Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Five — The Patrician's Armor
Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Five — The Patrician's Armor Patrice scanned us all up and down, then crossed one wing over his chest so that he could poke his chin with the other’s talon. “First, we need to work out the coordinations,” he said.I looked around, searching for a clue as to what he meant. The room, the very well hidden room, had a bunch of cloth bolts and some mannequins with nothing on, and a few sewing machines with big foot-pedals, but nothing that clarified what he meant.Rosaline nodded as if she knew exactly what he was talking about. “Of course. But you’ll have to give me a moment.”“Oh?” Patrice asked, one eyebrow rising.Rosaline turned towards Awen, Awen whose face was only just recovering from its burst of redness earlier. “So, Miss Bristlecone, would you do me the honour of accompanying me to the ball?”“A-ahwa?”Rosaline smiled, but even a cursory inspection showed that the harpy was actually rather nervous. Her talons were fiddling with the sides of her pants and she was shifting her weight from side to side. Even her smile had a bit of a wobble in it.Awen turned towards me, watery eyes filled with uncertainty. “If you want,” I said simply. Any more than that and I’d be pushing her one way or the other.“I... Miss Albatross... Rosaline. I’m just me,” Awen said. “I’m nothing special, not like my friends. But if you want, then-” She paused, a smile so big and happy spreading across her face that I was sure it was making her cheeks pinch painfully. “Then I’d love to be your date.”I clapped my hands together and only just held back the urge to hug Awen because Rosaline was already mid-glomp.“So, that’s two dresses which must compliment each other,” Patrice said. He wasn’t entirely unmoved by the scene, not judging by his secretive little smile. “And what about you, Miss Bunch, Miss Albatross?”I looked away from where Awen was holding back giggles as Rosaline nuzzled the top of her head. “Ah, um. I’m going with Amaryllis as friends,” I said.“Oh, are you now?” Amaryllis asked. “What if I have a beau to bring with me?”“She doesn’t have a beau,” I told Patrice. “That’s why we’re going together.”Amaryllis huffed in protest, but it was a ‘you’re right but I don’t want to admit it’ huff’ so I decided it was safe to ignore it.“So the second set needs to be complimentary, but not so much so that any fancy bird will be afraid of asking any of you onto the dance floor,” he said.I hadn’t considered that. “Sounds good,” I said. “Can my dress be blue?”Patrice tilted his head to the side. “I could work some highlights in.” He nodded. “We’ll start with you then!”What followed was a moment that felt kind of magical. Patrice pulled me to the side and circled around me, his wings folded at the small of his back and his head bobbing up and down like a chicken looking for grain.He nodded, then flicked a wing out to the side, sending a heavy gust of wind flying across the room. The girls squeaked and I ducked a bit as a bolt of cloth flew out of the side and smacked into Patrice’s waiting talons. “Let’s start from the ground up. I’m afraid you’ll need to see someone else for proper footwear. I don’t have the talent for such things, but Rosaline knows a few who can provide, I’m certain.”“Shoe shopping sounds nice,” I said.“Oh, it will be!” Rosaline cheered. “I know all the best places.”Patrice moved off to one side and deftly unfolded a partition that stood up to neck-height. “Go stand behind that, I’ll be passing you some clothes,” he said“You don’t need to take my measurements?” I asked.“I’ve looked at you, haven’t I?” he asked.Shrugging, I stepped behind the folding half wall and stood on my tippy-toes so that I could see Patrice at work. He barely paused as bolts of cloth flowed towards him. He cut apart and shaped the cloth with quick swipes of his talons and soon a needle with a long string of thread behind it was snaking through the air and sowing things together without him even looking.“Whoa,” I said. “That’s incredible!” I said.Patrice stood a bit taller at the compliment. “I’ve gotten my main class past its second evolution. Let me tell you, young Miss, being a tailor in a dungeon is not as safe as it sounds.”“Wow!” I said. “That’s really impressive. Is your second class tailoring-related?” I asked.“Wind Mage, actually,” he said. “Makes manipulating cloth easier and gives me some offensive options.”“Most tailors here level through practice,” Amaryllis said.He scoffed. “Most aren’t as good as I am. Try these on.” With a flick, all of the cloth came together and folded itself in midair only to land with a thump atop his hands all neatly pressed. He passed it to me over the edge of the half-wall.I got undressed in a hurry, then put the things he’d given me on one at a time.In the end, I was left standing in a tightly-fit pair of grey-black slacks, a bright blue blouse and a jacket.“The mirror is on the wall over there,” Patrice said while pointing off to the side.I stepped out from behind the half-wall and skipped over to a full length mirror hanging off one wall. The Broccoli in the reflection looked... older. The outfit reminded me less of a ball gown and a lot more of a business woman’s suit. It was all tight in places that made other places look more curvy and yet had sharp edges over the shoulders and sides that made it look tough.The pants had enough flow to them to be feminine, and the jacket emphasised a lot without showing anything. It also made my bum look great. I’d need to find a nice hat that went well with my ears sticking out above them, and some shoes, of course.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.“Ohh, this is gorgeous,” I said.“Of course it is, I made it,” Patrice said.“It’s certainly unconventional,” Amaryllis said.“Awa, I like it.”I nodded along. “I like it too!” I ran my thumbs through the lapels. “People will think I’m an adult now.”“Until you start talking,” Amaryllis said.“I believe it’s your turn, Miss Albatross the younger,” Patrice said.“Should I change back?” I asked.Rosaline nodded from her spot hanging off of Awen. “Yup. Don’t want to ruin the big reveal by walking around the city in your new clothes.”A quick change later and I had my awesome new sorta-dress tucked away in a bag that Patrice made from some scrap cloth with little more than a snap.Then it was Amaryllis’ turn to get all dolled up. Patrice tsked as he moved around her, but he seemed to come to a decision soon enough. “Perhaps an evolution on the standard cockatiel dress?” he muttered. “Yes. That will do. Go off and get undressed, I must work.”Amaryllis huffed and went off behind the partition for a bit while Patrice worked. It was a lot neater to see his work from up close, all the materials flowing into place just-so.When he gave Amaryllis her dress it was with a satisfied smirk.My best harpy friend stepped out a moment or two later, her talons tugging at the material clinging to her hips. I had never seen Amaryllis in something other than pants before. The way she described it, skirts were a no-go for harpies, but now she was in a very tight wrapped skirt that held her legs together and flowed down into a short train behind her.The top kept that wrapped look, exposing one shoulder and a bit of her back without giving away too much. It was made of the same grey-black material as my suit, with the inner layer a bright blue that only showed when she walked and exposed some of her legs.“Ohh,” I said. “You look very pretty!”She leveled a look at me, then moved over to the mirror to twist this way and that. “It’s a bit girly,” she said.“But you look nice,” I said. “Like a mature woman.”“Are you saying that I’m not usually a mature woman?” she snapped right back.“Exactly.”Amaryllis huffed and puffed a bit, but Rosaline and Awen both assured her that she looked very good, and once her ego was smoothed over I could almost see her accepting how she looked in the mirror.My harpy friend didn’t have the biggest self-image issues, not compared to some, but she did desperately want to be taken seriously, and that meant looking the part of someone capable.But capable didn’t mean not pretty.And then Patrice had both Rosaline and Awen step up. “I’ve made clothes for couples before,” he said while ignoring the way Awen ‘eeped’ at the word. “It is always a bit of a challenge. But a couple with mixed races is new. Miss Albatross, would you mind a more human-style dress?”“Ohh, that would be nice,” Rosaline said. “I can just imagine all the nobly old ladies getting their feathers in a twist.”“Indeed,” Patrice said with a dangerous smile. “I live for their scandalous disapproval. The more they squawk the more the younger generation flock to my new styles.”He had some cords flow around the two girls for a bit, then he nodded. “We’ll go with some more muted colours, the sort that won’t flash too hard in the current fashion, but a style that is completely different. A nod to two origins.”Rosaline nodded and Awen seemed to float along next to her.When Patrice sent them both to the other side of the divider to undress I was afraid that Awen might faint, but Rosaline told her that she’d go first with an airy giggle before pushing Awen into my open arms.“Are you okay?” I asked the shorter girl as I gave her a big happy hug.“Awa,” Awen whispered. “I’m... I... I’m very happy, but I’m also.” she paused and pressed her hands to her tummy. “There’s a lot of turmoil inside. I don’t know.”I hugged her harder. “You’ll be okay,” I said. “Take things one step at a time. And if you need to run away for a bit, we have a whole ship to ourselves now, right?”“I don’t think I want to run from this,” Awen said.The hug grew even tighter. Awen was just too precious, especially when Rosaline stepped out from behind the half-wall and she let out a little gasp.Rosaline’s dress was very much classical. With a big hem and flowing skirts set in layers of beige and brown and soft whites. There was some lace there too, but not that much, just enough to draw the eye up and to her exposed shoulder.“What do you think?” she asked as she spun around. “It’s a bit frumpier than what I’m used to, but it’s very... human-ish.”“It’s beautiful,” Awen said with simple honesty.Rosaline blushed happily and skipped over to the mirror to ‘ohh’ and ‘ahh’ at herself.“Your turn?” I asked Awen.“Um,” she said. “Mister Patrice, is it okay if I don’t try on the dress here? Please?”The man had a gleam in his eye. “Most certainly,” he said. “But next time, you have to tell me what she thinks, alright?”Awen nodded quickly.Rosaline was a bit put out at not seeing Awen all prettied up, but she didn’t make too much of a fuss. Soon money changed talons and Patrice let us go with one final suggestion. “Make sure that all those snobby old ones know that it is Patrice who made the works of art you are wearing!”
* * *
Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Six — Forewarned is Foreworn
Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Six — Forewarned is Foreworn Rosaline claimed to be the greatest expert in the matter of talonware in all of the Nesting Kingdom and beyond. A claim that Amaryllis seemed to grudgingly agree to. The elder sister was, according to Amaryllis, really fond of dragging people to stores to gawk at things.We got back into our carriage and were soon riding along through a section of the city filled with shops and little boutiques. “This is the retail district,” Rosaline said as she leaned over Awen to stick her face in the carriage’s window. “It’s where you can buy the best stuff.”I hadn’t been all that excited for the ball thing before today, but Rosaline’s enthusiasm about it was getting to me. Now I was kind of looking forward to it. “What’s a harpy ball like?” I asked as the carriage rolled off the main market street and onto a back road where there was plenty more room to park.Parking something pulled by horses was a bit trickier than parking a modern car with a transmission that could reverse and wheels that could turn a whole lot.“That depends on the kind of ball,” Rosaline said.“There are sorts?” I asked.Amaryllis huffed and opened the door next to her to jump out. “Of course there are sorts of balls. Each with slightly different etiquettes.”“Some,” Rosaline added. “Are a lot more fun than others. It really depends on their purpose. The seasonal balls held every year tend to be a bit less formal. Especially the Winter Ball over the solstice. Some, like the Ball of the Golden Peak, which is led by the military, are very stiff and boring. But I have to attend anyway because we sell ships to them every year.”“Okay,” I said. “And what about the one we’re going to?”Rosaline waited until we were all gathered at the back of the carriage before she went on. “This one will be a bit boring. It’s a political ball. Lots of hobnobbing and talking and making sure others know you’re bigger and better than they are.”“That does sound a bit boring,” I said.Rosaline gestured down the street and looked both ways before she ran across the street with the rest of us in tow. “Yup!” she said as she landed on the sidewalk opposite. “Did you want more of an itinerary for it?”“I guess that couldn’t hurt,” I said.She nodded along. “Different sorts of parties have different ways of doing things, and there’s always some variation depending on the host. In this case though it’ll probably start with everyone being welcomed in, then gathering in the main hall. Someone will give a boring speech, usually the host. Then a guest of honour will give another boring speech. And then it’s more, but shorter, speeches by a bunch of people.”“That’s a lot of speeches,” I said.“It is,” Amaryllis agreed.Awen nodded along. “That, ah, sounds a lot like some of the balls back home. But not the ones with Uncle. He... made sure there weren’t any speeches.”“How’d he manage that?” Rosaline asked. “I don’t think anyone except for the Goose Prince could get people to skip the speeches.”Awen shrugged a little. “He’s... important enough that people kind of need to let him speak if he wants to,” she said. The harpies nodded as if that made sense. “And when it’s his turn, he just tells one of his stories. One of the long ones.” Her face warmed a bit. “One of the very gr-graphic ones.”Rosealin tapped her chin. “So he ruins the speech part by being so scandalous that they... what, just cancelled them when he’s around?”Awen nodded. “That’s it, yes.”“No,” Amaryllis cut in. “You are most certainly not allowed to try the same tactic. I swear I’ll tell Clem and she will find a way to get Gen-Gen to tan your hide if you do it.”Rosaline cackled with mischievous glee. “Oh, I’d never,” she said. “But I’m sure I can convince someone to make a spectacle of themselves one of these days.”I didn’t quite know how to feel about that. On the one hand, it was a little bit mean. On the other, it seemed like an innocent enough prank to play. “Ah, what about after the speeches?” I asked.“After that?” Rosaline asked. “Then meals are served. Some balls have tables set up with heaps of appetizers. Some have live chefs that can cook fresh food for you while putting on a show. Some serve meals at prepared tables. Most mix it up a bit. I think the one coming up has arranged seating, so you can expect a five course meal and then a roving buffet with digestifs after.”“That sounds really nice,” I said. Like going to one of those fancy restaurants I’d seen in the movies.Rosaline hummed agreeably. “It can be. Having bad food at a ball you’re hosting is a huge social faux-pas.”“I can imagine,” I said.“So, after the meals are all eaten up-most of them are pretty light-there’s a bit more speech-making, but those tend to be less formal and you can eat while they talk. And then it’s mingling and dancing for a couple of hours until the desert is served.”“So that’s the fun part,” I guessed.Rosaline nodded. “It is! Once I managed to arrive so late that I got to skip all of the boring bits. It was wonderful. But then Clem-Clem gave me an earful.”“You deserved it,” Amaryllis said.Our talking had taken us long enough that we’d reached the main street with all the markets. Like Port Royal, the shops seemed to be more or less divided along utilitarian lines. Some groupings selling everyday items, others with a bunch of specialty shops all squeezed together.I found it a bit strange that two competitors would want to be next to each other, but it did seem to encourage them to go big with their advertising.There were panels all over with posters on them and big bright banners hanging above shop doors. Any place that sold food had a few samples out in front, steaming and warm so that their smells would fill the air, and the places that sold less edible things often had glass displays with all of their goods laid out on pedestals.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.The people though, were what really made things feel alive.Harpies were everywhere. Some flapping their wings, others inspecting new goods and some gathered into little pockets of gossip where one or two loud birds cackled away while others listened.There was a lot of raucous laughter in the air, and I felt myself grinning wide as a group of small harpies darted past, their feathers all fluffed up.I saw some grenouilles and humans too, even the odd ostri person walking head and shoulders above the common harpy. It was all very cosmopolitan.“It’s so loud here!” I cheered.“You would like that,” Amaryllis said.Rosaline snorted and poked her sister in the ribs. “Don't be that way. And Broccoli, you should see it when the buskers come out! Sometimes they’ll compete to see which one can outplay the other. It’s a hoot to watch. This way! Shoes await!”Shoe shopping with people who don’t have feet was a new experience. Harpy foot talons were very bird-like, which I supposed was only appropriate. That meant that most of the footwear they did have were more akin to wraps and sandals than anything else. Some had elevated soles meant to be tied in place beneath the rearmost talon and others were made to squish their three big ‘toes’ together.It all seemed a lot more complicated than buying shoes normally.The selection available for me and Awen was a bit smaller, but the place Rosaline brought us had professionals with the Cobbler class and they were able to make anything to order on the spot.In the end, I left with two pairs of shoes. One for everyday wear, and the other, a nice pair of black leather Mary Janes with a tiny heel at the back and a nice blue strap that matched my new blouse. Awen picked out a more adventurous heel that she apparently knew how to walk and dance in, and the harpy sisters both bickered and argued for a bit before buying half a dozen pairs of wraps and shoes, much to the evident content of the store’s owner.“What’s next?” I asked as I swung my bag around.“I’m thinking hats!” Rosaline said. She wasn’t wearing anything on her head, but a glance around showed that quite a few harpy women were wearing some sort of hat.Now that I looked, it seemed as if it was only the young that went without something on their head. The richer someone’s clothes, the more elaborate and colourful the headwear, which made its own sort of sense.“Is there a nice hat shop around here?” I asked.“The best!” Rosaline claimed with unusual seriousness.She led us along through the crowds until we reached a big store. The shop took up enough room for three others, with wide glass windows at the front split by statuesque columns, each one with rows of wooden heads with beautiful headpieces on them. From pointy wizard caps to pretty floral bonnets.“Whoa,” I said as I took in the imposing sign above the entrance. The words ‘Hat Emporium’ stood tall and proud before a wooden backdrop.“This is the place for hats and such,” Roasaline said.We were announced by the jingle of a bell above the door, loud chimes calling out across the open floor of the hat shop, telling the world that we had arrived. Not that the people within paid us all that much attention. There were nice hats to look at and try on, after all.“So many,” I said as I took in all the pretty hats.Skipping over to a display of bowler hats, I picked one off the rack and tried to try it on.Unfortunately, I ran into a pair of big problems; big bunny-eared shaped problems.I heard Amaryllis snort from behind me a moment before she carefully removed the bowler hat from my hands and placed it atop her own head. “I think we’re going to need to ask someone that works here for some assistance,” she said.“Do you think they make hats for buns here?” I asked.“Certainly. Let’s leave my sister and Awen to tease each other and find some help, shall we?”A glance over my shoulder showed a grinning Rosaline placing a bonnet atop Awen’s head. The little flowers on it matched her blonde hair and rosy cheeks.Amaryllis pulled me along to the front of the store where a young harpy girl was standing behind a counter with the happy smile all retail workers wore when before a client. “Hello. May I assist you?” she asked while glancing up at my head. “Are you looking for the exotic heads section?”“Exotic heads?” I asked.She nodded, then gestured towards a far corner. “For our clients with... unique cranial features. You can also have any normal headwear modified for a small custom tailoring fee.”“That sounds nice,” I said. “We’ll go check that out!”Of all the things I expected from growing a pair of cute bunny ears atop my head, having to pay a premium for a nice hat to compliment them was not one of them. The hats in the corner for exotic heads were a bit older looking, some of them clearly made for heads that were much bigger or shaped way different than what I’d come to expect.Amaryllis found a pair of bonnets that had holes in them for bun ears, but they were too small to fit my head.I sighed. “This is annoying,” I said as I pulled a straw hat from off a nearby mannequin. “I guess I’ll just need to buy a normal hat and pay for someone to tailor a pair of holes into it. Saying so, I poked my fingers where I expected the holes would need to be.I didn’t expect my fingers to break through the straw.“...Oops.”Ding! For repeating a Special Action a sufficient number of times you have unlocked the class skill: Mad Millinery!
* * *
