“I don’t hold with tippets,” the tailor said loudly, squinting up at her.
There were many things with which Master Tiffen did not hold.
He was not at all what Ophele had expected of a tailor. Seated in his shop, which was still so new that everything smelled of plaster and sawdust, he moved with a strange, rolling gait from his design table to the high racks of cloth stored in the back, arguing with Lady Verr over brocade versus velvet. Hisgray hair sprang up in vigorous tufts everywhere but on the top of his head, and every time Lady Verr built up a really good head of steam, he developed a twitch in his left eye.
“—wider skirts, much wider,” Lady Verr was saying. “I have heard they are still wearing fur this winter in Segoile, and you need wider skirts to bear the weight of fur—”
“You’re going to weigh the lady down like an anchor with that much fabric.” The tailor jabbed a finger in Ophele’s direction. “And fur on top of it? Do you mean to have her guards ferry her about and stow her wherever she’s needed for the day?”
“Please mind your tongue, sir,” said Leonin evenly, while Davi cast his eyes up at the ceiling. There was a dangerous quivering in his sides.
“No, you needn’t pleat the skirt, that would be far too heavy,” Lady Verr replied with infinite patience. “The fabric will be tight to the waist and then widen, almost a bell shape. It would complement the sleeves.”
“You’re talking about a farthingale,” Master Tiffen accused. He crossed his arms, left eye a-twitch. “I don’t hold with farthingales.”
“It is not for you toholdwith anything,” Lady Verr retorted. “We are employing your skills, not asking your opinion, Master Tiffen.”
“Beg your pardon, my lady, but His Grace invited me here to makesensibleclothes,” Master Tiffen shot back.“No nonsense,he told me.Don’t copy the Empire, make something of our own,he said. And the lady will need to be able to do more than putter up and down the hallway!”
As a spectator, all of this was high entertainment. Ophele hadn’t understood more than half of what they were saying; she didn’t know a farthingale from a farthing andhouppelandemade her think of the huge sheer netting bags Bhumi womenwore to keep out the midges. It was fun to say, though. Houppelande.
"My lady?” Lady Verr prompted, and Ophele started. The two hostile powers were now staring at her.
“Well…I do like the silver fur with the blue brocade,” she offered. She felt fairly safe in this opinion, but was prepared to capitulate at once if she met the least resistance.
“About thefashion,my lady,” said Master Tiffen, as if it were a dirty word.
“Oh. I do need to get used to walking with a train and skirts and heels,” she admitted. “I must be accustomed to them, when I go to the capital.”
Lady Verr gave the tailor anI told you solook.
“But His Grace did say that we should all wear what we like.” He had also sternly instructed Ophele to order enough gowns to fill her closet, or he would come down to the tailor’s shop himself, and she would not like it if that happened. “But,” she said in sudden inspiration, “Ought we not make both? Segoile clothes and the new style for the Andelin? What’s a farthingale?”
“It is an underframe to support a wide skirt—” began Lady Verr, at the same time that Master Tiffen said,
“It’s a bunch of reeds stuck up under your dress. If Lady Verr insists, I saw a likely bit of bog on the way here.”
That did not sound comfortable.
“I want something…simpler, first,” she admitted. “Andwarm,it has been so cold. Might we not begin with a Segoile dress and…simplify it?”
She indicated the sketch they had already begun, much altered and hotly disputed.
“Agreed,” Master Tiffen said, sitting back at his worktable.
“You are dressing the daughter of theEmperor,”Lady Verr admonished. “Even if you insist on such plain lines, there ought to be embroidery, beads, silk, jewels—”
“I’ve all the silk and linen you want, embroider away,” said Master Tiffen, sketching with a bit of charcoal.
Lady Verr’s lip curled.
“I do want it to be…beautiful, too,” Ophele said, oppressed by Master Tiffen’s squinty left eye. “Not every dress must be jeweled, but I do want everyone to be…pleased. When they see their duchess, I mean.”
And she wanted very much to be beautiful in Remin’s eyes, but she wasn’t about to say that.
“We can do better than stripping Segoile fashion for parts.” Master Tiffen looked thoughtful. “Happens I’ve seen those double sleeves in Ispichov. Outers for warmth, and then they pin them back to work. Warm as toast, too.”
“You’ve been to Ispichov?” Ophele asked, curiosity instantly winning over shyness.
