Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Within the sprawlings of their bustling town, there sat a tailor’s shop on one bustling street. Not Main Street, it wasn’t that popular; but it did well enough to turn a consistent profit every month. Upon arrival last year, Alexandra had made sure everyone knew her family could make the sturdiest pants for a day in the fields or an elegant gown for the Christmas soiree. She’d overseen the printing of flyers, ads in the local paper, anything short of a town crier to bring in the lei.

And on that fateful Saturday morning, she wondered if she had succeeded a little too hard. Her older brother slammed the front door open as she was in the middle of cutting a swath of white cotton from its roll, interrupting her friendly banter with the customer. He had entered so carelessly that the walls rattled, jiggling the shelves and precious bottles and items that were stacked upon them. Expensive dyes threatened to fall to the floor.

“I’ll kill you, Konstantine!” Alexandra threatened as she dove for the blue dye jar, barely catching it in her hands. Eye twitching, she immediately knew her arm had caught a nasty splinter as she had hit the ground.

“My word!” the customer cried out.

“Alex, she’s- she’s coming!” Konstantine stammered, too enthralled in the drama to care about mere profits for the family shop. “Hide! Run! Something!” he stammered more to himself than her or the now mortified customer who had been waiting on his order.

“Sir, wait!” Alexandra called out to him as he grabbed his hat and fled past her brother. “Damn it, Konstantine!” she reprimanded. “Who the hell-?!”

He pushed past her and made for the back rooms. “Let me know when it’s safe!” he called back.

It took her a few moments to deduce who, or what, could instill such fear in so many people at once. Indeed, upon turning around to the window she could see that the street beyond was rapidly emptying. And thirty tense seconds went by before she heard the clip-clop-clip-clop of a horse drawn carriage.

“And here I thought I’d escaped all the excitement now,” Alexandra muttered to herself in awe as the carriage, painted black with yellow trim and drawn by four white mares, stopped right in front of her --her family’s-- shop. She plucked the splinter from her arm without so much as a flinch and straightened her sleeves. She strutted past the full body mirror for customers and examined herself briefly.

Piercing, blue eyes assessed the young woman before them. Her buttoned, white shirt was mostly unstained. Her flowing, black skirt hid the majority of the stains and patches. Her long, blonde curls were only slightly frizzed from the modest humidity. Fruitlessly fluffing them, she used her spare hand to scratch at her teeth for nonexistent food particles. Her necklace had been pulled out front by her dolphin dive, so she stuffed the bones of the bird and bright beads back inside her shirt. Satisfied, or just out of time, she headed back to the counter to act as casually as one could for the Lady of the Killer Castle.

The slow, heavy thuds of heeled boots on the wooden sidewalk were slow and deliberate, but emanated power to Alexandra. She involuntarily straightened her posture as the door creaked open, and the woman --or at this point the legend-- stooped to enter.

The dainty little bell rang on the door, but Alexandra felt it was more of an interruption to a private moment.

Their eyes met in an instant, bright blue marveling at burning yellow; caught by them, Alexandra could not and would not look away. The lady from the castle was beyond tall but still quite fair, hand on hip and jet black eyebrows raised. Alexandra had only ever heard the stories of such a figure clad in flowing white curtains of cloth, like an angel in a bed; but the woman in her family’s store was anything but.

She wore knee-high riding boots, tucked into which were stainless white pants. Buttoned over them was a bright red, gold-buttoned top that was perfectly accented by her black, silk gloves and black, short hair. Its design screamed Prussian, but was far more fashionable for a woman of nobility to Alexandra’s eye.

Taking a breath, Alexandra offered a slight bow and asked after a moment, “Welcome. How may I help you, my lady?”

Despite her cheerful smile, or more of an amused smirk, the woman could just barely keep her back straight inside such a small store. Were she inclined to jump, her head would go through the ceiling to gaze upon Alexandra’s squalid personal quarters. “Yes, I’m in need of a new, more reliable tailor. Good help is so hard to find these days,” she sighed more to herself than to Alexandra.

Yet, Alexandra could not help but laugh at the remark. “Yes, it seems that one must take on everyone else’s job just to keep the roof from falling down.”

Rolling her eyes, the woman smirked. “Knowing my luck, the ladder would decide to give out beneath me.”

“Knowing mine, it would just fall on me,” Alexandra retorted, to which they both shared a laugh.

Smirking, the woman examined Alexandra with renewed interest and greater intensity. Bright, red lips curled in such a gentle, soft smile clashed with her regal posturing. Power coiled inside this woman like a rattlesnake, ready to strike in the blink of an eye. It made Alexandra’s throat run dry.

It was in the still moment that Alexandra finally noticed that the woman, as beautiful as she had ever seen, was deathly pale. With the August heat, and her being stuck in a carriage, Alexandra wondered how the lady had not suffered a heatstroke. Blinking herself out of her stupor, she asked again, “So how might I assist you today, ma’am?”

The smirk fell away from the lady’s bright red lips. “Yes, about that. I find myself on short notice to clean and repair some valuable uniforms for my estate. Are you equipped to make, repair, and clean… say… thirty or so uniforms and dresses per week?” she asked, slowly eyeing Alexandra’s present wardrobe.

Scrunching her lips, Alexandra did some quick math in her head. “Hiring some extra help, yes. My family can manage that.”

Nodding along, the woman took off one glove, revealing a hand as pale as her face. “Wonderful, you’re already farther along than the last two shops I’ve stopped by,” she marveled. Placing the first glove on the counter, she slowly peeled her second glove off. “Now, I do hate to ask, but can your family handle private business relationships with discretion? You’d be an absolute angel to say so.”

Alexandra offered a smile and a nod. “Yes, of course. You would have my word.”

Raising her eyebrows, the lady asked, “Now don’t take this the wrong way, dear, but what good is your word to me, exactly?”

Briefly motioning to the store around them, Alexandra assured her, “The product of my hard work and honesty is all around you, ma’am. My father has had this shop for a year, and we have not had one complaint thus far.”

Raising her eyes to the clothes, accessories, dyes, and fabrics on display, the woman nodded along. “Your father leaves you to run his store on a Saturday,” she observed to herself. “Perhaps your word is worth more than I thought.”

“Like you said,” Alexandra began as the backdoor creaked open behind her. Both ladies turned to see Konstantine poking his curly blonde hair out. Brown eyes widening, he gasped.

Before he could make a mess of the situation, Alexandra ordered, “Break time is over, brother. Stock the shelves.” She pointed to the half-opened box that needed its contents distributed. Without missing a beat, she turned back to her potential customer. “Like you said,” she repeated, “Good help is very hard to find these days.”

It took a few seconds, but Konstantine had collected himself enough to start his way towards the shelves in question. He carefully began to restock, trying to keep his heart in his throat.

Quirking her eyebrow, the woman nodded in sincerity. “Truer words have never been spoken.”

“I should hope not. After all, they are your words, ma’am,” Alexandra muttered with a smirk.

To that, the lady barked a rather loud laugh. So unexpected was this appreciation of a joke that Konstantine jolted a jar of blue dye off its resting place. The shatter brought the cheerful conversation to an end.

“Konstantine!” Alexandra barked. “The day has just started, and already my patience with you is at an end! Clean that up!”

Nostrils flaring, he dropped his box to his side and began to stalk off.

“This will be coming out of your own pay,” she firmly warned him. He spun on his heel, threatening to unleash a piece of his mind, so enraged was he that he could ignore the supposed murderer in his midst, but Alexandra pointed to the spilled dye and spat, “That is not just expensive dye, that is now lost profits! Lost profits come out of everyone’s pay, not just yours. If Papi were here, you would not dare defy him, so do not try to fight with me!”

Before he could think of a reproach, she had shoved some cleaning rags into his chest. He grabbed at them without thinking. Alexandra ordered, “Now clean up your mess, so that I may attend to our guest.”

His eyes darted between her and the woman, anger and fear swirling in his soul.

Alexandra turned back to the woman in question. Looking upwards, she swapped her moods and calmly asked, “My apologies for the disruption, ma’am. Could I ask you to just step outside with me? The dye can have such a powerful smell, as you might have begun to notice.”

A most amused smile played upon the woman’s lips. She spun on her heeled boot and led the way.

Alexandra grabbed a pencil and booklet, following her outside, shop bell ringing in her ear. As the door closed behind her, the gentle morning heat began to wash over her. “My apologies you had to bear witness to such an unprofessional exchange, my lady. I can assure you that my brother is normally not so clumsy.”

Hands on her hip, the woman surveyed the still empty street and gently assured Alexandra, “You’ve nothing to apologize for. After all, was it you who spilled the dye?”

Scrunching her lips, Alexandra shrugged her shoulders. “First impressions are important. I just work very hard to-”

“Oh, you work very hard, I can see that,” the woman said with confidence, turning to face Alexandra fully. Her gold buttons flashed with the sun, dazzling Alexandra. “You needn’t concern yourself over first impressions with me anymore. My mind is made up. I’ll have my people send the load in question to your place of business later today, if that’s suitable.”

Alexandra’s heart began to pound at her chest, harder and harder as she realized that she’d made the sale. “That is perfectly acceptable, ma’am.”

“Excellent. Do you deliver?” she asked as she made her way towards her carriage, its driver stoic and pristine. Alexandra was utterly shocked to see that it was a woman who held the job. More around her own height, with red curls and a much more balanced complexion of the skin.

“Not such a large order, no,” Alexandra confessed. “I usually manage what I can by myself.”

Nodding, the woman decided, “You by yourself simply won’t be enough for the task, but that in itself isn’t a problem… I tell you what, have them ready by Sunday evening. Say, six o’clock, and I’ll have someone here to pick them up.”

Alexandra swallowed. She wasn’t sure there’d be time for sleeping or synagogue, but she was never one to let an opportunity walk by. “We will have them ready for you, ma’am. The only matter remaining is the rate.”

Waving her hand, the woman made herself comfy in the carriage. “Your rates are acceptable to me, I’m sure. Bill me as though I were your neighbor,” she assured her with a smile.

Alexandra nodded. “Very good, ma’am.”

The woman reached for the door and was halfway to closing it when she paused.

Alexandra cocked her head, all too happy that she can have a little more time with the magnificent woman. “Yes, my lady?”

Cocking her own head, the woman looked at her curiously. “Do you take- no, I suppose you don’t. You only accept lei?”

This time, Alexandra failed to contain her confusion, blinking a few times. “Um- yes, lei only. Sorry. Ma’am.” She scratched down a note to ask Papi about other currencies.

Smiling pleasantly, the woman nodded. “I suppose that’s to be expected these days. Nonetheless, you’ve proven to be an angel for me, dear. I’m sure my order will be returned to me 'spick-and-span', as they say in the States,” she rambled on, ending in a chuckle as she shut the carriage door.

Alexandra stepped back, bowing briefly and waving goodbye to the richest woman in Eastern Romania. The shock and wonder wore off quickly as she went back inside. The place stank of dye, and her brother had only barely managed to clean the mess up.

“Papi says she is the Devil,” he spat, glaring at her.

She returned her pencil and booklet to the counter and began opening the windows, using her skirt as a makeshift fan and conveniently venting out her frustrations. She knew it was usually a man’s job to defend the lady’s honor, but since the man was the aggressor today she felt no shame in doing it herself. “The Devil is supposed to be dressed in wool, not finer cloth. He is also not a she! Besides, gossip and rumors do not put food on our plates, Konstantine!” she spat back. “She is sending the largest order we have ever had, and she wants it cleaned by tomorrow, so make yourself useful and let the others know. Get the washboards ready after you are done with cleaning up your mess.”

“You cannot keep telling me what to do,” he started to shout.

Fanning more violently through the open door, Alexandra shouted back, “You cannot keep letting me down so miserably! You want to think yourself above me? Do better than me!”

“Alex?” a little girl’s voice peeped out from the backroom.

Alexandra turned around, a fresh but tired smile on her face. “Ingrid! Back already? Where is Papi?”

Little Ingrid, with her bright, blue eyes and cautiously advanced. “Papi is not done with his friends. He said to come back and help you and Konstantine. I saw a lot of people running away. They said the scary lady was visiting everyone. Did she visit us? Was she very, very scary?”

Alexandra knelt down and brushed her little sister’s bangs out of her eyes. “No, Ingrid. The scary lady was not scary at all to me. And she was very, very pretty. But not as pretty as Mami.”

Ingrid giggled. “You always say that!”

Shrugging, Alexandra sighed, “It’s not my fault if it is always true. Now, go upstairs and grab my blanket for me. You will help me fan the smell away, before customers start coming back.”

Giggling, Ingrid nodded and rushed off.

Grimacing, Alexandra stood back up and craned her back with a grunt. Rolling her shoulders back, she flinched with the popping and took a deep breath. Her brother was gone, but off to fulfill her request was not a guarantee. It wouldn’t matter just yet if the washboards weren’t ready, so she let it go for the time being. Whether or not he followed through, he would have to answer to their father, who would surely put him in his place.

“I think today will be one of the good days,” she sighed to herself. Her eyes fell upon the gloves, black silk, left on the counter. “There is no need to panic,” she quickly told herself. “I will just hold them for her. Maybe she will return for them. Or I’ll just wash them with the rest of her order. Today will be good.”

The day was most definitely not good.

First, their father returned from collecting what orders he could from those who could spare the expense for such a service. Some repairs, some new pants, more of the same. She took his scratched up notes of names, prices, dates, and locations and hurriedly transcribed them into an infinitely nicer cursive that only she could read. He was supposed to be elated, hearing about such a large order from such a wealthy woman.

“You have sold our souls to the Devil!” he roared, his originally impressive height falling far short to the beautiful woman in question. “Have you not been made aware by now of that fowl demon’s business?! They say she-!”

“They say many things!” Alexandra yelled back, her foot stamping into the wooden floorboards of their tiny kitchenette. “Such a large order will put us many months ahead!”

“We will lose our heads in not so many months, child!” he quickly calculated. “Anyone who deals with that she-devil will die!”

“Then you don’t have to deal with her!” Alexandra shrieked, waving her hands in the air in mock surrender. “I will carry out the order myself, and you will still get the lei from it! And because I will be busy making you so much money, you will have to put more responsibility on Konstantine! I am sure he will magically turn himself inside out and become the best shopkeep anyone has ever seen!”

Her father’s piercing glare had been blunted years ago, but he still tried to instill fear with it. “Are you quite finished, Alex?”

She balked at him. “So only you and Konstantine are allowed to scream at me? And only when you are done, is all screaming to cease?”

“I should whip you for this backtalk!” he decided.

“Nobody can hurt me anymore! Not you, not your oaf of a son!” Meeting his glare head on, she seethed, “I have my work to do. The least you can do is leave me be, so that I may produce more lei for you while I get nothing.”

Before he could make good on his threat, she stormed out and left him to his own, feeble devices. She spent the next few hours preparing the washboards herself, bribing her friends to help do some laundry with her, and washing the black silken gloves with great care. She imbued them with a floral scent, something that usually cost extra, and packaged it all up with a hand-written note in her most patient cursive.

“Special salutations from the Cel-Tradat family. -A”

Satisfied with the gloves, she was confident they could dry in the heat and be ready to go tomorrow.

The only problem left was the order, which arrived on time. Alexandra first began to wonder if her father --and by extension the rest of the village-- was onto something when the delivery boy, again played by a woman, hurriedly and hastily dumped the boxes off without so much as a nod and hastily rode off with the empty cart bouncing along the bumps in their back alley road.

Alexandra swallowed hard, and Konstantine yelped, when they opened the first box. The muted, red uniforms were not too terribly torn, minor repairs would be required. The issue was that they weren’t supposed to be red at all.

Alexandra reeled her hand back when the fabric squished under her pull. She and Konstantine stared at her bloody hand for a good five seconds before he reeled around, but she was faster and snatched his arm in time with her clean hand.

“Listen, please,” she quietly asked him. “Go to our friends and tell them I was confused. I don’t want their help tonight. They can keep the money, just make sure they don’t show up. Then you come right back here and help me clean these up. Please.”

“This is insanity,” he gasped, retching his arm free. “You got us into this mess, you can clean it up yourself! That is what you had me do today, did you not?!”

She grabbed him again, this time with her bloody hand. “Konstantine! If I fall, you fall with me!”

He stopped, glaring at her, but he stopped nonetheless.

She glared right back at him. “You and Papi would not be living such a luxurious life if it were not for me, so for the love of the Lord Himself, you will help me with this tonight, or you will face this world without me some day!”

“I can’t do this-” he choked out, eyes looking anywhere but the bloody clothes.

“For God’s sake, brother, nobody is actually in them this time,” she spat but then shuddered. Clearing her throat, she made a conscious effort to offer a softer, kinder voice. “We need to work together, Konstantine. It’s going to take us all night long if all of them are this bad.” She let go of him. “I’m going to get started. If you leave me, I won’t have time to stop you, but I will fail without you.”

She turned her back to him and got to work, muttering, “Happy birthday to me.”