It was all of two minutes after Moradinel left Hardwrench before Kezrin wished she could have slapped herself.
He had asked her if there was anything wrong with dress. Given
her the perfect opportunity to reject it, but all her thoughts were
focused on getting him to leave. She could have made something up: said
she didn’t like the color, or that the fabric was all wrong, or the (wrist-length) sleeves were too short.
Even more finicky excuses from past experiences shopping came to mind as
she carefully refolded the blue dress. A fault in the stitching. It
didn’t “breath” correctly. Too similar to her other (non-existant) dresses.
Or maybe just told him the truth and say she simply did not want, or
even need, a Noblegarden dress. Only then she would have had to explain
why he had caught her poking around his shop in Silvermoon.
He had apparently rushed the order, considering how quickly it had been
made, and then had personally delivered it rather than leave it at an
AAMS office. She fingered the fabric wistfully. It was made to
order. It had fit her perfectly, suited her style, and was definitely
“nothin’ Mormel would sell.” If she’d seen it in a shop window, it
would have made her yearn for the days when she did do such silly things
as buy Noblegarden dresses.
The only “problem” with it was that it was from Tat Awful Elf.
But it was a nicer dress than she’d owned in years...
With a sigh, she wrapped the brown paper around it for protection and
tucked it under her arm for the trip back to Booty Bay. She’d leave it
in her locker there until Brae could look it over.
Then maybe it could join all the other items hiding in her closet that she tried not to think about.
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