Chapter Text
"Hey, Temult!" Ashon, one of her Royal Guard compatriots, greeted Imogen as they approached the training ground. "Stop polishing that armor, you'll blind the captain."
It wasn't the first time Ashton had teased Imogen about her equipment maintenance habit, but she was always very responsible and since she had been promoted to the Royal Guard, her enthusiasm had tripled.
"Hey, asshole," she answered warmly. "Eshteross said we had to be immaculate by the time Zeprah's delegation arrives, then don't complain when they hold you back because your armor looks like it just came out of the forge."
They both exchanged a smile full of friendship and camaraderie, after so many years of service in Whitestone's army and the arduous training to become members of the elite Royal Guard, there were few things that those two hadn’t experienced, and suffered, together. They were almost siblings. Now, under the royal command of Ser Ariks Esteross, captain of the Guard, their duties were to protect the crown and not so much on the battlefield, although they were trained as the best knights in the kingdom. Imogen thought, not without a hint of sadness, that if her father were alive he would be very proud of her.
"Just so you know, my armor is already in outstanding condition and my uniform just came out of the laundry" Ashton sat heavily next to her, looking thoughtfully at the sky. "Were you able to fix your ceremonial cloak?"
Imogen swore under her breath. She had forgotten about the damned cloak, something the Guard was supposed to wear at important events, like the celebration that would soon take place in the kingdom's capital.
Beside her, Ashton laughed heartily. "If it hadn't been little Gwendolyn who set it on fire, you'd be in trouble."
"The princess didn't set it on fire, it was just a few tiny flames"
Ashton laughed again but without any sense of mockery.
"I don't blame you, that girl has us all wrapped around her little finger."
"That's very true... hey, where can I get my cloak fixed? I was at Ellie's tailor shop the other day but they had many pending clients"
"Did you try Yios Street? There are good tailors there"
"Yes, everyone is busy. The entire city wants to show off their best clothes for the celebration and they are making everyone work overtime."
"The Circle of the Needle and Thread?"
"Too fancy to fix the cloak of a simple guard"
"Gilmore's?"
"He told me he can fix it with magic but he doesn't guarantee that the cloak won't suddenly fly away or suffocate me."
"And you decided to wait until the last minute because..."
"Beau organized a special training session in melee attack and defense, I couldn't miss it"
"I bet you couldn't."
Imogen glanced at the shit-eating grin Ashton was giving her and she couldn't help but blush.
"Shut up"
They remained silent for a few moments while they enjoyed the afternoon sun that warmed everything around them. The clear blue sky framed the peaceful cadence of the mechanism that brought life to the clock in the main square.
Finally, Ashton stretched their body exaggeratedly and stood up with a grunt from the effort.
"You better get off your ass and find someone to mend that cloak. Otherwise you'll have our entire unit punished by doing night guards in the west tower."
Imogen shuddered just thinking about it, there were ghosts in that tower and no one dared to deny it.
"Alright, alright. I'll go to Zhudanna's old shop, she always fixed my father's farm clothes, maybe she can help me."
"As long as you don't show up with a patch in the middle of your cloak, do what you have to do."
Ashton said goodbye as they walked away towards the dining room, probably in search of something to dull their ever-present hunger until dinner time.
Imogen took a deep breath and admired the gleaming breastplate of her armor, the golden filigrees standing out against the shiny background of polished steel. Yes, her father would be very proud.
She still kept in a little corner of her heart the moment when she had gone to visit him at the farm dressed in the uniform of the pages of the Whitestone army, her father's eyes filled with tears welcomed her followed by a big hug.
But a hole in her cloak wouldn't make her father proud, she thought wearily.
She carried all of her equipment to the tower where the Royal Guard had their private quarters and she put the armor on a stand with absolute reverence. On one side of her bed, over the back of a chair, her blue cloak was hanging in mocking insolence. A blackened shadow stained the golden embroidery on one of the corners of the lower edge; also there was a barely visible little hole that the playful flames had left.
Imogen took the cloak and carefully tucked it into a dark leather rucksack which she slung over her shoulder. As she passed in front of the mirror at the entrance to the Guard barracks, she checked that her royal blue tunic was wrinkle-free, her leggings stain-free, her boots well polished, and that her long, wavy lavender hair was tied up in a high ponytail, according to regulations. Hanging against her hip, the ornate sword that designated her as a knight of the Guard, was displayed proudly; they couldn't leave the castle grounds without their swords and she would never want to be seen without hers.
Zhudanna's place was in a corner a little away from the main square, squeezed between a dark and somewhat dilapidated tavern and a shoe store that specialized in women's shoes. The small business was colorful and reflected its owner in every detail, the only window next to the main door displayed colorful fabrics and quality but simple clothing. The wooden sign hanging over the door announced that you were entering the Zhudanna's Spire of Wonderful clothes .
Upon entering, Imogen was greeted by the aroma of freshly dyed fabrics and chamomile tea. She filled her lungs with a deep breath and closed her eyes.
"Imogen! It's good to see you here, dear."
The small, somewhat hunched figure of Zhudanna appeared from the back of the shop with a huge welcoming smile.
"It's good to see you too, Zhudanna," Imogen replied, instantly feeling at home.
"What brings you here? With that important job you have, I hardly see you anymore."
The woman's concern along with her veiled reproach made Imogen laugh.
"Training is hard and we have a lot of responsibilities... but you're right, I should visit you more often"
"Now you speak the truth" the woman laughed and with a few pats on the young woman's arm, she guided her to the counter.
"It's my cloak, Zhudanna, Princess Gwendolyn..., well, she had a little accident last week when we accompanied her to a friend's birthday and, well..."
Imogen took the cloak out of the bag and showed her the damage the princess's magical fire had caused.
"Oh... I'm afraid I won't be able to help you, Imogen. The embroidery is damaged and I'm afraid I can't fix it."
Imogen deflated at the woman's words as she was still inspecting the damaged cloak.
"But I know someone who could mend it..."
"Oh, that 's great! Whoever it is, Zhudanna, tell me where they live. If I appear with the cloak in this state, Captain Eshteross will have me patrol the tower where that ghost that looks like Lady Briarwood appears."
Zhudanna looked at her with a hint of amusement dancing in her tired eyes.
"I must warn you, Laudna is… she's a bit of an unusual seamstress. She's very good at her job but… let's just say she has some quirks that aren't most people's cup of tea."
Imogen stared at her a bit confused, what did it matter if the woman was a little strange? they were all a bit weird anyway, as long as she could fix her cloak…
Armed with a small map drawn by Zhudanna, Imogen began her way to the barracks. The girl seemed to live on the outskirts of the city, even a little further than some of the farms she knew. Imogen would visit her first thing the next morning as she had to return to the barracks for the night inspection, but at least there was a solution on the horizon for her burned cloak.
Laudna, like every morning, started the day very early. The sun was just beginning to rise over the mountains to the west when she opened the door to the small cottage that had been part of her family's land for several generations.
The morning dew covered the tall grass around the cottage making it look like a blanket of crystals over the vibrant green field. With a steaming cup of tea in her hands, Laudna sat in an old rocking chair and took in the morning from the porch.
Nature seemed to greet her with its calming sounds. What seemed to be a couple of deer were peeking through the nearby trees, at the edge of the forest, with curiosity and she waved at them happily. Laudna couldn’t ignore, with a little sadness, that the solitude that gave her so much peace was also what isolated her from everyone. She looked up to see the city drawn against the horizon; at the top, Lord De Rolo's castle watched over the kingdom with authority.
A noise from her backyard brought her out of her thoughts and with a smile, without even having to see what had made the noise, Laudna called to her hound with a low whistle.
"Come here, boy"
The enormous hound trotted happily towards his owner, wagging his tail energetically. In his mouth hung a dead squirrel, which he offered to Laudna with a proud growl.
"Caviar, it seems like you've been busy during the night"
The hound sat up on its hind legs, ears pricked in Laudna's direction, but could not stay still for long, a growl and a turn around the rocking chair told her that her hound thought it was time to start the morning, and she agreed. Wasting time looking longingly at a city that didn’t care about what happened to her was not efficient at all, she had already spent enough sleepless nights, suffering for something that wasn’t her fault. Now she was a different person, loneliness no longer bothered her and it wasn't as if she kept repeating that to herself in order to believe it, not at all.
Laudna left the empty tea cup on the kitchen table and headed to her small workshop, a somewhat precarious addition made of recycled wood, but strong enough to withstand the storms and long snowfalls of winter. The workshop was on one side of the cottage, a large window facing the main road let in the morning sun easily. Laduna sat on a high stool in front of the enormous table that dominated the workshop space, fabrics of all types and colors were scattered on every surface, finished projects and others halfway completed occupied every remaining corner. The woman took out of a pocket in her long black skirt a small, carefully stitched doll, its black fur contrasting with the red bow surrounding its neck and the crow skull she used as a head, and placed it at her side while she was getting ready to work.
"Let me know when it's time for lunch, Pâté," she said to the doll and then silence reigned while she grabbed a needle and thread and immersed herself in work.
Laudna had lost track of time when the sounds of steps on the gravel road announced the strange fact that someone was approaching in the direction of her house. At first, her body became rigid, in a state of alert, she had no plans to receive visitors and there was no reason for anyone to visit her: No one ever visited her.
"I know, Pâté. It may be someone who has lost their way. There is no imminent danger, I know. But..."
She looked out the window, taking care to be partially hidden by the curtains, and that's when she saw her. Advancing at a carefree pace came one of the knights of the Royal Guard, her blue tunic standing out in the sun of what seemed to be already midday. As she got closer, Laudna could see that the figure was short, even shorter than her, and slender. Her body relaxed a little, maybe she's just passing by, she told herself with a bit of suspicion still present in her mind.
Her doubts were cleared when the woman turned towards her cottage, the dangerous shine of the sword at her side alarmed her a little but she decided to be a good hostess and welcome her.
She found her in front of the entrance to her cottage while looking around curiously.
"Good morning," she told her, trying not to scare her. But the knight didn’t seem surprised at all and remained silent for a few moments while observing her intensely.
"Good morning there," she finally said to Laudna, "I’m looking for Laudna? Zhudanna told me she could help me"
Hearing the name of her old friend, Laudna's face lit up, Zhudanna was one of the few people in the city who treated her like a human being and not a monster to be scared of.
"I'm Laudna," she answered, approaching slowly, "How can I help you?"
Laudna tried a smile as the girl approached to shake her hand. The knight's warm hand and the easy smile she returned made something in her chest stir, something that had been dormant for a long time. The warm feeling spread throughout her body.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Laudna. I’m Imogen… Imogen Temult. And I really hope you can help me; you see, my cloak suffered an accident and I must have it perfect for when the celebrations begin."
Laudna let go of the woman's hand with a bit of reluctance.
"Of course, do you want to come to my workshop so I can assess the damage?"
Imogen was sitting on one of the high stools in front of the seamstress's work table, watching as the woman examined her cloak with a care she had rarely seen. Upon entering the workshop she tried to absorb everything around her but she found it difficult to take her eyes off Laudna. She’d come to that remote part of the outskirts of Whitestone in search of a seamstress, she didn't know why but she had expected to find someone Zhudanna's age, but what she had found surprised her in more ways than one. Laudna was young, around her age, and beautiful. Her dark eyes looked at her with caution and even a little fear and Imogen had done her best not to appear threatening in any way, she discovered that she didn't want Laudna to feel uncomfortable in her presence. Whatever that meant, she’ll think about that later.
Imogen's eyes followed her long, pale fingers as they ran over the embroidery of her cloak, as if she were in a trance. The midday sun coming through the window painted her ivory skin with warm light, her long, dark hair, streaked with a shock of snow-white hair, shone in silky majesty. A strange desire to caress those inviting locks invaded her but she had to shake those thoughts before they took root.
Imogen cleared her throat, trying to get her mind off that path.
"Can you mend it?"
Laudna looked at her as if she were surprised that she was still there but she smiled so brightly that left her no choice but to return it.
"I can... but it will take me a little time. It's not an easy fix because I have to rebuild all this embroidery"
"I understand. How much time do you think you’ll need?"
Laudna touched her chin as she looked out the window, in clear calculation of the time it would take to repair her cloak. After a few moments she looked back at her.
"Two days," she told her simply.
Imogen's face lit up with joy.
"Oh, that's really impressive, Laudna."
"I'll need to buy some spools of this golden thread," she explained while pointing to the golden filigree that decorated her cloak. "The thread I have is not of sufficient quality and, although I can repair the fibers of the fabric so that the burn is not noticeable, if I embroider with lower quality thread, it will be noticeable in the final result"
"Of course. Just tell me what thread I should buy and I'll bring it to you."
Laudna looked really surprised by the offer.
"I'm sure you must have a lot of things to do, I wouldn't want you..."
"It's no problem, I will complete my duties as quickly as possible and then I will go buy the thread."
"It's not cheap, this material is of high quality. I suppose it is what is appropriate for the best knights in the kingdom"
If she hadn't been looking at her so carefully, Imogen wouldn't have noticed the slight blush that painted the seamstress's cheeks, but she was looking at her. She was looking at every detail of her face.
"The price doesn't matter. And, of course, I will pay for every second of your work"
"Then you have a deal, Ser Temult."
"Please call me Imogen."
Another of her dazzling smiles and in almost a whisper "...Imogen."
The walk back to the barracks seemed too short, everything seemed brighter than it had in the morning and Imogen knew how silly that sounded, even to herself. But she couldn't help but feel different than she did before meeting Laudna. There were so many things she wanted to know about her, about her life, about her past. It seemed that she lived alone, at least she hadn’t noticed the presence of anyone else in the surroundings, she wanted to know the reason why she lived so far from the city.
Imogen had barely left the little cottage at the edge of the woods and she was already wanting to return, she wanted to keep talking to her and make her smile every time she could... gods, that smile. It was a mixture of pure sunlight and a hint of sadness that she tried to hide behind those dark and mysterious eyes.
The main entrance to the barracks came into view and Imogen sighed long and deeply.
She had to find Ashton and ask them if they knew what the courtship rules were in Whitestone.