Page 59 of Company of Thieves
“I won’t just threaten, my friend,” Alan said, but he knew that he had nothing to worry about on that front. Zand and Safie had waited so long for each other, praying that the imperator would one day consent to their marriage, something that he realized now would never have happened. “Let us go and see what finery we can dig out. Hallie won’t let me hear the end of it if I dared turn up in this Western suit.”
The crew fell in behind them, making ribald jokes, and in general chaffing the two bridegrooms.
For the first time in a very long time, Alan felt like life lay before him as a rich feast, one that held everything he could ever desire.
It just remained for him to reach out and take it.
THIRTEEN
“This is ridiculous. I can’t fit into any of that, even if I wanted to. I refuse to wear a corset!”
Octavia frowned at me. “I understand that you do not wish to wear the clothing traditional to ladies in your normal day-to-day life, and I have always been supportive of your desire to march to a different drummer, so to speak. But, Hallie, this is your wedding.”
“Pfft,” I said, waving away that subject. “I did the big wedding once. It was meaningless. I’d be happy if we just had a registry-office wedding.”
“Registry office?” Safie, who was roughly the same size as Octavia, cooed when she pulled out a black-and-white striped skirt and bodice. She was a pretty woman, with big brown eyes, and short-cropped curly hair. I was a bit surprised to see the latter, since most women in this world had long hair, but it suited her elfin looks. “Are you sure you won’t mind me borrowing your gown? Unlike Hallie, I have clothing on theFalcon, all uniforms, of course, and not anything nearly as elegant as this. Most of my clothing is at Alan’s house.”
“By all means, help yourself.” Octavia returned to considering me. “I see your point of not fitting into the garments, Hallie, but I couldn’t be happy knowing you were wed to a dear friend wearing something so ... er ...”
I looked down at myself. My once pretty blue-and-green tunic and pants were now showing the strain of solid wear for the last week. “Maybe Alan brought my things—oh.”
Octavia opened her cabin door at a knock, which turned out to be the two wooden trunks I’d inherited from Alan’s sister Leila.
“Talk about timely,” I said, diving into the first trunk. Safie and Octavia clustered around me, murmuring approval when I showed them the outfits I’d had created in Tozeur. “The question is which to wear.”
“I like the red one,” Octavia said. She fingered the scarlet material heavily embroidered in gold. “It must look lovely with your hair.”
“I’m quite envious of the blue,” Safie said, holding it up in front of her.
“You’re more than welcome to wear that if you would prefer,” I said, diving back into the chest to pull out the gold tunic and leggings, and leather armor. I ran my fingers across the engraving on the breastplate, my mind filled with memories of Alan teaching me how to fight.
“I wish I could, but you are much taller than me,” she said, reluctantly putting the tunic back. “But I am going to have something similar made for me, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” I chewed my lower lip for a moment, wondering if I dared do what I wanted to do.
Octavia and Safie chatted while the latter got out of her Company of Thieves wool coat and skirt, and into Octavia’s pretty dress.
