Page 60 of Kingdom of Flames & Flowers
Zion nodded at my choice while Zariah smirked, picking the dress off the rack. He held it up to me and I snatched it from him.
“We’ll leave you to it, then,” he remarked, and they both sat down in the cushy chairs the girls and I once shared, eagerly picking up delicate porcelain plates and loading them with small sandwiches and fruit.
I missed the other girls horribly. At least if I went through with this, I’d see them around. The thought gave me courage, so I took the dress behind the changing screen set up next to the dress rack. I dropped the towel to the ground and stared at the dress. There were a lot of strings in the back I didn’t understand, and I wasn’t sure if it went over my head or if I was supposed to step into it. Over my head seemed safer, so I flipped up the hem of the dress and pulled it over myself.
I tugged the dress down over my breasts, but it got caught just underneath them. I tried to wiggle an arm down to create space, but only got myself stuck.
“Everything alright over there?” Zion asked.
I didn’t need help with a stupid dress. Admitting defeat would only reinforce that I was just some dumb mud quarter girl who didn’t belong in society.
“F-fine,” I squeaked out, steeling myself and then pulling down harshly on the dress with my free hand.
Rrrrrrriiiip.
The dress slid down my hips, but only because I’d practically split it down the middle. I stared at it in horror.
“I’ll uh … just get the servant, shall I?” Zion cleared his throat, and I heard him cross the room and open the suite doors. Zariah cursed, his footsteps disappearing frantically. Quick steps followed behind Zion as hot tears leaked from the corners of my eyes.
Maybe Iwasnothing more than a stupid mud girl. Hurried footsteps danced into the room and over to the screen.
“Oh dear. Don’t worry. We can fix this. Haza will make it right.”
An older woman with a short brown bob peppered with grey touched the edge of the dress with worn fingers. She gave me such a warm smile that a bit of my panic melted. The expert was here. I would be fine.
“Sorry, Haza,” I whispered. “It’s such a nice dress.”
“I don’t know what the prince was thinking,” she grumbled. “These dresses usually take two or three people to get into. You start by loosening the corset strings. See?”
She had me step out of the dress, and for once I didn’t care I was naked. The woman’s attention was fixed firmly on the dress. Carefully, she picked out the strings that were on the back of the dress, letting them out.
“Now, in you get. Arms up.” She got her hands under the hem and lifted, sliding the dress over my head. “Hold please,” she asked, pinching together the two ripped edges of the seam, and I looked over my shoulder and held them in place. Haza dug into the worn pouch hanging from her dress, and withdrew a needle and the thinnest, most translucent thread I’d ever seen.
Haza caught me staring. “I’ve been here the longest, so I get the good stuff,” she remarked with triumph. “Spidersilk is tough as nails but looks light and fragile. No one will see you’ve ripped it once I’m through.”
Haza set to work repairing the tear, and I wondered what other important skills I had yet to learn in life. Needlework seemed incredibly droll, but the ability to repair and strengthen your clothes was not one to be overlooked lightly. I fought the urge to twitch or move as she worked, an uncomfortable feeling of bugs crawling on my skin coming over me.
“There. Hold still.”
The odd feeling vanished as Haza put the spidersilk away and attacked the laces in the back of my dress.
“Not too tight!” I protested as it became difficult to breathe as the dress tightened around my waist. Haza clicked her tongue at me, but the laces loosened. I glanced down at the rip, but it wasn’t there. That had been where it was, hadn’t it?
“Good stuff, isn’t it? Now stay put and I’ll do your hair.”
Haza dragged a chair from the living area back behind the screen and pointed at it. I sat carefully, not wanting to damage the dress even more than I already had.
“Have to be honest, I’m tickled to finally meet the dragon-tamer mud girl,” Haza chattered away as she ripped the leather thong out of my hair.
I grunted in pain, but soon her fingers were combing soothingly through my scalp, rendering me boneless. Pleasure hummed in my veins that I hadn’t known existed.
“You’ve shaken things up. I like that,” she continued, twisting my hair this way and that, and digging out a handful of brown pins from one of her many deep pockets and jamming them into my hair. I winced, but stayed still.
“I’m going to leave off with the jewelry: makes a better statement. Plus, your shoulders look lovely on their own.”
Haza helped me up and clapped her hands together in dismay. “Oh! You need shoes! Silly me!” She darted from behind the screen and went to the dressing rack, then returned with bright gold and red slippers. “A pop of color suits; plus, it reminds me of the dragon!” She whispered conspiratorially, grinning like a loon. I smiled back, finding her attitude infectious.
“There we are. All ready. Call for me anytime you need it, you hear? I’d love more excuses to stick around.”
