Reyr the Gold (Dragonwall Series # 2)

Chapter 1 - The Dress Shop

Kastali Dun

Most of us grow up dreaming of magical worlds, wishing we might escape and leave our old lives behind. Few, if any, get the chance. Perhaps that is what makes the heroine of this story so special; but do not be deceived, for no life is ever easy, even if you leave one for another. Our heroine, Claire, learned this the hard way. Circumstances for her were bound to get harder, and she wouldn't realize this for some time. Until that time, she was determined to make the most of her new life.

Claire was from Battle Ground, Indiana, a place where nothing interesting ever happened, except for the time a dragon fell from the sky. That dragon turned out to be a Drengr—a dragon blessed with humanity—and his name was Cyrus. Cyrus's appearance triggered a rapid chain of events that brought Claire through a magical portal and into the world of Dragonwall. After that, she came face to face with King Talon, the most frustrating and difficult man she had ever known. It was a lot to digest in a few short months, and none of it had been easy.

Now she found herself in vastly different circumstances. She found herself strolling carefree through the city of Kastali Dun, her friend Reyr by her side. As she made her way through the Merchant District, she spared no consideration for the difficulties to come. Her mind was consumed with excitement and possibility. Today was her first time venturing beyond the confines of the keep.

Spying her destination, she stopped in front of a tall building. Large windows offered passersby a glimpse from within. Claire's eyes fell upon a welcome sight. Displayed within were elegantly dressed mannequins flaunting Kastali Dun's latest fashions. The gowns were extravagant, with layers of silk and lace, delicate embroidery, and embellished beading. One particular gown caught her attention more than the others. It was the least flashy—more simply made. She studied it, smiling. The gown was khaki, almost golden in color. Layers of silk made up the skirt and long sleeves, which opened at the elbow, a popular trend in the capital. The front of the bodice was fashioned with different silk fabric—a dusty blue brocade with white lace sewn about its blunt, square neckline. She loved the gown's subtle beauty immediately.

A little wooden sign hung above the entrance to the shop. It read, 'Rosanne's Finery,' in gold lettering, and beneath it, 'Finest gowns in Dragonwall.'

"Is this the place?" Claire asked, spinning on her heel to find Reyr, who stood behind her.

"It is," he said, grinning. "You'll find no better place in Dragonwall."

Giddiness stole over her. She smiled widely as she glanced down at the stuffy dress she had on. Servant's attire was hardly tolerable (she pitied the servants for that, among other things). She was no longer a servant; she was a royal ward of King Talon. He expected her to dress the part.

Reyr opened the door to the dress shop. Together, they stepped over the threshold. A chime tinkled from within.

Claire blinked several times, allowing her eyes to adjust. "Be with you in a moment!" a woman's throaty voice called. She was a squat, older lady with red hair pinned back into a bun. Currently she was occupied with the hem of a patron's tunic. The patron stood on a pedestal and gave them respectful nods.

Turning away, Claire wandered into the shop. It was a single, spacious room filled with more than enough to keep her occupied. Colorful bolts of fabric lined the walls in columns, stretching floor to ceiling. They were assembled in an orderly manner—like a library of colorful books. There were two mirror arrangements with platforms for tailoring. The rest of the room was cluttered with well-dressed mannequins, shelves of fashionable items (bows, hats, and such), and tables laden with leather-bound sketchbooks.

On a nearby table, one of these sketchbooks lay open. The exposed drawing caught Claire's attention. She went to it, lifting the book into her hands.

A woman had been sketched wearing a lovely blue gown. The sketch, if one could call it that, was a show of superb artistry. A closer look revealed seemingly impossible details, like beading, lace, and even sequins. Claire's eyebrows drew together in wonderment. She was certain this was an optical illusion—a trick of some sort.