“And crochet. It was the best thing in my life for a while.” I told Lyriel about crochet, about how I’d picked it up from a woman at a thrift store in Wichita who was selling handmade scarves and took pity on the skinny blond kid who kept touching the yarn.
“And you also made those tiny trousers?” Lyriel stared at my legs.
“I make all my shorts. No one in Qoksmere…” A tiny giggle slipped out at the name; I cleared my throat and tried tolook serious. “Sorry, that name means a thing in my language. Anyway, does no one at all wear shorts? I noticed an ogre in a loincloth thing, and I think that was the closest I’ve seen.”
“You’re the first that I’m aware of,” she said cheerfully.
I bit my bottom lip. “Do you think my shorts are offending people? Like, I want to be me, but I don’t want the Queen to execute me.”
She waved me off. “We understand that every species has their cultural traditions.”
“Twink isn’t actually a species, though…”
“So? It’s your culture, right? And who knows, other people might enjoy the shorts!”
“I’m sure they will! Shorts are the single most important piece of fashion, in my opinion. So versatile! You can dress them up, or dress them down. They work for any occasion.”
She eyed the shorts, looking unconvinced.
“Whatever. A land with no shorts is a travesty. I’m adding it to my list of things to fix about this place.”
“Well, I may not understand your need to have your entire thigh bare—”
“Because they need to breathe!”
“But either way, they’re wonderfully made,” she said. “And I look forward to having your fresh take on the things we create here. Would you like to learn more about our process?”
“Oh yes! Do you weave magic into all the stitches?”
She shook her head. “Only when necessary. We mustn’t be callous with our magic, lest our well run dry.”
“Your well can run dry?” I hadn’t thought of that when Aeldryc had described it.
She touched her chest. “Yes, it’s a finite resource. Use too much, too fast…” She made a little puffing gesture with her fingers. “It’s gone.”
“And then you can’t do magic?”
“And then you die,” she said simply.
I froze, a sudden, horrifying image of my custom-made sex swing turning Aeldryc into a pile of dust. “You die? But Aeldryc uses his all the time!”
Lyriel smiled. “Your Aeldryc has a very deep well. He could live for centuries more. But battle, or great workings of iron... they take their toll.”
“So, a small amount of bending metal for... recreational purposes... would be fine, right?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
“That,” she said, brushing off her skirts, “you’d have to ask him. I save mine for emergencies. I’m horrifyingly bad at contoured pleats if I don’t use a little spell to hold the shape. Don’t tell my staff.”
“Your secret is safe with me.” I mimed locking my lips and throwing away the key.
She grinned at me. “The moment Aeldryc told me about you, I knew we’d be friends. And the way he dotes on you!”
“If your goal is to become my best friend, flattering me about that man’s affections for me is an excellent first start.”
“’Tis not flattery, ’tis the truth. Now tell me, what is your favorite fabric art?”
“I love to sew but my absolute favorite is crochet.” When she tilted her head in question, I clarified. “It’s a yarn craft. Similar to knitting?”
“Ah, then I have just the thing!” Digging through a basket, she handed me three skeins of soft yarn in gorgeous colors; a soft pink, a deep blue, a bold red. It was spun from the softest wool I’d ever touched, with a natural, handmade texture that would have cost a fortune back in San Jose.
