Page 98 of Unrivaled
They exchanged a look.“What would beappropriate?” Ivy asked.
My etiquette teacher’s wizened, bitter face popped into my mind, clashing with Elnyta’s wicked grin as I settled on their knee.
“I’m fine for day to day.I’d be happy to see a sketch or plan for formal wear for the faire, though.”
They looked at each other.Matilda’s cheeks were pink.Her eyes dropped down to her cup.
“We heard you were running La’Angi differently,” Ivy said.“But it’s more than that.Or it feels like it.”
“Your father’s knight, yesterday.”Matilda paused, glancing over at Sandra.
“He was terrifying,” Sandra offered, with a shudder.“Have the tales of the Blackguard reached…where are you from?”she asked Matilda.
Sullivan’s hands on my hips.The child crumpling in the bailey.Raider’s.Ban.Men.I took a mouthful of tea.
“I thought it was an exaggeration until I saw him,” Matilda offered, tentatively.
Sullivan was the least of them.“The Blackguard are highly specialized,” I said carefully.“It means their skillset isn’t always appropriate for day-to-day life, but where they’re needed, they shine.”
“Of course,” Ivy said.“I can’t speak for everyone, but I was impressed at how you managed the situation yesterday.”
I tried to recall what part of his visit would have counted as asituation.When Chay drew his sword?When the runner announced Daniel’s death?The way I hadn’t gagged on Sullivan’s reek?My restraint in not picking the sealing wax out from under my nail and flicking it as far from me as I could?
“I have some ideas.Some designs.They’re bold,” Matilda said, color in her cheeks.“You seem like you might like that?”
The tentatively offered comment went straight to my heart.
Never could I recall anyone telling me I wasbold.Certainly not with color in their cheeks and what looked suspiciously like hero worship in their eyes.
“I noticed your dresses don’t have the dropped shoulders that are most popular for noblewomen who aren’t creating the two-triangles silhouette.”Ivy flipped open the bound collection of designs before her, showing a dress with sleeves that were as exaggerated as the skirt at the bottom.I hated to think how tight laced the wearer’s corset would need to be.“I’m assuming you prefer comfort to style.”
“I do.”
“How would you feel about modifying men’s style?”Ivy asked, then blew on her tea.
I froze.Should I be scandalized?Excited?Concerned about whether it would suit me?
“If I look like someone you can’t ignore, then I feel fine,” I told them both, hoping that was an acceptable response.“I need to be able to ride or dance in it.”
They might be scandalized to know I habitually wore men’s garb.
Ivy took a stack of charcoal sketches and slid one over to me.It was a riding jacket similar in style to the ones from the west—specifically, from Raider’s Ban cavalry dress uniforms.Big collar, high shoulders, double-breasted.This one had been sketched to come up over hips and hang lower in a vee at the front.The skirts beneath it were shockingly simple, lacking bulk or detailing.She went to move the design, but I my hand down to stop her.
That lookedcomfortable.
Mayhap they wouldn’t be scandalized, after all.
“I love it.”Then I imaginedmyselfin that sort of cut and sighed.“Someone with more exaggerated curves would wear it better.”
“Would they?”Matilda asked me.
“We’ve actually got some twill that would be excellent to bring into vogue,” Sandra murmured quietly to me.“It’s been sitting for some time.”
I disguised my surprise and kept my eyes on Ivy as she showed another sketch.I’d forgotten the twill.It wasn’t a fabric we used much, but it had been claimed from one of the deceased’s estates.There wasn’t enough of any one color to use it for uniforms, and dying had been more effort than it was worth.It was an elegant solution.
Ivy was smiling at us.She moved the sketch to the side to slide another in front of me.This one was effectively a long overtunic, but with none of the bulk or underlayers.It would be socomfortable.
I wanted to cry.
