I laugh, draining some of the tension. “So, even if you don't accept payment, it's still about the money.”
“Money does help. I can't survive on my own without it.” Heading back to her chair, she says, “What do you think?”
“I don't know. It's like what I wanted, but a lot more. I've never done anything like this.”
“The engagement dress I made was a much bigger step than this.”
“That doesn't count. The other options were worse than wearing my underthings.”
“And you liked not having to do that, right?”
I sink into my chair. “That's true.”
“And how could more freedom with your clothes be bad? Freedom not just for one day, but any day you want it.”
“I suppose it wouldn't be all bad.” My gloves suddenly feel oppressive. One by one I pull at the fingers and discard them on the arm of the chair. “What I'd really like freedom from is my life.” Did I really blurt that out? Surprisingly I find myself meaning it, but still. To say it out loud? Is freedom even an option?
Katherine goes still. “Would you escape if someone helped you?”
“There's no escape when your fiance is a warlock.” Of course it isn't an option. A bitter laugh escapes me. “I suppose in contrast, a little wardrobe change isn't so dreadful.”
“Good. I have the perfect outfit. I'll adjust it and have it sent. May I stop by next week?”
“Of course. Perhaps Cynthia can join us. I'd like for the two of you to meet.”
“And I'd like to meet your sister.” She stands.
“Would you mind coming on a council day? The Chancellor would be gone then, though I don't know when it will be.”
“I'll figure it out, and come when he'll be away.”
“Hopefully, I'll see you soon then.”
***
Two days later, I stare at the package Katherine sent. I should ring for Phyllis to help me dress, but instead pick up the package. It feels heavier than it really is, as if the weight of my trying to gain more freedom in clothing is weighing it down. Not having to bother with Phyllis will be better than any consequences this new outfit could bring.
Chancellor Zade sent a note with breakfast saying he has a gift for me, and wanted to see me in the study. The last, and only, gifts I received were horrid. Despite possibly causing more problems, the dress helps me feel more confident. Will he like it? Hate it? Punish me over it? Or just ignore it? Pushing away my misgivings, I focus on the package.
The strings come undone easily. Beneath the wrappings are a charcoal colored blouse and skirt. I hold them up. Buttons line the front and back, though on closer inspection, only the ones on the front are workable. It's embroidered with a darker shade of thread. Tasteful, but not overdone. Other than being two pieces, it's too elaborate to be a tarnished ensemble.
I like it, but I don't know if I can wear it. The thought of getting dressed myself encourages me to try. I step into the skirt and put the blouse on, button it, and place the belt over it like the instructions suggest. It's easier than I expect. Almost like helping my sisters, but on myself.
The mirror beckons me. I hesitate a moment, then stride to it. The outfit looks good. Really good. I can't believe how much I like it. The blouse is elbow length and has matching gloves. A thick black belt is over the top of the skirt and blouse making it appear that I'm wearing a one piece with the top puffed out. The belt seems masculine, but holds a certain appeal. The material is soft as I brush it with my fingers. The front buttons are appealing rather than confining. They're the size of a strawberry, and spaced apart with fabric covering them instead of tiny ones clustered together. But is it acceptable?
I adjust the belt, though it was perfectly fine, and head for the study. I pause just outside it. When will I learn to take problems on at full force? Not today. I can't bring myself to touch the knob.
“You can go in.” I jump at Chancellor Zade's voice. “It's all right.”
I put a hand to my chest. “I thought you were in there.”
“No, I was taking care of a few things.”
He brushes against me to open the door. “Go on in and pick a seat.”
I walk past him, aware of our close proximity. The maroon chair was unlucky for me last time, so I pick the sofa. No word about the dress. Maybe he didn't notice, or even better, is ignoring it.
Chancellor Zade opts to sit next to me. Why is he getting so close? The memory of Thomas attacking me surfaces. I inch away from him, ready to defend myself if needed.
“Serena, my family learned that I'm getting married and wants to meet you.” The thought of having to meet another warlock isn't as bad as being attacked, but not something I'm eager to do. “They can't come now, so they sent a gift instead.”
I won't have to meet them then. Realizing this, I want to relax, but the threat of a gift still hangs over me.
“They are sending a lady's maid. She should be here next week.”