So I did.
One of the women opened it. The other lifted the tissue with gloved hands.
My mother’s dress appeared again: green silk, silver branches, the left sleeve waiting with its bright new band.
The Mark on my wrist throbbed but I kept my hand at my side.
“Remove your coat,” the taller woman said.
“Is Cosima Verraine attending?”
Caswell’s attention shifted to me.
“Verraine has requested attendance.”
“Is she attending?”
“Her request is under review.”
“What a surprise.”
“Remove your coat.”
I didn’t move.
One of the mirrors caught me standing there: ordinary uniform coat, messy hair, chin raised too high because if I lowered it I might collapse completely.
Caswell stepped closer.
“The fitting cannot begin while you are wearing your coat.”
“Then it sounds like we’ll have to wait for Verraine’s attendance to be approved.”
The taller woman set the tissue down.
The shorter one glanced toward the small basin.
Then the door opened.
I didn’t turn fast enough to hide my relief.
Cosima entered first.
Rev came in behind her with a tray of pins in both hands andan expression so mild I had to bite back a laugh that I knew would turn hysterical.
“LeJoi is not assigned to this fitting,” Caswell said.
“She is carrying pins,” Cosima said.
“Any attendant could carry pins.”
“Then you should have no difficulty treating her as the attendant I have chosen to carry the pins.”
Rev lowered the tray onto the table.
“I am very easy to overlook,” she said. “I won’t be a problem.”
Caswell disagreed with every word of that judging by his face but he had the discipline not to say so.
