Cingulomania | Kaz Brekker

07

Finding a Tailor hadn't been as easy as Cordelia had hoped. Most Grisha in East Ravka were already at the Little Palace. It wasn't like Cordelia could just send a missive to the Little Palace asking for an audience with her old friend, Geyna Safin.

It had taken almost a full day for Cordelia to catch word of a Tailor who worked outside of the Little Palace in East Ravka. She had left Kaz at the inn where they were staying and set off. Kaz was initially weary of Cordelia going alone to the Tailor, but she insisted that he stay at the inn. Against his better judgment, he listened to her.

Cordelia walked into the seedy-looking shop, knocking on the side of the doorframe as she did.

"Hello?" she called out. She heard the creak of the wooden floorboards from the upper floor as a new set of footsteps approached her.

"We're closed, Miss," a middle-aged man said, coming down the stairs in the back of the shop. Cordelia swallowed.

"Oh, I know. That's not why I'm here," she said.

"Then come back in the morning when we're open," the man grunted, turning to walk back up the stairs. Cordelia walked a few steps closer to the stairs before calling out to him.

"I'm in need of a Tailor," Cordelia called. "Urgently," she added.

The creaking stairs went silent. She heard a sigh and footsteps coming back toward her. The man stood at the base of the stairs and gestured for the girl to follow him. With a smile, Cordelia obliged.

At the top of the stairs was a small apartment. A wooden table sat in the corner.

"Sit," he said, walking into another room.

Cordelia walked over to the table, taking a seat on one of the rickety chairs. "You're Dmitri?" she asked him. He grunted in response. She took it as a yes.

Dmitri walked back over to the table with his Tailor kit. "What do you need to be done, miss?"

"Um, my hair, mostly. I need it to be lighter, less curly, maybe longer if you could swing that," Cordelia requested. He hummed.

"People don't usually seek out a Tailor unless they're going somewhere they shouldn't be," Dmitri stated. Cordelia hummed. "Where are you off to?"

"The capital. Os Alta," Cordelia replied. He froze. Cordelia glanced at him and took a breath. "I haven't been back in ten years, but I needed to come back for work. Some family issues, I suppose, is why I left." It was close enough to the truth.

"And you don't want to risk them recognizing you," Dmitri pieced together.

"If I could avoid it," she confirmed with a sigh.

She watched Dmitri as he rifled through his kit, pulling out some powder in a jar, perhaps some crushed dried leaves. He picked up a bit of the powder into his palm before dumping it onto Cordelia's scalp. She felt her whole head tingle, feeling the man's magic run through her hair, lightening it to a mousy brown color. Cordelia picked up a strand and saw the lighter color. She smiled.

"Were you ever at the Little Palace?" Cordelia asked, treading carefully.

"I was, for a time. There's a young girl there who serves the Queen. She was the first Tailor, they say. I saw her a few times, asked how she did it. She explained it to me. During my time there, I was a Fabrikator. It made the transition into working with features easy enough, I suppose," Dmitri explained. He pulled on a strip of her hair lightly, straightening it a bit, making softer waves. Since the hair wasn't as curled up toward her scalp, it appeared longer.

"Why did you leave then? Why become a Tailor?"

Dmitri hummed as he moved to the next trip of her hair, straightening it out. "I had the option to stay and become a stronger member of the Second Army. I wasn't interested in serving under General Kirigan." Cordelia could understand that.