Second-Hand Dresses

Chapter 39: Pleasurable Rewards

A man will walk over flame and fury for the woman she loves.

—Charise Decos-Mandina

Lily held her breath as she worked the delicate needle into the fabric. Nirih's dress rippled underneath her wrist, the strips of glowing brilliance contrasting with the rapidly changing hues that rippled along the fabric wherever she touched it. She frowned as she finished a line of neat stitches hidden in the lace.

"You are beautiful when you do that," said Mindil.

Lily locked her hand in place for a moment. The tip of the needle quivered with her heartbeat.

"Oh, sorry," came the bashful response a second later.

"Just give me a second," whispered Lily. She resumed connecting the final piece to the dress. With delicate tugs, she tested the entire length of the seam to ensure it wouldn't split apart with a strong breeze. When it didn't, she did it again with a stronger force.

She was happy with the result. Standing up, she stepped back and looked at her work.

The dress was nearly perfect in shape and patterns. The Warchoisn Fagoin fluttered with her movements, the nearly invisible material had a stippled flower pattern similar to the embroidery she had done along the edges. One petal on each flower of the Fagoin was slightly different than the embroidery; she could fix it but it would take days of effort to say the least.

Worrying her lip, she took another step back until her buttocks pressed against her work table.

"Is that it?" asked Mindil as she sat up from a chair in the corner. There was a faint clinking noise as she set her glass down.

"Yes, I think it is."

"The colors? Horse-Fucker will have a fit for tomorrow's presentation."

Lily smirked. Mindil didn't hold back her opinions of Djulian. She reached out and ran her hand along the fabric, enjoying the feel of silk along the tips of her fingers. Color spread out from her touch, rippling through the fabric as she concentrated on the exact shades of cream and yellow she wanted.

Mindil inhaled sharply.

Lily's magic washed over the fabric, slowing down only along the glowing strips but not stopping. More colors ran over the lacing, attachments, and thread. The metal for the fasteners resisted her—hard materials always did—but she focused on each one until they changed.

When she finished, there was a smooth shade from cream at the top to Delicate Whispers of Gold at the bottom. The effect looked like a waterfall of gold and yellows.

"Oh, the Couple," whispered Mindil. "I don't think... I... it's... beautiful."

Lily smiled to herself and blushed faintly. "Thank you."

A wave of weakness washed over Lily. She stepped back and clutched the side of the table.

"What's wrong?" Mindil's voice took on a more concerned tone.

"Nothing, I'm just tired from the last few days. Coloring metal always drains me."

Mindil came up, the large woman reaching out with her hands to pluck Lily's free one from the air and hold it close. "The dress is perfect. With that, you need a break and a bit of celebration."

She tugged Lily away from the dress.

Lily hesitated, staring at the embroidery. The mismatched flowers with the Warchoisn scraped on her sense of completeness. It was wrong and stood out like a screaming fen-feather bird. Tugging, she took a step toward the dress.