Chapter 21: Chapter Twenty One
A delicious aroma, sweet and buttery, filled Suzy’s nostrils as she stirred awake. mories of fluffy pancakes, bathed in golden maple syrup, flooded her mind. A smile tugged at her lips as she rembered the patient afternoon she’d spent teaching Doris the intricacies of her favorite breakfast treat.
"Doris?" she called out softly, her voice still thick with sleep. "Is that you?"
A gentle voice drifted in from the bathroom. "Good morning, Milady! Just getting your bath prepared. The water will be perfect in a few monts."
Suzy stretched luxuriously, the sound of running water a soothing lody. Having Doris here made everything feel a little brighter, a little less daunting. The castle was starting to feel like a ho, albeit a rather grand and imposing one.
Slipping out of bed, Suzy padded over to the window, the crisp morning air a welco contrast to the warmth of the bedchamber. Sunlight stread through the ornate windows, illuminating a neatly laid-out outfit on a nearby chair. A simple yet elegant gown, in a soft blue that complints her eyes perfectly, shimred in the light.
"Doris, this is lovely!" Suzy called out, a genuine smile gracing her lips. Having soone anticipate her needs, choose her clothes – it was a level of pampering she’d never experienced before. It felt a little strange, yet undeniably delightful.
The bathroom door creaked open, revealing Doris with a warm smile and a steaming towel in hand. "I thought you might like this, Milady," she said, her eyes twinkling with amusent. "Blue looked so good on you, I couldn’t resist finding a similar gown."
Suzy laughed, a sound that echoed happily through the room. "But I must admit, I do love this color."
Suzy, refreshed by the warm bath, slipped into the gown, the soft fabric caressing her skin. The anticipation of a deliciously comforting breakfast, prepared with love, perked her up even further.
Monts later, Doris entered the room, the sight of fluffy pancakes piled high on a plate making her mouth water. A steaming cup of tea sat beside them, along with a small bowl of fresh berries.
"You shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble, Doris," Suzy said, pretending to scold her. But her eyes sparkled with delight.
Doris chuckled, placing a plate in front of Suzy. "Nonsense, milady. A proper Duchess deserves a proper breakfast. Now, eat up before everything gets cold."
Suzy eagerly dived into the fluffy pancakes, a dollop of butter lting into the warm syrup. With the first bite, a moan escaped her lips.
"Oh, Doris," she sighed, savoring the flavor. "This is giving!"
Doris paused, a confused frown replacing her earlier smile. "Giving, Milady?" she echoed, tilting her head in question. "Is that another one of your world’s complints?"
Suzy chuckled, her mouth still full of pancake. "Yes!" she managed between bites. "It ans... well, it ans it’s absolutely delicious! Beyond amazing!"
Understanding dawned on Doris’s face, and she burst out laughing. "Giving, huh? Well, I’m glad I could give you such a delightful breakfast then!"
As they finished their breakfast, Suzy started outlining her plans for the day. "After this," she declared, "I’m going to visit the... what did you call a fashion designer around here?"
"The modiste, Milady," Doris supplied with a smile.
Suzy’s brow furrowed. "The mo-dis-tay?" she repeated, her tongue stumbling over the unfamiliar word.
Doris chuckled. "Modiste, Milady. It’s a way of saying a dressmaker, a person who creates beautiful gowns. We don’t have a fashion designer here."
Suzy’s eyes widened. "A dressmaker! That’s exactly what I need!" she exclaid. "This gown you picked out is lovely, Doris, but honestly, most of the clothes here are a bit..." she trailed off, searching for the right word.
"Too grand?" Doris offered with a twinkle in her eye.
"Exactly!" Suzy agreed with a laugh. "I need sothing a little more... . Sothing I can feel comfortable in, sothing that reflects my personality."
Doris nodded in understanding. "Of course, Milady. A good modiste can work wonders. Let
see if I can find you soone reputable."
"Perfect!" Suzy exclaid, clapping her hands together. "After we’re done here, we’re going on a shopping spree!"
Doris looked at Suzy with confusion. "A shopping spree?"
Suzy waved her hands dismissing the word that ca out her mouth, " Nah, don’t worry about that, it’s nothing". She assured Doris.
The carriage clattered to a halt outside a bustling marketplace, the mixture of shouts, haggling, and the rhythmic clip-clop of horses were a big difference to the quiet serenity of the castle. Suzy, peeking out the window, felt a surge of excitent. This was the first ti she’d been out amongst the people since arriving at the castle, and the vibrant energy of the marketplace was a welco change from the stoic halls.
"Isn’t this amazing, Doris?" she exclaid, her voice filled with childlike wonder. "There’s so much to see!"
Doris chuckled, leaning back against the plush carriage seat. "Indeed, milady," she agreed.
"Finally!" she exclaid, throwing the door open before the coachman could even dismount to assist her. "I was starting to get cabin fever in that castle."
Doris chuckled as she followed Suzy out, her eyes twinkling with amusent. "Careful, milady," she teased.
Suzy grinned, her gaze sweeping over the vibrant stalls overflowing with colorful fabrics, fresh produce, and handcrafted wares. "I will," she declared, taking a deep breath of the crisp morning air. "This is exhilarating!"
Doris shook her head fondly, but a smile played on her lips. She knew Suzy’s adventurous spirit wouldn’t be confined by the castle walls for long.
Leading the way, Doris skillfully moved across the densely packed crowd of people, finally stopping before an unassuming storefront. A small, ornately frad sign above the door declared the establishnt to be "Mada Helena’s House of Exquisite Attire."
Suzy’s eyes widened. Despite its humble exterior, the na held a certain je ne sais quoi. This, she had a feeling, was where the real fun began.
Pushing open the door, they were greeted by a wave of warm air scented with lavender and silk. The interior was very different from how they perceived it outside. Elegant gowns in countless of colors were displayed on mannequins, their rich fabrics shimring under the soft glow of strategically placed lamps. Each dress was a work of art, a testant to the skill of the unseen craftswoman behind it.
"Welco, milady," a soft voice greeted them. A woman, her hair streaked with silver but her eyes sparkling with youthful energy, erged from behind a heavy velvet curtain. This, Suzy knew instinctively, was Mada Helena.
"Good morning," Suzy replied, forcing a smile. Despite the obvious opulence of the shop, a strange sense of unease settled in her stomach. These clothes, while undeniably beautiful, seed... stiff, almost suffocating.
Doris picked up on Suzy’s hesitation. "Mada Helena," she said, stepping forward, "this is the Duchess Cassandra. She’s looking for a new wardrobe, sothing that reflects her... unique style."
Mada Helena’s smile faltered slightly. "Unique style, you say?" she echoed, her gaze sweeping over Suzy’s simple traveling outfit with a hint of disapproval. "Of course, milady. We have a wide selection of the finest gowns here, perfect for any occasion."
Suzy wandered among the garnts, her fingers trailing over the satins and silks. They were undoubtedly beautiful, but sothing about them felt wrong. They lacked... personality.
"These are lovely," Suzy admitted, turning to Mada Helena with a polite smile. "But I was hoping for sothing a little... less... restrictive."
Mada Helena’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Restrictive?" she scoffed. "These gowns are designed to flatter the figure, milady. Anything less would be... unbecoming."
Suzy sighed inwardly. This wasn’t going to be easy. "I understand," she said patiently. "But perhaps we could... redesign so of these pieces? Add a splash of color, a different neckline? Sothing a little more modern?"
Mada Helena’s face fell. "Modern?" she echoed, her voice laced with horror. "Milady, these are tiless classics! Trends co and go, but true elegance is eternal."
Suzy bit her lip, torn between frustration and amusent. It seed Mada Helena was a stickler for tradition.
Reviews
All reviews (0)