were.”
“Excuse me, I am dangerous. I escaped you idiots, didn’t I?”
“Only because you pissed Ricky off so bad that he lost his temper. If Blade had acted alone, you never would have escaped.”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree.”
He shot her a look that said he didn’t care if she disagreed. It didn’t change facts.
“Blade is the one they send when they have a difficult job.”
“You mean an assassin,” Tate said thoughtfully.
“More like someone who assesses a problem and then determines a permanent solution. It doesn’t always involve assassination.”
“And you think he’s after us?” Tate asked. She hadn’t really done anything that would draw either of the Lucius’s wrath. She hadn’t stolen deceptively dangerous hairpins from any of his men this week.
Dewdrop didn’t answer, and Tate stared at the back of his head.
“Or is it that you think he’s after just one of us. That being you.”
Dewdrop gave her a shamefaced look over his shoulder as he pulled her past another knot of browsers. That look answered her question and left her with more.
“Why is he after you?”
If it was because of some job Ryu got him involved in, she was going to have a rug made out of dragon skin soon.
