Only one tailor's shop stood in Brindlemark, supplying the bulk of the town's attire. It also happened to be under Darien's ownership.
Shortly thereafter, two elderly women, flanked by the town guards, approached him.
Celeste tilted her head in curiosity, unsure what her lord intended.
"My lord, may peace attend you." the tailors intoned, kneeling as they arrived.
"Rise," Darien commanded. "I have designs for the garments; let us see if they may be made as I envision."
A murmur ran through those gathered. Could Darien possess skill with needle and thread? Yet none dared voice the thought.
The tailors inclined their heads.
"Come closer," Darien called, beckoning a young female servant. He pointed to her tunic. "See here—her gown hangs loose. Does it not obscure the grace of her form?"
The women glanced at her simple attire and then at their own, perplexed.
Celeste whispered under her breath, "Are not all garments so?"
Darien chose to demonstrate rather than explain. "The waist should be tailored to flatter the figure. Raise the collar slightly for refinement. Sleeves to the elbow, revealing just a hint of wrist. Leave the hem as it falls. Attend to these details carefully—craft it with precision."
The style in Darien's mind resembled a **tailored skirt suit—**elegant yet practical, designed to hint at the wearer's form without excess flourish.
The young servant trembled at being singled out, but the others watched intently, particularly Celeste, who understood the logic behind the lines and cuts.
The tailors set to work, scissors and needles moving swiftly.
Darien observed, offering guidance where needed.
Soon, the new tailored dress was complete. When the servant donned it and stepped forth, gasps arose from all but Darien.
"By the Saint Brindle..."
"So fair!"
"What elegance!"
The assembled women could scarce believe their eyes.
In Brindlemark, all attire had been shapeless, the nobility distinguished only by fabric and hue.
This new cut—slender at the waist, elegant at the shoulders—transformed the wearer, even a servant, into a vision of poise and dignity.
Celeste's eyes shone. All women are drawn to beauty, and this craft enchanted her.
Darien merely nodded; accustomed to the fashions of distant lands, the effect was expected.
"Lord," said one tailor, eyes bright, "if all garments follow this design, it shall bring renown to Brindlemark's wardrobe!"
Darien inclined his head modestly. "Your words are generous. Truly, it is your skill that brings this vision to life."
The elder tailor shook her head. "No, my lord. The honor is ours. Your design guides us; our hands merely follow your direction."
Darien's lips curved in a faint smile. "Very well. Then craft twenty of these suits for our ten young women, all in black cloth, that they may carry themselves with grace."
"As thou wishest, my lord," the elder tailor answered, determination bright in her eyes.
And so the tailors set to work. Though black cloth was dear, the Lord's command spurred them onward, and they toiled faithfully without murmur.
Darien only wished he had introduced heeled shoes; then, the effect would have been complete.
Thus passed the morning, between the rigors of etiquette and the craft of noble dress, swift and full of purpose.
With but few attendants at his command, Darien was forced to oversee many tasks himself.
He broke his fast with a humble repast—bread, cheese, and a few cured meats.
Celeste, however, looked upon her simple meal with delight, savoring the modest fare as though it were a feast.
In the afternoon, Darien returned to the town hall.
Isolde had prepared a room in readiness, and Darien bade the servants bring chairs and tables to form a rudimentary auction hall.
Though the gathering was small, Darien saw in it the chance to elevate Brindlemark's renown—and perhaps draw skilled folk to its streets.
The greater the populace of Brindlemark, the brighter the barony's prospects.
With access to otherworldly resources, Darien need not fret over meals or lodging.
Yet for true success, even pleasures must yield gain, filling coffers and fortifying the town.
The day passed in a flurry of preparation and oversight.
Celeste remained near her lord, recording all she could in her parchment scrolls, noting every detail of the proceedings.
Despite the weight of his duties, Darien moved with purpose, eager and spirited, as a lord newly come to command.
When evening fell, they supped together once more.
This night, Darien prepared soft scrambled eggs, cooked with a touch of cream and fresh herbs such as chives or thyme.
Celeste gazed in wonder. She had never seen eggs prepared so, nor tasted their richness with such seasoning. One bite and her eyes widened; she felt as though she had been deprived of a great delight all her life.
After supper, Darien withdrew to the study, poring over parchments and considering how best to govern Brindlemark.
Celeste aided him as best she could, though soon her lids grew heavy and she yawned.
"Sleepy?" Darien asked, concern in his voice.
"I—no, my lord," she answered, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
Darien smiled softly. "If you are tired, go and rest."
"I am well, truly," she insisted.
"You are helping little at the moment. 'Tis better to wash and go to bed early."
Celeste hesitated, then nodded quietly and departed to her chamber, leaving Darien to his parchments and the quiet of the study.
----
👔 Tailored Skirt Suit
- A fitted jacket paired with a matching skirt, designed to combine elegance and practicality. It allowed women to move freely while maintaining a polished, professional look. This style marked a shift from the loose, shapeless garments common in previous centuries.
Who/When: Coco Chanel (France, 1925) is often credited with popularizing the modern tailored skirt suit for women.