Temple of the Winds (Sword of Truth 4)

39

“What do you think?” Clarissa asked.

She turned a little one way and then the other, trying to mimic a natural stance while feeling anything but natural. She wasn’t sure what to do with her hands, so she clasped them behind her back.

Nathan was lounging in a chair as splendid as any she had ever seen, its padded seat and back covered with striped tan-and-gold fabric. His left leg was draped casually over one of the chair’s ornately carved arms as he slouched with his elbow propped on the chair’s other arm. His chin rested thoughtfully in the heel of his hand. His sword’s finely crafted silver scabbard hung down, so that its point touched the floor in front of the chair.

Nathan smiled that smile he had that said he was sincerely pleased.

“My dear, I think you look lovely.”

“Really? You’re not just saying that? You really like it? I don’t look… silly?”

He chuckled. “No, most definitely not silly. Ravishing, perhaps.”

“But I feel… I don’t know… presumptuous. I’ve never even seen clothes so fine, much less tried them on.”

He shrugged. “Then it’s about time you did.”

The dressmaker, a thin, neat man with only a wisp of long gray hair covering the bald expanse atop his head, returned through the curtained doorway. He gripped each end of the tape measure draped around his neck, seesawing it nervously back and forth.

“Madam finds the dress acceptable?”

Clarissa remembered how Nathan had instructed her to conduct herself. She smoothed the rich blue satin at her hips.

“It’s not the best fit—”

The dressmaker’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Well, madam, had I known you were to grace my shop, or if you had sent the measurements on ahead, I would certainly have made the appropriate alterations.” He glanced to Nathan. His tongue darted out again. “Be assured, madam, I can make any necessary minor adjustments.”

The man bowed to Nathan. “My lord, what think you? I mean, if it were altered to suit you.”

Nathan folded his arms as he studied Clarissa the way a sculptor studied a work in progress. He squinted as he considered, rolled his tongue around inside his cheek, and made little sounds in his throat as if unable to decide. The dressmaker twiddled with the end of his tape measure

“Like madam says, it fits a little sloppily at the waist.”

“Sir, have no fear.” The dressmaker whisked around behind her, tugging sharply at the material. “See here? I have but to take a dart or two. Madam is graced with an exquisite figure. I rarely have ladies so fine of form, but I can have the dress altered in a matter of hours. I would be most honored to do the work this very night and have it delivered to you at—at—where would you be staying, my lord?”

Nathan flicked a hand. “I’ve yet to seek accommodations. Any place you could recommend with confidence?”

The dressmaker bowed again. “The Briar House would be the finest inn in Tanimura, my lord. If you wish, I’d gladly have my assistant run over there and make arrangements for you and… madam.”

Nathan straightened himself in the chair and fingered a gold coin from his pocket. He flipped the coin to the man, followed by a second, and then a third.

“Yes, thank you, that would be very kind of you.” Nathan frowned in thought, and then tossed the man another gold coin. “It’s late, but I’m sure you could convince them to keep their dining room open until we arrive. We’ve been on the road all day and could use a decent meal.” He shook a finger at the man. “Their best rooms, mind you. I’ll not have them sticking me in some cramped little sty.”

“I assure you, my lord, the Briar House has no room that could remotely be considered a sty, even by one such as yourself. And how long shall I have my assistant tell them you will be staying at their establishment?”

Nathan stroked the ruffles on the front of his shirt. “Until Emperor Jagang requires me, of course.”

“Of course, sir. And would you like the dress, my lord?”

Nathan hooked a thumb in the little pocket in the front of his green vest, letting his hand hang. “It will have to do for common wear. What do you have that would be more elegant?”

The dressmaker smiled and bowed. “Let me bring some others for your approval, and madam can try on the ones you fancy.”

“Yes,” Nathan said. “Yes, that would be best. I’m a man of wide experience and refined taste. I’m used to better. Bring something to dazzle me.”

“Of course, my lord.” He bowed twice and rushed off.

Clarissa grinned in wonder after the man had gone. “Nathan! This is the finest dress I’ve ever seen, and you wish him to show us something better?”

Nathan lifted an eyebrow. “Nothing is too good for a concubine to the emperor, the woman carrying the emperor’s child.”

Her heart fluttered to hear the prophet say that again. Sometimes, when she looked into his azure eyes, she almost saw something there, almost had the vaguest impression, if only for an instant, that Nathan was quite beyond mad. But when that serene smile of his came to his face, she melted in his confidence.

He was more daring than any man she had ever met. His daring had saved her from the brutes back in Renwold. Since then, his daring had saved them in circumstances that to her seemed worse than hopeless.

There had to be a grain of madness in daring that far beyond bold.

“Nathan, I trust in you, and will do whatever you ask of me, but please, would you tell me if this is just a story to pass us here, or do you really see such a horrid thing for my future?”

Nathan brought his leg down and rose to his full, towering height. He lifted one of her hands, bringing it to his heart as if it were the most fragile of blossoms. His long silver hair slipped over the front of his shoulder as he stood ever so close to her and looked into her eyes.

“Clarissa, it is just a tale to accomplish my goals. It in no way reflects anything I see about the future. I won’t lie to you and tell you that there are not dangers ahead, but be at ease for now, and enjoy this much of it. We must wait for a while, and I wanted you to have an enjoyable time of it.

“You are pledged to do what you must. I trust in your word. In the meantime, I wanted nothing more than to do you a simple kindness.”

“But shouldn’t we hide where people won’t know of us? Somewhere alone and out of sight?”

“That is the way criminals or unskilled runaways would hide. That’s why they get caught. It makes people suspicious. If anyone is hunting them, they look in all the dark holes, never thinking to look in the light. As long as we must hide, the best place to hide is in the open.

“The story is too preposterous for people not to believe in its truth. No one would ever consider that anybody would have the audacity to invent such a tale, and s

o no one will question it.

“Besides, we aren’t really hiding; no one is hunting us. We simply don’t want to make people suspicious. Hiding would make them so.”

She shook her head. “Nathan, you are a marvel.”

Clarissa eyed the bodice of the beautiful dress, what she could see of it, anyway, beyond the exposed flesh of her breasts, which were pushed up so high that they nearly tumbled out. She tugged at the bone stays lying against her ribs under her bosom. She had never worn such strange and uncomfortable undergarments. She couldn’t imagine why they were all required. She smoothed the silken skirt of the dress.

“Does it look good on me? I mean, honestly. Tell me the truth, Nathan. I’m just a plain woman. Doesn’t it look silly on a plain woman?”

Nathan’s eyebrow arched. “Plain? Is that what you think?”

“Of course. I’m no fool. I know I’m not—”

Nathan waved her to silence. “Maybe you should have a look for yourself.”

He pulled the sheet off the standing mirror. This was a showing room for gentleman. When he had instructed her on matters of decorum and propriety, he had told her that the mirrors in such a place were rarely used, and she wasn’t to look in one unless asked. It was the look in the gentleman’s eyes that mattered in such an exclusive shop, not the look in the mirror.

Nathan gently took her elbow and walked her before the mirror. “Forget what you see in your mind, and look at what others see when they look at you.”

Clarissa’s fingers fidgeted over the bunched frills at her waist. She nodded at Nathan, but feared to look in the mirror and be disappointed by what she always saw when she looked at herself. He gestured again. Wincing just a little out of embarrassment, she turned to gaze at her reflection.

Her jaw dropped at what she saw.

Clarissa didn’t recognize herself. She was not this young-looking. A woman—not a young, fickle woman, but a woman in the full glory of her maturity, a woman of elegance and bearing— stared back.