“Auberon is to wed Duir’s cousin, Lady Tienne of the southlands.”
Sylvain laughed. “Duir has allowed one of his men to marry before him?”
“I was astounded as well, but there is more.” I paused for effect, but Sylvain had begun gathering his day’s food, and seemed more interested in the dried figs he’d plucked from a nearby shelf.
“How could there possibly be more?” Sylvain snipped before dropping one of the figs into his mouth. “Is Duir to wed a gypsy at midnight?” he inquired over the fig as if to further demonstrate his disregard.
“He has insisted I create his wedding vest and those of the men who will stand with him on the day.”
This last item stopped Sylvain’s preparations. “I must show you something.”
“What is wrong?” I demanded. “Something looms over you like the darkest cloud on Sunday.”
Sylvain moved from the room. Curious, I followed him.
“Sylvain?” I called, but he didn’t stop. It wasn’t until we were in the part of the house that served as the shop and my workroom that I realized why.
In the far corner of the room, piled on a table I normally used for scraps and piecing together smaller garments, lay a pile of what I could only guess was some sort of fabric.
“What is this?”
Not waiting for an answer, I walked over to the table and stared at the mass in disbelief.
“Sylvain,” I started to say, but my voice caught when my fingers touched the material. Soft, delicate and unlike anything I’d ever known, the fabric appeared to move in the morning sunlight. I rubbed my palm along it and discovered it took on a richer shade. I moved my palm back and the original hue returned.
I heard myself make little sounds of astonished pleasure as my hands luxuriated in discovery. I expressed my delight in a word, “Extraordinary.”
Purple, plum, wine all represented themselves within the one fabric. “It changes, depending on the light,” I continued, dreamily.
When a second bundle caught my eye, I moved the purple aside. Beneath the purple was crimson; vibrant, warm and a melody of cherry, red and flame. I licked my lips, there was nothing like it anywhere. The realization made me hunger to use this new material and make it my own. But the bounty was forthcoming. I gathered the crimson, only to uncover gold, burnished and tawny like the setting sun…magic…this was magic.
Sylvain’s voice woke me from my reverie.
“A man came to the shop yesterday. He had an unfamiliar accent. He asked for Father.” Sylvain faltered, the pain of loss clear in his voice
“Did this man have a name?” I asked and swallowed my own sadness.
Sylvain answered by going over to the box the fabric came in, opening it and, after feeling inside, produced a piece of parchment.
When he offered it to me, I took it from him and read the words aloud.
Dearest Samuel, my friend,
I first must apologize for the delay in sending this to you. The seas have been treacherous and I can only hope you see this before the year is out. Please send me word of its arrival, for I will worry until I know it has been received. May you find three bundles of crimson, purple, and gold in the make of the rarest velvet, for use by the finest tailor.
Monsieur Hellier of the Western Wards.
Underneath the signature the cost, an amount beyond comprehension stood out in stark relief. How had Father afforded such luxurious material? Had he some secret plan his untimely death prevented? I ran a hand through my hair and shook my head in disbelief.
“Hellier delivered the box?” I asked curiously.
“No. Only a messenger, though he sounded foreign, and he very well may have lied,” Sylvain answered, regret in his voice. “It is times such as these when I am reminded of my disadvantages.”
“You mustn’t worry, it is done. He brought something very precious to us. Father ordered this velvet.” The new word made me reverent and I savored the feel of it on my tongue. “It is of some magical workings from the Western Wards.”
“It is not magic, only hands knowing tricks you have yet to learn, Virago.”
I could hear the anxiety in Sylvain’s voice.
“Have you felt it? Have you felt how soft and yet rich it is?” I asked.
“Yes, but how was it when leather was discovered? Or the ability to wear animal pelts and furs? It is not magic, Brother.”
I went to the velvet and brought it to my face. “Ahh, Sylvain. I do not ever look at your blindness as a fault, but if only you could see the way it moves in the light, you too would know there is something otherworldly about this.”
“It is funny,” Sylvain’s voice regained its even tone. “It is exactly the opposite thought I have. I am thankful I cannot see it.”
I didn’t respond, and in my silence I heard Sylvain leave. Once alone, I had a vision so clear, so strong that I almost choked over its perfection.
“I will make Duir’s coronation vest of this velvet! Yes, I will make garments of such magnificence that they will be worthy of Duir’s drunken promise.”
Chapter 4
“You did not sleep last night.”
Sylvain stood before me. I blinked at the sunlight streaming through the shop windows. Before me on the worktable were three lengths of velvet, one each of purple, red, and gold. “I will sleep when the vest is complete. I have spent the night drawing and plotting what I hope will be worthy of a king’s coronation,” I replied through a yawn.
Sylvain went over to the window by the front door and pushed it open. The room filled with sounds of the street. Vendors peddling wares, the rumble of carriage wheels and the pound of horse hooves on the cobblestones. “It’s going to be a fine day, full of light. Promise me you will
