Quoted By:
This girl seems to be unusually well informed, but you suppose Citizens are supposed to keep abreast of these things - even if they are kept from the Vote by their age and their sex. Their discussion then turns to the topic of the size and weight of different styles of fans, which might as well be spoken in a foreign language for all you understand of it. Any frustration at this development however, is precluded by the return of one of the dressmakers that greeted - or rather, <span class="mu-i">intercepted</span> - at the door.
"Mistress Cassandra agreed to have the riding habit brought here. Follow me, please."
So you do, careful to not provoke any of the older dressmakers or the young lady by looking in their direction as you pass from the front room, down a long, carpeted and vaguely familiar hallway to a dressing room that is slightly larger than your room in the Belfry and with much more furniture. The focal point of the room is the mirror, which not only runs from the ceiling to the floor without a single visible imperfection, but it has wings, so that you can see yourself from many angles at once. Beyond that, there is a round table that you think about setting your bundle down on before think better of it, a filled washbasin stand with what you assume are perfumes and fragrances alongside, a carpet that looks so thick and luxurious that you actually feel bad about walking on it with your boots and half a dozen chairs, each looking more elegant and comfortable. Oddly enough, there is one that has its bottom cushion overstuffed to the point that it is both comical and conical, and on a whim you sit down on it - smiling in spite of yourself, and imagining that you have alighted up a giant and exceptionally plush mushroom.
The woman looks at you, clearly bemused by something as well - but before you can figure out if you have made a fool of yourself again, you are interrupted as another one of the three dressmakers enters without knocking.
"Marpessa will be along as soon as she can once she finds someone free to haul the thing over here. Right now, all the men we could find in the Mistress's husband's place were either busy taking their lessons from that Inquisitor or too important to involve themselves with something like this."
Any fun that you were having sitting on an upholstered mushroom withers and dies at the mention of an Inquisitor. Well ... if there was an Inquisitor in the store, then you made the right decision by asking for the dress to be brought here, there are no two ways about that - though for the life of you, you have no idea what a sort of lessons an Inquisitor would have for a haberdasher. You could always ask ... but is it safe to sate that kind of curiosity? Actually ... instead of fretting over questions, perhaps you would be better served by using this as an opportunity to take a nap.
