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Deferred decision
You continue to relax into the seat, but you cannot decide if you are going to try to sneak a nap in here or not - though it is a moot point so long as the dressmakers are in here with you. You are also trying to decide whether or not you should ask about the Inquisitor up the street. Under normal circumstances, you probably wouldn't - not when the Inquisitor and their Cleansers were so close at hand - but considering that you weren't the one who brought the topic to the table, then perhaps you can inquire without demonstrating any ... unusual interest. You are wrestling with both of those when one of the dressmakers - the younger one, you'd warrant - interrupts your thoughts.
"I thought I might say that working on your riding habit has been a wonderful opportunity for me. For us and Marpessa."
"O-oh? Is that so? Well, that is ... good. That is, good."
"It certainly is. Other girls our age at other establishments up and down Spinster's are just doing finishing work, fittings and fetching swatches. Instead, we got some real experience working on your rush commission. They even let me pick out the feathers!"
"Well, I'm very glad the - the, uh, sorry, the feathers? My dress has feathers?"
The two of them laugh, as if such a statement was absurd. For all you know, it might be.
"No, no miss. The <span class="mu-i">hat</span> has feathers."
"My dress has a hat?"
"Oh yes. You simply cannot wear a veil without a sturdy little hat - otherwise your hair would be in constant danger of mussing."
Setting aside that your hair is in a near-perpetual state of being mussed after eight years of being crammed under a mask and a lifetime of neglect, you focus on the more obvious question.
"My dress has a veil?"
"Of course, light and airy veils paired with high collars and thick scarves that contrast the primary color of the 'worn piece' are very in vogue right now."
Your head is spinning, and for once it is not out of fear or the deprivation of sleep. Well, not entirely from the deprivation of sleep anyway.
"Perhaps it would simply be quicker to ask what my dress does not come with."
The two of them laugh again, as if you had been witty. The older one of the dressmakers realizes it was a genuine question first, and with a hint of embarassment in her voice, she answers -
"At Festive Fabrician's, we don't <span class="mu-i">just</span> do dresses, no, we do 'worn pieces', which simply must include accessories. So to answer your question, your commissioned riding habit comes with an all-weather parasol, a parlor fan, a sun fan, one light veil in white and one very heavy veil in black, the scarf, the woman's flattop ... oh, the gloves and ... there was something else."
The younger one interjects.
"The woman's billycock?"
You poorly stifle a snigger, but neither of the two pay your childish outburst any mind.
"No. I mean, I forgot that one too, but there was something else."
"The hose and corset?"
"No, I figured those went without saying."
