Ten Years a Reunion

Westeron looked every bit the way Lavender remembered.

Wooden houses several stories high towered and hung over the cobblestone streets. Those streets were packed with wagons drawn by horses and tradesmen going about their day. She remembered looking out the window of a horse-drawn carriage with her mother and father, and half a dozen of her siblings.

The finer details of politics were lost on a ten-year old. But even she knew her father was Emperor of the Dezerin Empire. His word was law and his will was done.

Why a man of such power would send his fourth-oldest child to wait in a castle for her true love was the first of a thousand questions she had for him.

Lavender got more than a few bemused and dismayed looks as she wandered through the streets. She was not ashamed to walk through the city in bare feet and in her bloomers; she’d done it many times before in the dragon’s keep. But she’d never had to do it in front of anyone else before.

The novelty of it all was helping overpower her reading too much into those looks.

Eventually however, someone did have something to say about it. A man in a blue uniform with golden lining with a matching hat stepped in front of her and held up his palm to command her to stop.

“Miss, are you an ‘in-va-lid’?” His mustache twitched as he struggled with each syllable of a word he’d clearly been told about, but struggled to understand.

Lavender blinked. “N-no?”

“Then why is you walkin’ ‘round the streets in your undies like you is an in-va-lid?” He produced a small stick and pointed it at her bloomers. “By order of the Westeron Day Guard, unless you’re advertising for the Seamstresses’ Guild, there’s a ban on such con-duct! Show me a license, miss!”

This was new for Lavender. She wasn’t used to being told what to do by other people. And all she could manage was the simplest of questions. “Why?”

“By the gods, you is an in-val-id if you askin’ me that.” The guard grumbled. “Look, I’m owin’ a favor to the Seamstresses’ Guild on ‘ccount of me bein’ runnin’ a tab. How’s about you agree to go straight to one of the seamstresses, I don’t arrest you for indecency, and all’s square, eh?”

“Eh?” squeaked Lavender.

“Eh!” barked the guard. “Now we square, or do I has to raise a fuss with the guild?”

The anxiety was starting to kick back in for Lavender and she frantically shook her head. “N-No! I… I…” Her head was whipping around enough that the guard was concerned her head might snap of her neck. “W-Which way is the seamstress?”

-----

Thankfully, the guard was kind enough to point her in the right direction to one of these seamstresses. It seemed to be a popular place. Men and the occasional woman were walking out of the place looking very satisfied and a bit winded.

The shop she walked into was filled with clothes for either gender and all sorts of styles that were frankly blowing her mind, with a wide staircase leading upstairs nestled between different outfits. The fashion selection for most of her life had been limited to ‘whatever the dragon stole from caravans’.

In a corner near those stairs was a tired looking woman about Lavender’s age lining up fabrics in a machine she’d never seen before. The woman had green hair and rings under her eyes, a pair of arms covered in blue robes slowly moving the fabric into the machine. It whirred to life and spat out a puff of steam before it began sewing the two sheets together.

What was also blowing Lavender’s mind was a second woman standing behind the counter. What kind of store had a work outfit that showed so much cleavage? The brunette woman was wearing what Lavender would describe as a leather bustier, with the outer edges of a red bra sticking out from under it.

The woman smiled with lips covered in lipstick matching the color of that bra. “Hey there, sweetie. What’re you good for today?”

Lavender was trying not to stare at the bra or the cleavage. Instead, she was staring into the woman’s eyes like her life depended on it. But it was coming at the cost of her being able to say anything intelligible. “Ineedclothes.”

“Hm?” The woman leaned in. Lavender assumed the woman didn’t know she was giving her a better view of the canyon in her chest. “What was that, dear?”

“I-I-I-I n-n-need c-c-c-clothes,” Lavender stuttered.

The woman looked over the counter. “Oh. Sorry, I thought you’d been doing guild work. You’ve got coin?”

Lavender pulled out a pouch she’d taken from the bandits in the forest, filled with whatever coin they’d had on them at the time. “What’ll this get me?”

“Let’s see here…” The coins in the pouch were poured out onto the counter. With an experienced eye, the woman at the counter quickly counted up the coins of various different metals. “Good for a high quality outfit or two. That or half a day’s work~”

Whatever implication was being given, it went over Lavender’s head. “Clothes, please.”

There’s a look of disappointment on the woman’s face before she stood up straight and clapped her hands together. “Hazel!”

The tired-looking woman manning the machine replied without looking up. “Yes?”

“Finish up with that smock and then get some paper. We’ve got to take some measurements.”

----

The woman across the counter began measuring Lavender with a measuring tape, while the one who had been manning the machine recorded the measurements on paper.

Chest, waist, hips, all parts of her body were carefully measured. Lavender heard her say things but it went in one ear and out the other. She hadn’t been this close to another human being in ten years, not counting those men whose asses she’d kicked in the forest.

Whatever perfume she was wearing was overpowering to boot! Gods, after the first minute she’d have taken the brimstone of the dragon’s keep!

She nearly screamed when the woman waved a hand in front of her face and called her out on spacing out. “What’s my name?”

“Your… name?” Lavender sputtered out.

“My name. I’ve been talking to you for the past ten minutes.” She raised an eyebrow. “What’s my name?”

Lavender wanted to die. She hadn’t learned anyone’s name in years. “It’s… uh… Sar –”

“No.”

“Tan –”

“No.”

“…El –”

“It’s Yanice.”

Lavender was already crying. “Aaaaaagh! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Her reaction caught Yanice off-guard. Yanice threw up her hands and urged Lavender to calm down. “Easy. Easy.”

“I just wanted to have some clothes to wear when I finally meet my family again!” Lavender sniffed. “I haven’t been in Westeron in ten years and I… I…” It was unclear what Lavender was saying because her speech had devolved into gibberish.

Hazel slowly looked up from her scribbled notes. Her eyes bugged out and she turned to Yanice. “I’ll help her with the rest. Can I take one of the empty rooms upstairs?”

----

Hazel led Lavender up the stairs and into a room off to the side.

It was quite bare apart from a rather large bed and a closet that had a lock on it. This one did have a window overlooking the street below but the curtains were drawn closed.

Lavender turned to see Hazel pull a plain wand out of her robe’s sleeves and tapped the door with its end. The walls, the floors, the ceiling, all briefly shimmered with a technicolor wave.

That’s a deception-type spell, Lavender realized. She just cast a spell to prevent anyone outside from hearing what we’re saying.

Things started adding up quickly. A seamstress who knew magic? That was strange. Come to think of it, weren’t all of her siblings named after –

Hazel broke a weary little smile. “I was wondering if I’d ever see you again, little sister~”