Page 112 of Unrivaled
“Their fault for getting close enough to smell them,” Isolde offered, from the window.
“Ah, you surround yourself with wisdom, my lady, and it speaks well of you.”Matilda stepped back, admiring me.“That’ll do it, my beautiful little stabber.Come.”She was grinning so widely it was a wonder her face didn’t split.“By the Wife, it’sgorgeous.”
Ivy came around from behind me.I dropped my hands, but then was unsure where to put them.
Matilda motioned with one hand, and I turned.
“The lace at the waist needs to be tidied up,” Ivy said, but there was excitement in her voice.“Are you happy with it?”she asked me, her hands knotting up in front of her.
I knew I had to act happy.I’d prepared a happy expression, one of gratitude and excitement, and was arranging it on my features as I lifted my gaze to the looking glass.
There was no way to see all of me, not here.But the part of me I could see was mostly bare.There was something painfully intimate about having clothing on, and yet showing so much.The curves of my biceps, the valley where muscle curved out from the bones and sinews of my arm full of delicate shadows, the soft undersides totally vulnerable.Fabric fell over my breasts.Faint ridges in the muscles below the protective cage of my ribs made me uncomfortable.I turned, seeing the strength of my own spine.That, at least, looked similar to what Ivy had sketched.
“What they’ll save on fabric they can spend on tailoring,” Isolde offered.“Is that the marketing plan for this one?”
“It needs a warbelt,” I said, without thinking.Before I could snatch back the words, Matilda let out a hoot of laughter.“It’s gorgeous,” I said.“I don’t think I can wear it anywhere.”Except right here.
“Itoldher to include a belt,” Matilda told me, grinning.“A good thick one.Here.Get me,” she waved a hand at a basket.“Some ribbon or something.”Matilda put her hands on my shoulders, angling me.“The neck could be shortened,” she told Ivy.“We could move it all up a tiny bit.”Pins appeared, seemingly from nowhere.She set to work on the green lace collar.When Ivy returned with a wide copper ribbon, Matilda tossed it over her shoulder in a businesslike fashion.
“One option for menstruation garments is properly fitting underpants that cradle the buttocks and thighs.They would absorb, but not let moisture out,” Amber told me, as Ivy silently directed me to lift my arms again.“The issue is how frequently they can be washed, as I can increase absorbency to contain a cycle’s flow, but, as you can imagine, that isn’t good to hold the blood against our bodies for so long.”
I nodded, folding my hands atop my head.“Especially in the heat.”I couldn’t imagine the smell of it this time of year.
“Even in the winter.We make our own warmth.There’s a version of that garment already in circulation, but it’s considered a single-use item and created specifically for formal occasions.It’s also tightly controlled.”
“Don’t want the women being comfortable, do we?”Matilda muttered.The ribbon in her hands was pulled snug around my belly.“There.”She stepped back.“Like that.Except dark.Black leather.A lot of detailing.”She made a noise of approval.“And your breasts are more likely to remainbehindthe fabric.”
“That’s probably an improvement,” I offered, tentatively, turning to see the way they’d adjusted it made the ribbon sit a little like a bodice.When I turned, it hid the vee in my lower back.I was still exposed, but the tightness felt reassuring.“Yes.”
“The skirts will lose some of the fluidity,” Ivy warned me, tentatively.“You…did mention kraken.I was thinking sea, long, flowing skirts… this way, they’re not even touching the ground.”
“Perfect.”I didn’t want to think of the amount of skirts I’d sewn back together after catching a layer of fabric beneath my boot.“I love it.I need a belt,” I said to the room at large.
“Matching vambraces would be delightful,” Amber said.“And on-theme for yourmen’s, but make it attractivetheme.”
Ivy’s cheeks went red.“That wasn’t the theme.”
“Uh-huh.”Amber popped some more food in her mouth.“Now your pet creation has been approved,Iwant to see the skirtaloons.”At my look, she said, “That’s just my name for them, don’t worry.”
I put my hands back on my head.Removing the work in progress didn’t take long.Ivy tossed the fabric to Amber, who caught it one handed with a reproachful scowl toward Ivy.
“So you’ve options other than the absorbent pants?”I asked Amber.
She made a noise of agreement.“Insertable options.An absorbent, single-use item wouldn’t be too hard to create, but I need resources to test it thoroughly.Obviously, that’s a time issue as well.”
“Tell her what your last patron told you,” Ivy suggested, then waved Matilda away from the piles of garments on the bed.
I was never getting rid of them before my captain arrived.
I considered sending Isolde to Elnyta with the promise of a visit this evening, but I also didn’t want to assume anything.I’d assumed far too much with Chay.I didn’t want to make the same mistake here.Anyway, captains were busy people.
Another part of me was considering the benefits of insertable, absorbent menstrual products.The idea of removing such an item worried me.There was also the issue of who would be purchasing them, because whilst in many households women managed day-to-day tasks, I was an exception in managing my own purchases.Still, many women were given allowances.It would depend heavily on how the items were understood by the men.We wouldn’t want anything impinging on ourpurity,would we?
“The Wife stands for clean and good and wholesome,” I offered Amber.“You’ll need to lean on that image when you’ve got the single-use, insertable items ready for production.”
She blinked.
“This is why she wants a patron,” Matilda told me.“Step.”I stepped into the pool of fabric on the ground.
