Agent of the Dragon
Chapter 6

Rhysa’s ruminations were interrupted when Aryn opened the door and announced the gowns were ready for a final fitting. The three women were taken to be fitted in the order they were measured. As promised, the fittings took only a few minutes each.

Lady Kasteryn came out wearing her gown. It was a dark cerulean with hints of white highlights and looked like someone had wrapped Lady Kasteryn in a waterfall. Even when standing still, the lines of the dress caused the eye to see falling water. She’d brought her hair over one shoulder to drape on the dress, the red in her hair reminiscent of a setting sun over water. The sleeves were loose, but gathered at elbow and wrist. When she walked to her chair, Lady Kasteryn adopted the smooth glide she used to impress.

Elise approached the door with a certain amount of trepidation. Rhysa thought she understood. As a bodyguard by profession, Elise would feel uncomfortable in anything that might restrict movement; nevertheless, Elise went to do her final fitting.

Lady Kasteryn picked up the book she’d been reading earlier, and Rhysa waited patiently, letting her mind wander where it would. She found herself thinking of dragons: about their size, about their culture, about their friendships. She thought about Hathorina. What was she, that magic shone through her rather than merely covering her? No human she knew existed within the field of magic in such a manner. Magic overlaid humans like cloth; and like cloth, humans shaped the magic. She had no idea how someone like Hathorina would use magic.

Elise came out, and Rhysa smiled to herself. Elise would not be able to complain of restricted movement. The skirts of the gown were cut in front and in back, then re-sewn so they became large pant-legs. The draping was done so skillfully that unless you were looking for it, the pant-legs looked like the skirts of a gown--even when walking. The color of the gown was a rich pearl grey, and gave the impression of a cutting wind. With her blond hair in a bun and her sleeves bound, Elise should be able to move like one.

Rhysa stood, curious and eager to see what Aryn had created for her. When she closed the door shutting her in with the couturiere, Aryn removed the creation from a garment bag. Rhysa stared at the bold colors. The gown was an oddly vivid, dark orange. Here and there she saw streaks of a dark red.

“I doubt you’ve worn bold colors these past few years. You used to, though, when you were younger. You still have the coloring for it. Strip down and we’ll see how it fits.”

When Rhysa had stripped, taking care to set her daggers and sheathes aside, Hathorina held out the gown. As Rhysa reached for it, Hathorina stiffened and narrowed her eyes. Rhysa felt the currents of magic shift and gasped at the implication: Hathorina could change the nature of magic around her, could possibly even change reality in a limited way. No wonder Hathorina could create a formal gown in less than an hour.

“Child.” Hathorina sternly broke into Rhysa’s thoughts. “Please drop your Masking. It was too subtle for me to notice while I measured you in your tunic. I hope I won’t have to alter things.”

Rhysa laughed nervously, both for being caught, and for what the Masking hid. “I forgot I had it up. It was the first thing they taught me, and it’s been habit to keep it up ever since.” Rhysa removed the Masking covering her tattoos. She heard Hathorina gasp, and then her shuddering exhale.

“No wonder they taught you Masking first.” Awe touched Hathorina’s words. “You do it very well. I almost didn’t see it.”

Rhysa waited a couple seconds. “Can I try the gown on, now?”

Hathorina gave a small start. “Surely, child. I’m sorry. Here you go.”

Rhysa took the gown and turned around. In a mirror, she saw Hathorina studying the Kasteryn sigil on her back.

“Three tattoos.” Hathorina’s muttering voice still held wonder. “And so large. Especially the Kasteryn sigil.” Pain crept into the voice. “And arrow-crossed.”

Rhysa slipped the gown on; it covered all three tattoos. She wouldn’t have to maintain the Masking. Masking wasn’t difficult, and the energy it took was unnoticeable, but it might make the royal guards suspicious if they discovered she was actively Masking herself. Rhysa definitely did not want a suspicious royal guard on her case: they tended to be rough on those who aroused their suspicion.

Once the gown was in place, she looked into a full-length mirror--Hathorina was right, bold colors suited her. The red highlights complimented the dusky red-gold of molten glass of her eyes. She let her white hair hang down the side of her face. It was long enough to brush the top of her breasts; the ensemble evoked a river of molten rock with smoke rising above it.

“Incredible,” said Rhysa, turning to Hathorina. “This is amazing.”

“Thank you, child. Come here and let me check the fit.”

Rhysa readily walked to the couturiere. Hathorina tugged at the fabric here and there. Each time she did, Rhysa felt the streams of magic shift, and the fabric literally molded itself to Hathorina’s wishes. Finally, Hathorina stepped back. “Look in the mirror.”

Rhysa stepped to the mirror and examined herself. She immediately saw the changes. As with Lady Kasteryn’s gown, the lines of the gown convinced the eye the gown continually flowed, even when Rhysa stood still.

Rhysa surprised herself by giggling. “People will be afraid to touch me.”

Hathorina only smiled. Rhysa tore herself away from the mirror, and when she turned, Hathorina extended a pair of flat-soled shoes matching the character of the gown.

“There’s one more thing. Lady Kasteryn explained all three of you carry weapons. All three gowns have accessible places in them. Here, here, and here are yours.” At each location, Hathorina gently pulled at the fabric and a hole appeared. When she let go, the fabric fell back, and no matter how Rhysa twisted and flung the fabric around, she couldn’t see the holes. When Rhysa touched the places Hathorina had indicated, she felt the hole and her skin beneath.

“I’d wondered about weapons. Lady Kasteryn could probably do without, but Elise would be severely limited, and I’d be a little nervous, too. This is perfect.”

“The fabric of the gown is strong enough to handle a sword belt, and all three gowns were designed to incorporate a sword as an accessory.” Hathorina made a small gesture and a sword-belt with sheathed sword appeared around Rhysa’s waist, its weight nestling naturally into place.

Rhysa widened her eyes, then switched to Sight. Just an illusion. An excellent one to include the sensation of weight, but one created with the type of magic Rhysa knew, not the type Hathorina used to create the gowns. Rhysa went to stand in front of the mirror once more. To her surprise, the sword looked good. It belonged. Then it vanished, and Rhysa didn’t get the feeling an element had been removed from the appearance. Hathorina was clearly a genius. No wonder her services were in high demand.

Rhysa turned. “Thank you.” She tried to put everything she felt but couldn’t say in those two words.

Hathorina smiled. “You’re welcome.” She hesitated and her voice took on an odd quality, almost wistful. “Your House Kasteryn tattoo. I’d like to make something that incorporates it. It’s so unusually large for a House tattoo, and so perfectly formed--it must be displayed.”

Rhysa looked steadily at Hathorina. Finally, she nodded. “We can discuss it with Lady Kasteryn later.” She smiled. “I confess. It would be interesting to see what you come up with.” Rhysa put on the shoes and replaced the various daggers she’d removed for the fitting. She left the room, catching sight of herself in the mirror. The gown turned her normal stride into a flowing motion.

The other two women’s reactions were everything Rhysa had hoped for. Elise exclaimed as Rhysa came through the door, then echoed Rhysa’s earlier thought. “Do I dare touch you?”

Standing behind Rhysa, Aryn chuckled. Lady Kasteryn’s eyes widened in surprise, then she laughed lightly. “Extraordinary. Very well done, Aryn.”

“Thank you. Now stand together and let me see if I’ve balanced you right.” Apparently she had, for when they stood next to each other, Aryn smiled broadly. “Very nice. I think you’re ready. I’ll send my bill tomorrow.” Lady Kasteryn thanked her, and Aryn left the room carrying what few tools she actually needed.

Lady Kasteryn looked Rhysa and Elise over. “She does excellent work, doesn’t she. I would suggest leaving swords here in my house.” Elise made a noise and Lady Kasteryn nodded sympathetically. “I understand. You wouldn’t be able to wear it in the presence of the Royals, though. Go ahead and wear your daggers. They trust me that far, at least.”

Elise snorted. “They should, after you saved the king several years ago.” Rhysa recalled the tapestry in Elise’s room when they’d first met: a lone figure surrounded by bodies, and wearing the livery of a Royal Bodyguard. And behind the figure, the king, sorely wounded, but unafraid.

Lady Kasteryn ignored Elise’s comment. Instead, she looked them over once more. “Our carriage is waiting.”

Lady Kasteryn led the trio with Elise and Rhysa flanking and a little behind to the left and right, respectively. The whole household knew where they were going, of course, but weren’t prepared for the artistry of Aryn’s gowns. Everyone in the halls stopped as the three of them came in sight, moving only to get out of the way. In their wake, Rhysa heard whispers of wonder and amazement and approval.

The carriage displayed Lady Kasteryn’s winged sword sigil on the door, the pierced chains inlaid with some dark wood Rhysa did not recognize. The inside was comfortable, if plain and utilitarian. Rhysa climbed in first at a gesture from Lady Kasteryn. Inside, she sat facing forward on the cushioned bench next to the window on the other side. Lady Kasteryn climbed in next and sat beside Rhysa. Elise entered and sat on the opposite bench facing Rhysa and Lady Kasteryn. A footman closed the door firmly, and climbed up next to the driver. At a signal from the driver, the horses moved forward.

The ride to the palace was quiet except for Lady Kasteryn’s reminders of protocol.

“When we’re shown in,” said Lady Kasteryn, “keep your eyes on the Royals as we walk towards them. The majordomo will escort us and stop at the proper distance. Don’t get ahead of him. When he stops, curtsey deeply and stay there with your head bowed. Normally you’re supposed to kneel on one knee, but no one will expect that from someone in a formal gown. When you’re introduced, stand and look the Royals in the eye. They demand respect, but despise subservience.” Lady Kasteryn paused as she eyed Rhysa. “The prince has asked you to call him by name. His parents know this. Treat him as close to a friend as you can bring yourself.” Her smile let Rhysa know Lady Kasteryn understood how difficult that would be.

Lady Kasteryn returned to general protocol. “You both have served during formal dinners in my house. This will be similar, if more opulent. If in doubt, follow the queen’s lead.”

Lady Kasteryn fell silent and Rhysa lost herself in thought once more. She really wished she’d been able to review the information she’d picked up earlier that day. What was it her subconscious wanted her to see? Unfortunately, she did not have time to ponder long before the palace loomed outside her window, distracting her from her problems.

The carriage wheels rattled on the cobblestones as they entered a large courtyard obviously meant to hold long lines of carriages carrying distinguished guests. The passage across the courtyard was artistically rough; no one would be able to cross it in carriage or wagon quietly. Even small, one-horse cabriolets would cause enough noise to draw attention.

Across the courtyard, Rhysa saw the façade of the palace itself. Whoever had designed it had had an interest in fantastical creatures. Drain spouts on the roof were shaped like dragon heads; they glared at visitors from an impressive three-story vantage. In between the windows, bas-reliefs of unicorns cavorting with satyrs and nymphs and dryads. The windows themselves, Rhysa noticed, could be covered with heavy wood shutters overlaid with metal. The palace arched to either side of the courtyard as if embracing visitors.

Lady Kasteryn’s carriage pulled up in front of a set of sweeping stairs that rose like terraces of white marble on a large hill. The carriage rocked as the footman jumped down from the driver’s box. A moment later, he opened the carriage door. Lady Kasteryn gestured for Elise to precede her.

After Elise and Lady Kasteryn had exited, Rhysa stepped gingerly out. When she lifted her head from straightening her gown, she saw two people walking down the stairs. She wasn’t sure if she was surprised or not when she realized it was the prince--Hallyk, she reminded herself--and a bodyguard.

Rhysa didn’t see a reaction from Lady Kasteryn, though Rhysa supposed there was probably a momentary widening of the eyes. Elise, however, quite obviously froze.

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