I blew out my breath as I mounted the last step. That had always been my problem, of course. I wasn’t one of them. I tried to push the thought aside. My usual strategy of ignoring the past was harder to maintain in the face of so many memories.
Celine pulled me inside the room, almost slamming the door behind me. “Well? Did you bring it? I’ve been dying of curiosity over here. And that includes whatever was going on down at that beach. Why did Monique say those awful things? Were you really sisters once? And why do you want to go swimming? I saw your expression, you had something in mind.”
I held up my hands, laughing in protest. “I can’t possibly answer so many questions at once. How about we start with the most important one?” I walked over to her large, neatly-made bed, and unwrapped my parcel.
“I want us to go swimming because of this.” Turning around I held out my latest creation for her to see.
Celine’s eyes grew round. “Is that…?”
“A bathing costume, yes,” I said.
“But that’s…I mean…” She hurried over and examined it more closely. “We don’t have any swimming beaches in Lanare, but I’m sure this isn’t what we swam in last time we were on the islands.”
“No, it wouldn’t have been,” I said. “It’s my own design.”
“I knew you were a genius, Evie,” said Celine reverently. “Please tell me you made one for yourself as well.”
I bit my lip and then nodded.
“It’s going to be a triumph,” Celine breathed. “Can I try it on?”
“Of course, that’s why I’m here. We need to make sure it fits perfectly.”
I knew exactly why Monique had not welcomed a swimming expedition with the young royals. Men on the islands happily stripped down to their underclothes to swim, many swimming bare chested. The women, however, were not so fortunate. Most of the local commoner women happily dove in wearing their clothing. They would pull the front of their skirts between their legs and tuck them securely under their waist sash at the back, creating the effect of giant, puffy drawers.
Lanover was the most relaxed of the kingdoms and the culture on the islands was even more relaxed than the mainland. Even young, unmarried girls were permitted to show their lower legs in such a way while swimming. But the noble girls were not as free. Since long before I arrived, the fashion was for noble girls to wear loose, full-length, full-sleeve swimming gowns in a chemise style but made of wool. They were hot and heavy and unattractive. Weights sewn into the hem kept the skirts modestly around the ankles but also proved a significant obstruction to floating or swimming. It was a ridiculous costume, more covering than the usual style of day clothes, and I had to admit it was a testament to Monique’s swimming skills that she could swim at all in the ridiculous outfit.
To make the situation even worse, there was nowhere on the beach for them to change, so the poor girls had to wear the hideous costumes on the walk down. Early on in my time on Catalie, I hadn’t ever visited the beach. But once I began to explore and observe the young people swimming, I quickly adopted the local style rather than the awkward imported style of the nobles.
But for some time, my mind had been working over an entirely different sort of design. I hadn’t thought I would ever have use for it, and so had tucked the thought away into some distant part of my mind. But seeing the island again had brought it rushing back, and I had been working tirelessly over the two costumes since our arrival.
“Now that I’m here,” said Celine while I helped her into the garment, “it seems obvious you must once have lived here. I can see several aspects of the islander gowns that you incorporated into a couple of my designs.”
“I try to take inspiration from everything I see, and then mix it with something else to turn it into something of my own.”
“You succeed marvelously which is why you’re such a raging success, of course. I got all sorts of complaints from the other girls at court when they heard I was stealing you away for so long, you know.”
I flushed with pleasure at the praise.
Once I had fastened the costume securely in place, I stepped back to get the full effect. A slow smile spread across my face. It was even more magnificent than I had hoped.
The inspiration for this design had come from the islanders’ own fashion. Most wealthy women here wore dresses of light flowing material that draped elegantly across one or both shoulders, often gathered at each shoulder with some sort of elaborate clasp, and fell in soft folds to the ground. A wide band under the bust, usually in a contrasting color, gave it shape. The dresses generally had two or three layers and were worn without petticoats to combat the heat. I had always admired the elegant simplicity of the design, requiring so little sewing.
I had taken the concept and gone even further. Celine’s bathing costume was crafted from the lightest silk, so fine as to be almost—but not quite—sheer. Three layers gave it a full, floating look, and the material broke from the usual pastel shades chosen for such gowns. The band below her bust was a deep orange-red, while the material itself started at her shoulders in an orange so deep as to be almost red, gradually lightening through several shades of orange and peach before finishing on a soft yellow at her feet. And it was her feet that were the real triumph of the design. The flowing material wasn’t a true skirt, although it was full enough to look like one if she stood still. Instead, I had sewn the material into two separate legs which gathered around her ankles in solid yellow bands. She looked like a sunset, or like living flame, and she would be lighter and more mobile in the water than the local girls without ever revealing any part of her legs.
“And this is the best bit,” I said, producing a final piece from my bag. The soft single layer of silk matched the color shades of the costume perfectly, and I showed Celine how to fit it around her torso, securing it under the fiery red band. Once it was in place, it covered the trouser legs completely so that she looked as if she simply wore a striking gown.
“That’s for you to wear until we reach the beach.”
Celine examined herself in a mirror and shook her head. “Whatever we pay you, I’m sure it’s not enough. It feels like the most outrageous thing I’ve ever worn, but I can’t see a single thing my mother could complain about.” The reflection of her eyes took on a wicked twinkle. “And, of course, you could not have devised a more fitting revenge for the awful things Monique said. She’s going to die when she sees us tomorrow. Which reminds me. You haven’t told me what that was all about.”
I sighed, the rush of excitement from seeing Celine in my design instantly disappearing. I decided to keep my story as simple as possible. “When I was fourteen years old, the viscount took me in as a ward, and I lived here on Catalie in this house. Monique and her cousin Marcus didn’t appreciate my inclusion in their family, so when I was seventeen they accused me of stealing a piece of jewelry. A family heirloom owned by the viscountess but loaned to her eldest daughter for her coming out ball. Sure enough, it was found beneath my pillow. The viscount refused to listen to my pleas of innocence—as if I would be so stupid as to hide such a thing beneath my pillow—and immediately turned me out of his home and island.”
“Evie, how awful,” said Celine softly.
I shrugged, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “I traveled to the capital and was able to get work that left me enough time to take on extra dress commissions. It didn’t take long after that for me to save enough to open my little shop. And without my shop, I would never have had the opportunity to dress royalty. So it all worked out for the best.” I tried to keep my voice light, hoping she couldn’t see the extra moisture in my eyes. My emotions had been far too near the surface ever since we’d stepped on board the royal yacht.