Marmalade's Love Potion

Ch 2 - Grimwood Village - Pt 2

Penelope followed the Sisters out onto the street with a sense of renewed purpose. A light snow was falling, which quickly dusted Penelope's hair before she pulled up her hood. She held out her hand to catch several of the crystalline flakes, watching them melt into her glove with glee.

The three women followed the cobbled footpath up the sloping street until they arrived at the upper village concourse, a large circular area of levelled stone shaded by leafy, silver-barked trees. Tall, narrow buildings ringed the circular concourse road, which itself encircled a lush, open garden with an elaborate fortune fountain in the centre. The road funnelled traffic around the concourse from intersections to the north, south, east, and west.

The Grimwood Fort loomed tall in the distance beyond the concourse, lending the scene a sense of grandiosity which never failed to catch Penelope's breath.

Trading hours had begun, and the concourse was busy with shoppers on foot, as well as important-looking carriages drawn by well-groomed horses.

Penelope followed closely behind the Sisters, dancing away from the road's edge so as not to be trampled by either steed or carriage.

Sister Heely had clasped Sister Rosin's hand and was exclaiming at various window displays showcasing perfumes, extravagant feathered hats, gleaming rings and bracelets, and beaded gowns with flowing, silken trains. They passed various laneways which lead through to smaller shopping arcades and narrower roads.

Penelope had loved exploring these as a child, but had always been accompanied by one of the Sisters, or otherwise a stuffy royal escort who didn't appreciate chasing after Penelope down every lane which called to her curiosity. Today, she was itching to go exploring on her own, as she didn't always share the Sisters' interests.

As they circled the concourse footpath, Penelope noted several spell shops she wanted to explore. But first, they had to find gowns. Even with their bolstered savings, three custom gowns from a Grimwood dressmaker would be far too costly, so they wended their way down the narrow lanes and side streets which led from the concourse to Sooth & Crane. The shop was a tall, narrow tower of black stone with a series of circular rose windows set high up to capture the daylight.

Stepping inside, it was exactly as Penelope remembered. The circular floor space was a gleaming black bone marble, with a polished dark wood welcome desk in the centre. Elegantly placed around the floor space were mannequins wearing regal gowns of the finest silks and sheer fabrics. As Penelope watched, many of the gowns shifted subtly in colour, or cast shadows which glimmered with ribbons of light, as though underwater.

Set into the ceiling far, far above was an enormous chandelier with glowing crystals, chained together with bronze and golden links. A broad ramp with plush carpet and antique hand railing spiralled around the walls of the shop. The ramp wound up and up the tower, almost to the ceiling, allowing customers to peruse level upon level of fabrics which were shelved on every available wall surface. The most expensive fabrics, lace, and threads were housed on the very upper level of the spiral.

The air smelled fresh and clean, like perfumed laundry dried in the sun. The scent brought back memories of the last time Penelope had visited as a younger girl. She had spent the afternoon ignoring Sister Heely's calls, instead climbing her way up the spiral and giddily running her hands through every fabric that caught her attention. Smiling at the memory, Penelope breathed deeply, feeling impatient to explore the spiral's treasures.

A shop attendant was adjusting a gown over a mannequin frame. She looked up as the Sisters and Penelope stepped across the floor, the clip of their footsteps echoing across the showroom.

She uttered something none of them could quite make out, for she had several pins clamped between her lips. Swiftly adding them to the ruffled shoulder of the gown, she released a swathe of fabric, which spilled elegantly from shoulder to floor, like a sheer waterfall of stars.