“Her eyes already shine,” one of the girls whispered. “She’s a freak even among her own kind. We shouldn’t draw more attention to her.”
I yanked the drape aside, causing several women nearby to shriek and skitter away. I stalked over to the seamstresses huddled by the counter. The two who had been mocking me were about my age, but shorter and scrawnier. One’s cheekbones were so defined, they could cut through glass. Their perfect blond hair was curled into delicate ringlets. They could have been twins with their matching dresses, hairstyles, and blue eyes. I couldn’t understand my sudden hatred for them, but it surged within me. It was an effort not to tear those curls out of their heads. They cowered as I approached.
I addressed Thora. “Since I’m obviously not welcome here, I’ll take my business elsewhere.”
She shook her head and held out her hands. “Please, forgive my daughters. They’re simply jealous of your ability. You see, they have no talent.”
Both girls let out cries of outrage. “Mother!”
Thora ignored them. “I’m sorry they’ve ruined your day, but please don’t leave. You can’t walk around the city in nothing but your undergarments. Look!” She lifted a roll of purple fabric with small white flowers. “Wouldn’t this be lovely against your clear skin?”
I ran a hand over the material, and the action tugged at a memory. I was prancing through the halls of my home in Kenshore in my new dress, feeling like the most beautiful girl in the world. I paraded in front of my father, fanning myself with one of Sylvi’s fans. “Mother bought me this dress today. Don’t I look beautiful?”
The memory of the fondness in his eyes and his booming laugh made my eyes grow misty.
“Asta; divine beauty. We chose the perfect name.”
I smiled despite the pain of remembering. “It’s glorious. Can I buy it all?”
Thora laughed. Her daughters rolled their eyes and shared a look as if to say, “How dense is she?”
“This entire roll will make you several dresses, my dear. I imagine you want some variety in your wardrobe. How about you pick a pattern for this cloth while I look for another kind of fabric? Era, the book.”
The shorter of the two girls bent down behind the counter, then produced a large tome, apparently containing every kind of dress pattern imaginable. I flipped through the pages in awe.
“These are her measurements, Ragna,” Thora said, handing a slip of paper to the other daughter. “Why don’t you look for a dress in the back that will fit Miss…?” She looked at me expectantly.
“Isa,” I said.
She smiled. “Nice to meet you, Miss Isa.”
Ragna snatched the piece of paper from her mother before stomping away.
“I know it’s difficult to think of summer when it’s so chilly out, but be sure to browse through the summer dress section,” Thora said. “And could you be so kind as to return to the dressing room? Some of our customers are looking uncomfortable at the sight of so much skin.”
I looked around, having forgotten I was only dressed in my undergarments. Many ladies were averting their eyes while some of the younger girls openly gawked. I wasn’t embarrassed. Never in a million years could they earn a body like mine. But I took the tome with me to the dressing room out of respect for Thora.
Two hours later, I wore a forest-green dress with a sweetheart neckline and bow on the shoulder. The ruffles along the bottom of the skirt swooped upward and to the side to expose the white petticoats underneath before draping back down ever so gracefully to the ground. Despite Thora’s clucking, I had declined the dress with longer sleeves and bought a white shawl instead. It was chilly, yes, but my strange body could handle it.
I had been given a white lace bonnet for free—to protect my ears from the cold, Thora had said, but I suspected it was also to hide my unfashionable hair. The seamstresses wanted to put me in a corset, but after a year without one I had grown accustomed to being able to take a deep breath. So I had politely declined and opted for a new chemise instead. I still wore my grungy boots but, thankfully, the dress was long enough to cover them. I whistled as loudly as I could and admired my reflection in the store window while I waited for my ride.
It was like looking into the past. For a moment, I could see the old Asta galloping through the fields with Sylvi and Irma close behind, leather riding gloves gripping the reins, dress fabric flapping in the wind. The Asta who attended the town balls in her clean, elegant, white evening gowns and wore her hair in fancy braided up-dos. The Asta who wore her school skirts and blouses proudly. But then I looked into my eyes and remembered the countless hours practicing lethal strikes on dummies. Those glowing copper orbs flashed with a fierceness that the old Asta had never been able to accomplish. Stubbornness, I could pull off easily. But I had never been this… wild and indestructible. It was obvious I wasn’t who I once was. I had mixed feelings about that.
My chauffeur/guard stopped by the sidewalk and helped me climb into the carriage. “Where to next? Or is your coin purse too light to make any more purchases?”
“Next to the men’s clothing store,” I said. “I have to buy clothes for lounging and sneaking.”
Samir seemed surprised but didn’t comment. “As you wish.”
Three pairs of trousers, three white shirts, two coats, a cloak, a pair of sneaking boots, riding boots, and dancing shoes, four new pairs of undergarments and stockings, and a new haircut later, I was exhausted. So was my escort apparently because Samir grumbled when I mentioned the herb store.
“We have the best doctors and medicine men in Holger living on the royal hill,” he said. “There’s no need to buy your own herbs.”
“This store we’re going to belongs to a friend of mine,” I said. “I promised I would visit as soon as I graduated, and I intend to keep my word.”
“Dusk is nearly upon us,” Samir said, as if I couldn’t see the failing light and long shadows all around us.
“Then it’ll be a quick visit.”
He rolled his eyes but finally became silent.
Viggo told me several months back that Bryn’s mother’s store had been called Olga’s Remedies, and that there was a sign hanging over the door with two pale hands and a plant growing between the touching palms. I knew the name of the cross streets and the names of the stores on either side. And still we couldn’t find it. We drove up and down the neighborhood four times before I spotted Viggo’s glowing eyes in an alley between a mystic’s store and a flower shop.
“Stop here,” I said, gesturing to the other side of the road.
My chauffeur pointed at the sun. “You have one hour, Lady Isa. Then we must go to the hill.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you for your patience.” I leapt from the stagecoach, adjusted my bonnet, and proceeded to cross the street as nonchalantly as possible. I entered the mystic’s store and pretended to browse until I was sure Samir was distracted. Then I slipped out of the store and dashed into the alleyway. “Viggo?” I whispered as loudly as I dared.
Even in the dying sunlight, I could see the brick wall at the end. The alley only contained several crates and two garbage cans. There was no place for Viggo to hide. Where could he have gone? I was considering leaving the alley and continuing to search the neighborhood when the grinding of stone caught my attention. I spun around to see a hidden door in the wall at the end of the alleyway. It slowly slid to the side to reveal my friend.
Chapter Twelve
I let out a sigh of relief, gathered my long skirts, and hurried over.