Chapter 2
Dream Merchant
S even years had passed, and Tabitha still had a home at the Tailors’ second-hand shop. As such, she spent her days forcing a smile and speaking to a few shoppers in the rehearsed and surface-level way that no longer triggered her anxiety. “Yes, Goody Baker,” she said. “I’m sure I can fix the trim on that apron for you if you want to leave it—”
“Tabitha!” a well-dressed woman cried from the doorway, breaking through the threshold like all the kingdoms were at war. “I need your help.”
Tom wasn’t there, but all the shop-cats shifted in response to the noise—the most timid ones running under the display mannequins.
Tabitha forced a smile and found her voice on their behalf. “What’s the matter, Lady Sabine?”
“It’s that awful, backstabbing merchant’s daughter!” Lady Sabine spat out the words as she and a younger maid put down their bundles of silk. “She isn’t even noble, but her family has all that new money, and I tried to be kind , you know? Help her get the lay of things? I told her I was going to wear white ribbons in my dress, and she has gone and had her seamstress copy the whole design. Could you possibly do something different for me? Something new? I know the wedding is little more than a week away, but you’re always so creative, and I really must do something. ”
“What wedding?” Tabitha asked, falling behind as she had been trying to mime her silent apologies to the exiting baker’s wife and give proper deference to the new noble client at once.
“ What wedding? ” The young woman had been untying her cloak but froze mid-motion to show her disbelief. “Princess Ainsley’s wedding, of course. Didn’t you know? I thought you were close with the princess. She was the one to recommend you, after all.”
“Princess Ainsley recommended me.” That made sense. Lady Sabine and a few other younger noble women were newer patrons of the second-hand shop. They spent more coin than their village counterparts and requested fanciful and unique revisions to their elaborate gowns that sent Tabitha’s imagination soaring, so she wasn’t about to complain about their presence, but she had wondered.
Women like them didn’t belong in a small shop so far on the outskirts of town.
“Yes. Wait. No. Oh, I’m sorry.” Lady Sabine dropped her arms to her sides dramatically. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you who recommended you, but I was just so surprised. Whose wedding? She’s only been inviting the whole of Castletown, and how in the kingdoms am I supposed to stand out if I’m wearing the same gown as that blighted, common-born minx?”
The young maid tried to soothe her overwrought mistress, and a few of the cats came back out of hiding to sniff at the newcomers.
Tabitha quickly regathered herself to look at the dress in question. It was finely made, but colorless and bland. Something made to reflect the effects of the plague over the whole kingdom.
But it had been a few years, and with the princess’s wedding—surely a few bright colors to celebrate wouldn’t be amiss?
The possibilities called to Tabitha, the dull gown beckoning to her like a blank canvas. Then Tabitha could see it, the young lady wearing just a hint of scarlet in her multilayered skirts and catching the eye of a roguish noble from a rival house. Their fiery romance would be the talk of Castletown and completely fulfill all the lady’s fantastic and melodramatic dreams.
Tabitha’s fingers twitched eagerly for the task. “I can fix it for you.” Now that she had caught the vision, she simply had to.
Lady Sabine’s head perked up like a hopeful and tentative garden gnome. “Are you sure? You aren’t busy redoing a dress for yourself? It is to be the event of the season, and everyone is going to be there.”
“No. I mean, yes, I will do your gown. I wasn’t planning on going.” That kind of crowd would be far too much for Tabitha to manage on her own, even if she had wanted to.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like people, but when thoughts of all their dreams and potential stories hit her at once—it was just too much.
Lady Sabine couldn’t stand for the scandal. “But surely you must go. Surely the princess wants you to. Aren’t the two of you friends?”
That was a complicated question. Tabitha didn’t mind the noble clients. Their high-minded and frivolous ways reminded her of her cats, and she had no trouble ducking her head for them.
But the princess . . . she was different, wasn’t she?
It wasn’t a conversation Tabitha felt able to have right now, and she quickly distracted Lady Sabine by holding up her gown and talking about some changes that could be made to the design— of course it was agreed that a tasteful hint of scarlet would be just the thing for her.
After the easily distracted and satisfied lady left, there was another dress and another customer to attend to. Not a noble client, but Tabitha could still see how much the shape of the woman’s figure would improve just by tailoring the simple dress she wanted to size.
And wouldn’t that be another marvelous dream, if the hardworking and downcast farmer’s wife could wear the dress and regain a bit of the confidence she had as a much younger woman?
Tabitha’s fingers twitched again, just as eager to see that project done as the noble woman’s gown. And there was the baker’s wife’s apron that had been left earlier. Just imagine all the decadent treats that would be made while wearing that! Maybe she could embroider the straps, to reinforce them like the woman wanted, but also add a bit of flare?
Tabitha worked steadily until an elderly woman came in, her words stopping Tabitha short.
“Well,” Granny Tailor said with an air of gruff satisfaction. “I would apologize for being away for so long, but it doesn’t look like you’ve needed me here at all.”
Tabitha froze. She hadn’t been expecting Granny Tailor today, even if it was her shop. Had Tabitha left anything out of place? She couldn’t remember, but she had to say something .
“You don’t have to apologize for taking some time off—not when your husband . . .” Tabitha couldn’t quite say it. Her heart raced, and her throat dried up. These weren’t the rehearsed and fanciful words she might use to address a customer, and the thought of the tailor’s recent death still brought a tear to her eye, even with the promise of spring warming the air.
He never spoke much, but he had such a warm and grandfatherly air. Tabitha had loved him fiercely.
Granny Tailor sighed with her own tightly controlled grief. “Yes, there are a lot of memories here, but you know that isn’t the only thing keeping me away. The walk from our old house seems farther every year, especially when there isn’t someone to walk beside me. And with the children all more than grown, I can’t see any practical reason to keep it.”
“You want to sell the house?” Tabitha nodded, trying to keep the news from reaching her chest. She had lived at the shop for years, but she couldn’t be selfish. It was natural for Granny Tailor to wish to downsize with her husband’s recent death and her own failing health. The elderly woman didn’t want to keep a separate house anymore, and the shop was hers by right.
The logic of the choice didn’t stop the wave of anxiety that inevitably followed. Tabitha looked to the cats. But Tom still wasn’t there, so she moved from the counter and quickly busied her hands with one of the display dresses to calm her nerves. “Yes,” she said with forced and well-practiced cheerfulness. “Of course. I can move my things from the loft so you can stay here.”
Granny Tailor blinked at her. “Me? In the loft?” Her aged voice cracked in surprise. “And where will you stay? There’s hardly room up there for more than one person—not unless we were to sleep on top of one another. How you fit all those cats up there, I’ll never know.”
Tabitha flushed. Granny Tailor never said much about the cats, but sometimes Tabitha wondered if the elderly woman had expected that when she let in a half-starved street-girl with one cat in her arms, she would soon be giving sanctuary for nearly a dozen more. “I’ll manage.”
She would have to. She had reached her twentieth year. She wasn’t just a frightened young girl anymore, and there had to be a way for her to provide for her own future.
“Tabitha, I’m barely in this shop anymore,” the elderly woman said, turning serious. “I don’t see well enough to do the right kind of stitching, and I doubt I could manage that old loft-ladder, either.”
Tabitha frowned, unsure what Granny Tailor could possibly be implying.
The elderly woman sighed. “It doesn’t matter, does it? You’ve been living here for all this time, and you still expect me to cast you out without a word?”
Tabitha hesitated. She knew it wasn’t fair. Granny Tailor had a gruff outspokenness about her, but she had a kindness too. She never made unreasonable demands or threats.
She never left Tabitha hungry or cold.
But somehow, something in Tabitha’s bones still expected it to end that way.
She had always had an excellent imagination, after all.
“Darling, you know I have loved your creative spirit from the start. But don’t you think you’re worth a few dreams of your own? The shop is yours. It has been for the last few years—you’re the only reason we still have such loyal and noble clients coming here. This just makes it more formal.” Granny Tailor pulled an official-looking document from her apron and put it on the till.
Tabitha stared, feeling a bit light-headed as her vision blurred. She reached for one of her cats to steady her. It was like stepping into another world; she truly had never expected Granny Tailor to leave her the shop. But though she was still an unlearned street girl, she could read enough of the revised deed to recognize her own name written in black and white.
It just couldn’t be right. “But your daughters? Won’t they be upset?” Granny Tailor had three grown daughters and a whole herd of grandchildren. Tabitha sat in an awkward space between them—not quite old enough to be counted as a daughter, but not quite young enough to be a grandchild. Sometimes they all gathered about the shop to trade dress patterns and dinner recipes, and Tabitha could imagine she was part of the family too.
But that was just another faerie dream; she knew it wasn’t true.
Surely one of them would want the shop and hate her for taking it from them?
Granny Tailor only laughed. “Oh, they never wanted the place. Why would they? They always wanted adventures far from home, and now they have too much to deal with in their own families. No, your dreams are different from theirs, and this place is a much better fit for you.”
Something inside of Tabitha flinched at the words. She should have been grateful. She certainly wanted to be. But there had been something in Granny Tailor’s voice that seemed to match Lady Sabine’s scandalized shriek after the young noblewoman had learned that Tabitha didn’t plan to attend the princess’s wedding. This might be a more subtle rebuke. Or perhaps it wasn’t a true rebuke at all, and only the guilty whispers of Tabitha’s own trampled heart and discarded dreams? Granny Tailor’s daughters wouldn’t want the shop because they were proper goodwives, having children and dozens of their own adventures, fulfilling their lives in every measurable way, but Tabitha was not.
And perhaps she never would.
Throughout the Borderland Kingdoms, many respectable girls secured an engagement with an eager beau at sixteen and were married by seventeen—the same year they came of age.
It wasn’t uncommon for a more discerning young lady to wait until well into her twenties to properly settle down—they were part of a modern and progressive society, after all—but Tabitha had reached her twentieth year and had never even walked out with a man. Not on purpose anyway. Though, with the rumors that followed after her late mother (who had died the same year her daughter abandoned her) many assumed Tabitha was loose. Penniless and loose and practically tongue-tied with strangers. Not the sort of girl a proper gentleman (or even a goodman of any class or trade) would seek for a bride.
Most of the time, she didn’t mind. She had her cats. She had her work.
And now she had sole ownership of the second-hand dress shop as Granny Tailor wouldn’t hear any more arguments about the matter. The elder woman was moving in with her eldest daughter, the paperwork had all been signed, and it seemed that the shop would be Tabitha’s, whether she wanted it or not. But as Granny Tailor left just before closing, Tabitha was forced to admit that she didn’t notice her absence very much.
The steady stream of patrons slowed and tapered off; Tabitha started work on Lady Sabine’s gown, the farmer’s wife’s dress, the baker’s wife’s apron, and a few other projects that had been left for her throughout the day. She showed off her work to the cats and asked for their opinions. Tom might not be there, but a few of them responded with appropriately critical eyes.
Still not enough color on the skirt. Lady Sabine wanted to stand out!
Tabitha pulled out another seam, ready to try again.
Owning the shop was a lovely dream, one Tabitha never even dared to wish for herself, and she might not quite know what to do with it, but she knew how to keep sewing dresses and hoping they would bring a bit of magic to their respective buyers.
At some point, Tabitha might have to hire another stitch-girl to keep up with the orders or take Tabitha’s place at the till, but that should be more than enough adventure for her.
She liked the quiet.
She liked her peaceful routine.
She liked having one-sided conversations with her feline companions as they unraveled her thread, sat on her projects, or zoomed about at odd hours as all cats do. And even if she could fulfill another dream for herself, what more could a girl like her possibly wish for?
A boy showed up in the evening to earn a coin by helping her deliver the products she had already finished. Cleaning up after him, she went to put the deed to the dress shop with the rest of her important papers and the fancy calligraphy of the princess’s last letter caught her eye.
She called the delivery boy back. “Billy, do you mind telling me what this says?”
A blush heated her cheeks. A boy who couldn’t read, well, that really didn’t matter, did it? Not so long as his trade didn’t require it. But a girl who couldn’t and couldn’t teach the same skill to her daughters, sharing with them the old matron stories that taught them their duty to the kingdoms and the fates?
Now that was a true shame.
Billy nodded with no sign of judgment. Bless him. “Isn’t that the invitation to the princess’s wedding, miss? The one she and her ogre-slayer are having on the castle grounds week after next? Me and my mum got one too.”
Yes, Tabitha knew that. Or at least, she had reasoned that was what the letter must be after hearing the news from Lady Sabine. “And the bit on the end? The part that doesn’t match?”
The boy squinted, staring at the narrowly scrawled bit of black ink fitted in around the more formal gold. Then his eyes went wide. “We didn’t get that part. Do you think the princess wrote it herself? Do you get personal letters from the princess, miss? It says ‘ please come .’”
With those words, Tabitha thought of her old faerie dreams again.
And she really missed her Tom.