“For what reason should it do so?”
Tedra sighed. “Well, that was a pleasant trip around the block. How about if I order you to call me Tedra? Would that do the trick?”
“Trick?”
“Would it work, an order? Or don’t the wishes of a challenge loser count for much around here?”
“Challenge loser? The mistress is teasing me?”
“Yeah, I’m a great kidder,” Tedra said with a derisive snort, deciding hearing her name on the girl’s lips wasn’t worth this kind of aggravation. “You can fetch me some clothes while I fight my way out of these farden covers—that is, if clothes fetching is part of your job.”
The girl had trouble nodding, she was trying so hard not to laugh. It probably was funny, seeing a grown woman wrapped up in a blanket tighter than a gift-wrapped box and not too clear on how to break out of it, but so Tedra was. She could have said something about the convenience of air blankets, which turned off as soon as you sat up in bed, leaving nothing to tangle your feet in, but discussing the advantages of her world that she was having to do without would only get her more aggravated.
“If I may?”
The girl crawled onto the bed, found the corner of the blanket that was tucked under Tedra’s hip, and pulled it loose; then the rest of the blanket followed. Tedra started blushing immediately, having forgotten her state of complete undress, but the girl didn’t seem to notice. Having helped with the immediate problem, she left the bed to take care of the next, heading toward a door Tedra hadn’t even noticed yesterday, probably because it was without a doorknob of any kind and stood between two of those great, long chests. It merely pushed open, revealing a room beyond that Tedra was curious enough about to investigate for herself, if she could manage to find the sheet that had become lost under the blanket.
When she arrived at the room some minutes later, draped in the light blue sheet and trailing a good eight feet of it behind her, it took her a moment to grasp that she was looking into an old-fashioned closet, something she’d never seen before. What she thought of as a closet was a mechanical rack that came out of the wall with whatever outfit she had dialed for. She had never thought to wonder where her clothes were kept, or where they went when her robocleaner disposed of them for cleaning—just more of the things she was discovering she took for granted at home.
As closets went, she had a feeling this one was larger than most, just like the bedroom it was connected to. Sight of a long mirror, a wide shelf topped with bottles and jars, and even a couch in one corner indicated it was also used as a dressing room. A number of chests and one entire wall of drawers, some too high for even Tedra to reach, suggested it might also be a place for storage. But there were clothes in evidence, a great many clothes, hung on pegs on the walls, on stands with sticklike arms extended from them, draped on funny-looking racks that stood upright but curved at the top to lay spread-outcomtocson. The setup made everything just about visible at first sight, eliminating the need for an inventory list.
Among the male attire of boots, sword belts, dozens ofbracs,all in blackzaalskin,andcomtocsin some really fantastic, glittering materials, the fewchaurilooked out of place where they draped over some of the racks. Tedra recognized the female outfits like those she had seen the women wearing on the streets yesterday. They were exactly the same, in thin, gauzy cloth, appearing to be no more than square-cut scarves double-draped and tied together.
“These three have been prepared for you, mistress, but if these colors do not suit, I can prepare you another. There are pieces in any color you could wish for.”
“Pieces” should have given Tedra warning, but even when she moved over to where the girl stood by the three outfits, she was still brought up short. The things really were nothing but scarves—”pieces,” as the girl called them—a top with a skirt, tied together and designed to just hang about the body.
Actually, they were a little more complicated than that, as Tedra saw when she picked up the top of the white one. It was made of a total of twelve scarves that would fall to about mid-thigh. “Prepared” meant the scarves were already tied together in tiny knots where they were supposed to be tied, a knot of six for each shoulder. Individually, each scarf was totally transparent; draped one over the other, they became less so, but not by much, except over the breasts, where they would cross over for an extra layer.
The skirt, now, was another story. It too had twelve square scarves to it, with about three inches of a corner from each scarf sewn to a narrow elastic-like band, one draping over the next to form an even circle around this band that would fit around the waist, and made the scarves lie partially open. None of these scarves were tied together or sewn together in any other way. They hung down the legs, the bottom points falling just short of the ankles, leaving gaps halfway up the calves between each one, and ready to part and expose shin, knee, and some thigh with the least wind or brisk walk.
There was a tie belt in the same material to fit over the top, to add form to the body, and probably to help keep the scarves covering what they were supposed to cover. Tedra couldn’t have cared less as she tossed the one she had examined back on its rack. She had only two words for the girl awaiting her decision as to which one she would wear.
“Forget it.”
“Mistress?”
“I wouldn’t be caught dead in one of those things, kiddo—whatisyour name, anyway?”
“Jalla, mistress. If these colors—”
“It’s not the colors, Jalla, though I’ve never been partial to pastels. It’s that peekaboo material, not to mention the farden things look like they’re designed for removing, not putting on. There must be something else I can wear.”
“But-”
“Something like what you’re wearing.” The white, sleeveless tunic and skirt were exactly like what the male Darash had worn, the only difference being he wore pants, and Jalla, a full, ankle-length skirt. “Now that looks cool and comfortable, and I wouldn’t feel like I’m playing watch-closely-and-you-might-see-something.”
“But this is not achauri.”
“So?”
“So the ladies of Kan-is-Tra wear only thechauri.You can wear only thechauri.”
And the servants did not, obviously. Nor did Tedra miss the fact that Jalla had included the whole country in that, not just the town.
“What happens if I refuse?”
Jalla actually grew alarmed at that question. “But you cannot. Theshodanwould not allow it.”
