Anne, however, appeared to have no trouble understanding that the object of Aelliana's concern was not herself.
“Daav isn't paying for this,” she said calmly, and opened the gate.
It was as Anne had said: measurements were taken with such graceful efficiency that Aelliana scarcely cared about the necessity of disrobing before a stranger. After, she was given an undressing gown almost as nice as the green one Daav had sent to her. Tea and biscuits were served while she answered questions about her preferred colors and fabrics, and her usual occupations.
“My needs are quite simple,” Aelliana explained. “A scholar is expected to show respect for her students; and a pilot, respect for her ship. Beyond that, my occupations are research, and writing.” She glanced up at the frame, where a seemingly endless series of elegant clothing and cloaks faded into and out of existence.
“I fear that I bring no honor to your enterprise,” she said, as a particularly entrancing lady appeared in the frame, wearing a midnight blue dress, its bodice cut low and its full sleeves slashed with silver.
The tailor followed her glance. “That dress would become you extremely, Pilot. You have a good eye.”
“But no need at all for a such a garment,” Aelliana said hastily.
The tailor smiled, made a note on her pad, and inclined her head. “If you will excuse me, I must consult my database. Please, enjoy some more tea. When you are ready, you may dress and find me with Lady yos'Galan in the reviewing room.”
Aelliana frowned as the order scrolled across the low screen. Surely, she did not need a dozen shirts? Beside her, however, Anne Davis inclined her stately head and murmured, “Yes, excellent” and “Very good.”
“A cloak?” Aelliana exclaimed as that item scrolled past, accompanied by Anne's approving murmur. “I have no need of a cloak!”
The tailor extended a hand and froze the list in place.
Anne turned to Aelliana.
“The word I had from the delm was that you were to have a complete wardrobe,” she said mildly. “A complete wardrobe includes at least one cloak.”
Aelliana considered her closely. She seemed, now as she had from the start, to be a sincere and open- mannered lady, intent on doing what she had been bid by her delm. It bore recalling, she told herself, that Anne's delm had also begged Aelliana to allow herself to be guided by the lady's judgment. Anne, more than Aelliana, knew the cost of things from this emporium where she was plainly a valued client. And Anne had assured Aelliana that she could afford what she purchased here, knowing that her purchases would include . . . a cloak.
“Thank you,” she said, slowly. “I am . . . not accustomed to going about in the world.”
“That is entirely understandable,” Anne said, and looked to the patient tailor.
“I approve the suggested items for purchase,” she said easily. “Please send them to Trealla Fantrol.”
“Certainly, Lady.” The tailor inclined her head deeply. “They will be with the pilot no later than tomorrow morning.”
“That is well, then,” Anne said, briskly. “Thank you for your consideration.”
The tailor rose and bowed. “Thank you, Lady—and you, Pilot—for your patronage. You honor my shop.”
Anne came to her feet, rising like a mountain into the day. She inclined her head easily. “Good day to you,” she said, and turned to Aelliana.
“I believe I could eat some lunch,” she said companionably. “Will you join me, Pilot?”
That, Aelliana thought darkly, was surely Daav's hand, but as it happened she was beginning to feel, just a little, hungry.
“I would be pleased to join you,” she said.
* * *
“If your lordship will review the documents, I believe you will find that a very satisfactory arrangement has been constructed with Bindan.” Mr. dea'Gauss passed the first folder across his desk and into Daav's waiting hand. “The Balance with Pilot tel'Izak will, I hope, meet with your approval. It was necessary to liquidate a small personal fund, your lordship; after deducting your lifemate's portion, and funding this Balance.”
“Am I destitute, Mr. dea'Gauss?” Daav asked lightly.
“Indeed, no,” the older man answered, with one of his rare smiles. “Merely a trifle embarrassed.”
“Hah.” Daav inclined his head. “You are far too good to us, Mr. dea'Gauss.”
“Nonsense, your lordship.”
* * *
The restaurant was scarcely a block away, on yet another quietly expensive street, its trim door two shallow steps above the level of the sidewalk. They stepped into a dim vestibule overlooked by a grey-haired woman of elegant bearing, who bowed welcome.
“Lady yos'Galan, how pleasant to see you again! The garden niche for you and your guest?”
“Only if my guest will humor me,” Anne replied. “Allow me to make you known to her—this is Pilot-Scholar Aelliana Caylon. Aelliana, here is Vesa bel'Ulim, host of the Garden Gate Cafe.”
“Pilot-Scholar Caylon, you honor my establishment!” Vesa bel'Ulim bowed as host-to-honored-guest. “Please allow me to commend the garden niche to you; it is quite the most secluded table in the house; one may be entirely shielded from the curious there.”
“It is also the most pleasant seat in the house,” Anne added, and awarded the host a small bow. “Or so I believe.”
