The Princess and The Captain

Part 3 - The Seamstress

Aspen watched as fabrics of every kind were tossed about the small space she had found herself in. Streaks of red, gold, purple and blue were scattered over a long wooden table and some stools. There were walls of silk, cotton, and every other fabric imaginable. The princess, amazed at the different gowns displayed, scanned the room with curiosity. Each dress was rich in color and fabric. Most of them were patterned with silver or gold thread, making an otherwise simple dress intricate in the most amazing way. Her eyes quickly landed on the small blonde scurrying through the home and remembered why exactly she was at a seamstress to begin with.

"Wren, it needn't be perfect. Any tunic you have lying about would be fine." Emory pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

The small woman bobbed between curtains of silk, "No, no, no, no, no. My work is going to be worn by the captain of the guard. I can't just throw a basic tunic at you as if you were some average old bloke." The girl scoffed, seemingly offended.

Aspen smiled as Emory slowly massaged her temples.

The princess had found that she quite liked Emory's seamstress friend. She was a bit more energetic than anyone Aspen had ever met and seemed to be flustered easily, but that was all part of Wren's charm. The girl radiated warmth and friendliness, which was hard to come by in this kingdom. She watched as Wren held up different shades of red fabric against Emory's face.

"I need a shade of red that makes your eyes pop, compliments your skin tone, and isn't too bright for a party while still matching your companion's gown," Wren mumbled to herself as she plucked one of the fabrics out of the bunch and brought it towards Aspen, ready to compare it to the red in her own dress. The seamstress paused to look at the princess for the second time that night, "This is a very fine dress. What did you say your name was again?"

Before she could respond, Emory's voice rang from the other side of the room, "She didn't say. And she won't. This is a lady of the court, and she would prefer if she remained anonymous." Aspen straightened the mask on her face, emphasizing Emory's statement.

Wren spun around to stare at the guard suspiciously, "You are escorting a lady of the court to the masquerade tonight? Well, this is a special occasion indeed. The captain leaving her post at the request of a beautiful lady..."

Emory's face flushed at the implication, "N-no it's not like that. I'm only tagging along for protection purposes."

The seamstress once again turned to meet Aspen's gaze. Green eyes bored into brown, "Is this true, my lady?" She asked with a sly grin.

Aspen smiled back, "Don't worry, Wren, she's coming along for the fun as well." Her smile widened upon seeing Emory's tinted cheeks.

The small woman cheered in delight, "Wonderful! Well, now you just must look fantastic, Emory." She grinned as she whisked away to find a needle, ready to start her work on the captain's tunic.

Emory made two long strides before standing right next to the princess, "You realize she now thinks we're lovers." She informed, fiddling with the hilt of her sword.

Gods, if only that were true. Aspen thought to herself as she stared into Emory's light eyes. She thought of what Emory could do to her in private quarters – and what she could do in return.

And with that line of thinking, she spoke before she could regret her words, "Oh Emory," she let her hands rest on the captain's abdomen, feeling the woman's muscle through her uniform. She focused on her hand placement before looking up at the captain, their lips merely inches apart, "If we were lovers, people wouldn't have to ask. I'd show them." She waited for a response from the woman, and when she was only met with a gaping Emory before her, she let a satisfied smile grace her face before stepping away to admire more of Wren's gowns.