AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You can imagine how rare such silk has become,” Foxglove says, a conspiratorial lilt to his tone. “With only one silk dragon producing such thread, it’s an extreme luxury. Lucky is the person who can secure such a contract, am I right?”
I quirk a brow. “Let me guess.Youare that lucky person?”
“Indeed, I am.”
My shoulders slump. “Please don’t tell me you’re using dragon silk lace for doilies.”
He lets out an affronted gasp, stuttering before he answers. “N-no. Of course not. I’ve learned my lesson about doilies, Amelie. I admit you and your sister were right about me going perhaps a tiny bit overboard with them.”
I chuckle. That’s the first time in over twenty years I’ve gotten him to admit to such a thing. After the war, Foxglove left his occupation as a royal ambassador to start a career in interior design. While his eye for fae design has always been phenomenal, he’s had much to learn when it comes to designing interiors meant for humans. His first attempt was a parlor for my sister, the Unseelie Queen of the Fire Court. The room was so amusingly hideous, she had it replicated when she and her husband relocated to their current palace.
He gives a derisive snort. “I’ll have you know, I’m making curtains with the lace, not doilies. Besides, I wouldn’t poke fun if I were you. Not if you want me to share the benefits of such a prestigious contract.”
I press the lace to my heart. “Do you mean it?”
“Of course I do,” he says with a lighthearted roll of his eyes. “It would only make sense, considering we practically work together.”
We don’t so much work together as share a two-story design studio in the nearby city of Hawthorn. There we partner with our design teams to bring our respective creations to life.
“Although,” Foxglove says under his breath, “one wouldn’t know you had a separate workspace if they saw your living room.”
I ignore his gibe and bounce on the balls of my feet. “Can I have this piece, then?”
“That’s why I brought it.” He gives a flippant wave of his hand, but I can tell he’s pleased by my excitement.
With a squeal, I weave between my cluttered tables to the dress form standing in the shade between two windows. Upon it hangs an in-progress ballgown in a dusty rose brocade. The skirt falls in billowing layers while the back features a bustle and flowing train. The bodice is fitted with a ruffled off-the-shoulder neckline trimmed with lace. I’ve been staring at the gown for days, not fully satisfied with any of the lace I’ve attempted to use thus far. But this delicate fabric in my hand will be perfect.
With my tongue perched at the corner of my mouth, I get to work removing the pins securing the current lace trim to the dress. Then I replace it with the dragon silk lace, carefully pinning the fabric in place where I’ll eventually sew it. It’s just enough to fully finish the neckline, leaving me only a spare scrap to fold into a lace floret to adorn the center of the décolletage.
Finished, I step back to admire my work. “It’s perfect.” I bat my lashes at Foxglove in hopeful pleading. “Please tell me you have more to spare. I must trim the skirt with this too.”
“I’ll give you ten yards for now,” he says, “but it’s at the studio.”
I reach for his hand and give it a squeeze. “Foxglove, you’re a hero.”
“Stop, you’ll make me blush.”
I turn back to the dress, but as I assess the gown once more, my bright mood dims. This ballgown was meant to grace the stage at Bartleby’s next fashion showcase. Bartleby’s is a department store famous for ready-to-wear apparel. It’s a trend that began in the country of Bretton and made its way here about a decade ago. Other department stores have followed suit, but Bartleby’s remains the premier establishment, specializing in high fashion at a reasonable price, without the long wait custom clothing requires. Furthermore, they cater to human clientele and take pride in showcasing ensembles made with human sensibilities in mind. Unlike popular fae fashions, which discarded corsets, undergarments, and weighty fabrics ages ago, human fashion continues to favor cinched waistlines, gravity-defying bosoms, and time-honored fabrics and silhouettes.
I’ve been learning the trade of dressmaking and design for over twenty years, but my career didn’t take off until about five years ago. Ever since, most of my clients have been fae. I only recently snagged human interest, and for the first time, my work caught the eye of Bartleby’s. I was invited to display my designs at the next four fashion showcases, the first having taken place last week. But my spring line never made it to the showcase stage. Because that was when Mr. Vance ruined everything.
Foxglove comes up beside me and wrings his hands. “Perhaps Evie can help.”
I purse my lips. “I don’t want my sister’s help.”
“But she would be happy to. You know that, right?”
I do, but I don’t admit it out loud. The truth is, Evie would be eager to get me out of this mess. That’s exactly why I can’t let her. I already owe enough of my success to her. Being the sister of the infamous human-fae queen who helped lead the fae to victory in the war has provided me with easy renown amongst my fae clients. But the career I’m building with the humans…that’smineand I want to keep it that way.
I nibble my lip. “I’d prefer Evie didn’t find out about this at all.”
Foxglove gives me another one of his grimace-grins.
The blood leaves my face. “She already knows?”
“Fehr told me.”
Fehr is Foxglove’s husband, a djinn who serves my sister as her ambassador, Captain of the Guard, and…well, he’s pretty much the head of everything at Maplehearth Palace. I’m not surprised Fehr told Foxglove, but I’m starting to suspect Foxglove had more than lace on his mind when he paid me a visit.
