Alison
Later in the week, Alison had her dress fitting at Lydiach’s shop.
She was still feeling a bit embarrassed about her first visit. Now that Rinka had been in town for a while, the wedding planning was much more under control, and she no longer felt the overwhelming sense of too many choices she’d felt during the first consultation.
“Now, Alison. If you’re unhappy with the design, there’s still enough time to make another, though it will be tight. We can change the sleeves or the lace; I can bring up the hem. Don’t be afraid to ask for what you like.”
Alison didn’t know much about what she liked, but she did know she liked the dress.
Rinka explained it to her as Lydiach placed pins in a few places, marking where to make adjustments. “You wanted something organic, so we went with this floral lace. See how it follows the lines of the dress like it’s growing from the ground beneath your feet? And we did sheer layers of the chiffon you liked draped into the train. Nothing too long or showy, just enough to blend it all together. And the sleeves—”
Alison let out a sob as Lydiach placed a matching chiffon veil on her head and a delicate wool shawl on her shoulders.
“Oh, are you alright?” asked Lydiach.
“Did I go too fast?” asked Rinka. “Sorry, I got a bit excited—”
“No, no,” said Alison as Lydiach flew over a handkerchief. She lifted the veil, watching her reflection smile through her tears in the looking glass. “It’s just so beautiful. I feel beautiful. It’s exactly right.”
“Oh, good!” said Lydiach. “Those are the tears we like to see.”
Rinka nodded. “I felt that way the first time I put on one of Lydiach’s dresses. She’s a miracle worker.”
“Nonsense,” said Lydiach. “I just highlight what’s already there.”
“This will be you soon enough,” said Alison to Rinka as she changed back into her plain blue dress. It looked strange on her now, like the wedding dress had revealed who she really was, and these clothes belonged to a stranger.
“I heard about that. Congratulations!” said Lydiach on the other side of the screen. “A royal wedding. When’s the big day?”
“A long way off,” said Rinka. “There’s going to be another interview with the same magazine to announce it in a few weeks. It’ll take most of the year to plan. Idris wants to have it here in Wilderise, but we’ll see what the king says. Queen Yuling may even attend.”
Rinka had told Alison the truth about Queen Yuling’s separation from the king. They had sent her a copy of their magazine debut and had just recently received a lovely letter of congratulations from her delivered all the way to Weldan House from Formosa. Alison imagined it must have been hard for her to be so distant from her children, and she was glad to hear that she might come to the wedding even though that might be difficult for her, too.
“A royal wedding in Wilderise! I hope you’ll think of me, not for the wedding dress, per se, but if you needed any other gowns—”
“Lydiach, I would not have anyone else dress me. Let’s get Alison married first, then we can all come look at designs. Idris tells me that the traditional Formosan gowns are lovely and would suit my red hair, at least for one of the events… ”
Alison was glad it was Rinka and not her that would be dealing with all the pageantry of a royal wedding. Her simple village affair was more than enough.
“Don’t lose any more weight before the wedding,” said Lydiach as they were on their way out. Alison had been neglecting her diet a bit lately. She forgot to eat sometimes when she was focused on her poetry.
“Let’s pop in and see Charlotte and Mrs. Knox next door,” said Rinka. “They’ll fill you out nicely with those biscuits of theirs.”
They thanked Lydiach and headed over to the bakery. They had originally planned on getting some of the delicious chocolate biscuits with the swirly tops to go with their tea, but Charlotte had just finished making some new truffle varieties and wanted their opinion before putting them on sale.
“This one has a hazelnut in the middle. I can’t decide if I like it better with the nut for the crunch, or if I like this one where we ground them into a cream.”
“Crunch, definitely,” said Alison as Mrs. Knox poured the tea and joined them at the table.
“Charlotte, bring them out some of the heart-shaped biscuits too.”
“Coming right up.”
“Did you hear those constables are back in town?” asked Mrs. Knox.
“DCI Tirrin and DC Lord Wexenas?” asked Alison.
Mrs. Knox raised her eyebrows. “Did you meet them last year? During the ink theft debacle?”
