“I have a better idea,” said Charlotte.
The next day, Charlotte stood out in the street outside of Mrs. Knox’s bakery with a tray in hand. Mrs. Knox had worried Charlotte would catch a chill, but she didn’t mind the cold, and it was a lovely and sunny day anyway.
The samples worked even better than expected. It seemed like everyone in town came into the bakery that day, and maybe some of the visitors here for the Solstice tree lighting too, so many so that Charlotte had to abandon the samples to help Mrs. Knox keep up with the demand.
She left the tray outside, watching through the window as it continued to do its job of pulling people in while she helped the customers.
As it was nearing time to close, Charlotte headed back out to bring the tray in to wash. There, sampling one of the treacle biscuits, was Julian.
He chewed slowly, smiling to himself before seeing her and quickly wiping the crumbs from his hands. “Not bad,” he said.
“Your move,” she replied, taking the tray from underneath him and pulling the door shut behind her.
Chapter Nine
THE DRESS
Alison
Alison was grateful to have Rinka with her at her wedding dress appointment.
Rinka had spent the summer working with Lydiach, the green-haired fairy tailor who had made her gowns when “Lady” Rinka’s had been “thrown overboard” during the pirate takeover of the Wilderise ferry. (In reality, Rinka’s trunk had arrived a few weeks later unscathed, but it certainly hadn’t been filled with the fine dresses the fairy tailor had made with the crown’s coin.)
Which is to say that she was much better equipped to discuss dresses than Alison, who only owned about three of them. Trousers just made more sense in the city when she was commuting, and they made more sense in the country working in the garden and riding on horseback.
But a wedding was not an exercise in practicality. “It’s your day,” said Lydiach, flitting around on tiny white wings carrying stacks of bridal magazines and bolts of silky fabrics. “Tell me what your wildest dreams are, and I’ll make them come to life.”
A bold statement, but Alison would expect nothing less from a fairy. Although she knew that Lydiach and her family preferred life amongst the people, a life that meant largely abandoningpublic magic usage due to King Derkomai’s distaste for it, Rinka had shared with her a suspicion that her gowns couldn’t possibly have been made by such tiny hands in such a short time. If Lydiach used a bit of the old magic in the privacy of her workshop, she’d receive no judgment from Alison.
But Alison had no idea what her wildest dreams were, or if she did, they hadn’t involved dresses that looked like they were made of whipped cream.
“Let’s start with this one,” said Rinka, flipping through the magazines. “Princess Chloe likes this one, and she has great taste.”
The gowns within were illustrated beautifully, but to Alison, they all looked rather similar. “Ah, the lace sleeves on this one are nice,” said Lydiach, pointing to a gown that looked to Alison like…well, a gown. “I have a lace like that. Let me find it for you.”
The fairy flitted off again.
“This fitted waist would be nice on you,” said Rinka. “You’re so thin, you’ll want the boning to give you some curves.”
“Mmhmm,” said Alison. She knew some of those words.
“What about a bias-cut satin?” said Lydiach, returning with the lace and handing it to Rinka to examine when Alison appeared uninterested. “That would accentuate her figure. Just a simple neckline—a scoop or a cowl neck, maybe.”
“With some satin flowers maybe like these,” said Rinka, flipping a few pages over.
“Or maybe the lace over the sleeves,” said Lydiach.
“That might be too fussy for her. What about a belt? Weyland could make her a buckle or a brooch,” said Rinka.
“That would really bring in the waist,” said Lydiach.
“Alison?”
Alison hadn’t heard a word they were saying.
“Alison, are you alright?” asked Rinka. “Sorry to talk so much jargon. Do you see anything that you like?”
“I’m just…I’m a little overwhelmed,” said Alison, pushing the magazines away, tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
