It was all of two minutes after Moradinel left Hardwrench before Kezrin wished she could have slapped herself.
He had asked her if there was anything wrong with dress. Given her the perfect opportunity to reject it, but all her thoughts were focused on getting him to leave. She could have made something up: said she didn’t like the color, or that the fabric was all wrong, or the (wrist-length) sleeves were too short.
Even more finicky excuses from past experiences shopping came to mind as she carefully refolded the blue dress. A fault in the stitching. It didn’t “breath” correctly. Too similar to her other (non-existant) dresses.
Or maybe just told him the truth and say she simply did not want, or even need, a Noblegarden dress. Only then she would have had to explain why he had caught her poking around his shop in Silvermoon.
Instead, she had made up a lie about shopping for a Noblegarden dress. Moradinel had obliged, taking her measurements, asking for specifications. Then he had offered to give her the dress for free as an apology for hurting her some weeks before, not to mention ruining one of her white and gold uniforms.
He had apparently rushed the order, considering how quickly it had been made, and then had personally delivered it rather than leave it at an AAMS office.
She fingered the fabric wistfully. It was made to order. It had fit her perfectly, suited her style, and was definitely “nothin’ Mormel would sell.” If she’d seen it in a shop window, it would have made her yearn for the days when she did do such silly things as buy Noblegarden dresses.
The only “problem” with it was that it was from Tat Awful Elf.
But it was a nicer dress than she’d owned in years...
With a sigh, she wrapped the brown paper around it for protection and tucked it under her arm for the trip back to Booty Bay. She’d leave it in her locker there until Brae could look it over.
Then maybe it could join all the other items hiding in her closet that she tried not to think about.
He had asked her if there was anything wrong with dress. Given her the perfect opportunity to reject it, but all her thoughts were focused on getting him to leave. She could have made something up: said she didn’t like the color, or that the fabric was all wrong, or the (wrist-length) sleeves were too short.
Even more finicky excuses from past experiences shopping came to mind as she carefully refolded the blue dress. A fault in the stitching. It didn’t “breath” correctly. Too similar to her other (non-existant) dresses.
Or maybe just told him the truth and say she simply did not want, or even need, a Noblegarden dress. Only then she would have had to explain why he had caught her poking around his shop in Silvermoon.
Instead, she had made up a lie about shopping for a Noblegarden dress. Moradinel had obliged, taking her measurements, asking for specifications. Then he had offered to give her the dress for free as an apology for hurting her some weeks before, not to mention ruining one of her white and gold uniforms.
He had apparently rushed the order, considering how quickly it had been made, and then had personally delivered it rather than leave it at an AAMS office.
She fingered the fabric wistfully. It was made to order. It had fit her perfectly, suited her style, and was definitely “nothin’ Mormel would sell.” If she’d seen it in a shop window, it would have made her yearn for the days when she did do such silly things as buy Noblegarden dresses.
The only “problem” with it was that it was from Tat Awful Elf.
But it was a nicer dress than she’d owned in years...
With a sigh, she wrapped the brown paper around it for protection and tucked it under her arm for the trip back to Booty Bay. She’d leave it in her locker there until Brae could look it over.
Then maybe it could join all the other items hiding in her closet that she tried not to think about.
