I let out a deep exhale, regretting it as my brain takes that moment to remind me that I also have a hangover.
"Here, maybe have some of your tea while we wait," the first one says kindly, handing me my teacup and saucer. "Is it too hot?"
I blow on it. "No, I'm fine." I take a sip, glad that I made ginger and lemon tea — this will help ease the pain in my head. "Thank you."
"No, thank you," she says, giving me a smile.
"How can I help you ladies?" I ask, squinting over at them.
And maybe it's because I took such a bad knock to my noggin, but now, giving them a proper look, I realize these two orcwomen are beautiful. One is tall and willowy, her skin a mossy green color and her tusks not as prominent as is common with orcs. Her thick dark hair is pulled into a braid that goes all the way to her waist. The other is a little shorter, but more muscular, and her hair is cut into a severe bob that makes her look both fierce and stylish.
The taller one speaks, in a softer, more serene voice. "We're here to check out your wedding dresses for my wedding."
"And mine, too," the other one adds eagerly.
I laugh despite myself. "I do have lots of them."
The first one smiles. "I'm Ysolde Oakenshade."
"Brynna Oakenshade," chimes in her sister.
I give a pathetic wave. "Lisette Sunfell. But you can call me Lissy." I clear my throat and look around my shop, trying to figure out how best to serve these two orcs.
I've created plenty of wedding dresses for a wide variety of creatures, but this will be different. I've even dressed centaurs like Kentaria before. Orcs? Never. And through the fog, I can't for the life of me remember what their traditions are when it comes to their wedding dresses.
My grandmother would be ashamed of me if she knew.
As if sensing my thoughts, Ysolde goes over to my cutting table, feeling the leather through her fingers. "This leather you have out is the perfect material for my bodice," she says. "Almost like you were planning on having orcish customers."
My heart sinks for a moment when I realize that my grandiose plans for leather hangover-cure curtains will have to be put on hold for these orc women, but my mind quickly starts working through the best way of fitting it to Ysolde's frame, making the leather mold to her, showing off her assets as a proud orcish woman while making her feel every bit the bride she deserves to be.
"Sometimes the universe works out that way," I say, remembering the words of my grandmother. There's a fabric for every customer, Lissy. That is certainly true in this moment. "So leather for the bodice? I can certainly do that."
"Yes, but I want silk for the skirt and train," Ysolde says. "I'm marrying Duran Ironhoof. A minotaur," she adds quickly. "So it needs to be a blend of our cultures and traditions."
Luckily, I've worked on a few wedding dresses for minotaurs in my time. They're less rare to see in Starling Vale than orcs, and I know that they want soft and gentle as part of their traditions. That will work well as a contrast to the sturdy leather of the bodice that Ysolde is talking about.
"I think that would be beautiful," I say honestly.
Ysolde beams down at me.
"See?" Brynna says proudly. "I told you this was the place to go."
The door opens, and Torgan — because I know his name now as Torgan — comes in, huffing, carrying a little parcel for me. Like he ran the entire way between here and the spell shop.
Noemi came through for me, and I let out a sigh of relief.
"Took you long enough," Brynna mutters, even though I know that Torgan made near-record time getting there and back. I wonder if she overcharged him again, or if he told her the medicine is for me and she gave it to him for free, like she does for me.
"Starling Vale is… full of people," he says simply. He holds out the parcel to me, and I reach for it, but Brynna takes it in a huff before I can.
"Really, Torgan? Making the poor woman get up out of her chair to get her pain medicine?" She tsks and sits down next to me. "May I?" She indicates the teacup that sits on my desk.
"Sure," I croak, and I hate that I sound so out of it.
Brynna opens the parcel and taps some of the powdered pain medicine into it. "That should do it." She stirs it briefly, then picks up the teacup and hands it to me. "Try that."
I sip and immediately feel the relief from the potion. Nightshade? Some form of it? I can't remember at the moment, except that it's some sort of plant that, under unskilled hands, could kill me several times over. Not Noemi's work.
