The Nightingale

Chapter Seven

"That's better," Anne chirped, a pleased smile rounding out her cheeks even more as she stood in front of Natasha, hands on her wide hips. "Come." She held out her hand to help Natasha down from the large stool she had been standing on while Anne fluttered around her, taking measurements and trimming the dress she had brought in. Natasha took her hand and stepped down and walked over to the large mirror Anne had standing in the back corner. She stayed close behind her as Natasha ran her hands over the cream colored dress, tilting her head to the side as she took in her appearance.

She had never worn a dress, and even though it was a more simple style than the gowns she had seen in the window, the movement of fabric around her body was unlike what she was used to. The stockings pulled up around her legs, the freedom of the skirt that curved out slightly at her hips, tightness around her torso caused by a stiffer fabric that encircled her stomach. The neckline was wide around her shoulders and lower on her chest than anything Natasha was used to wearing, and she felt the urge to tug on the hem until it covered more of her skin, but she curled her fingers in the folds of the skirt instead, trying to get used to the outfit. When Anne asked her how it fit and how she liked it, Natasha smiled and thanked her in a manner that wasn't entirely sincere, unsure of how to feel about the dress, while halfheartedly agreeing to let Anne fix up her hair, knowing it would help her blend in more with the crowds in the streets.

As Anne approached her and began to work her hands through her hair, sweeping the loose brown strands up into a bun at the back of her head, Natasha couldn't help but think how different she looked, how much she looked like her mother, and the tightness in her chest increased in a manner that had nothing to do with the dress pulled tightly against her skin. She let her eyes close briefly as Anne started to pin her hair into place, picturing her mother, trying to quell the heartache in her chest.

"There," Anne sighed, pining the last wave into place, and Natasha opened her eyes slowly, finding her reflection in the mirror again. "Much better, much more like a young lady." Her hands mimicked Natasha's position, smoothing over the soft fabric of the skirt. "Where did you come from, anyways? With those dreadful clothes." Natasha watched the older woman in the mirror as she ducked around her, moving around the fabric and adjusting the folds. She hadn't mentioned anything yet about her home on the other side of the mountains, although she hadn't stopped thinking about whether or not this woman was one of those that Ky had mentioned, one who could help her. She seemed kind, offering to have her daughters alter two other dresses for her while she worked on the cream one Natasha was wearing now, offering her new boots that would fit her better.

Knowing that she was running out of time to ask and had no other choice, Natasha looked at the woman's reflection and answered truthfully. "From the village across the mountains," she said quietly, closely watching the older woman's face. "Do you know it?"

Anne didn't respond, but her actions told Natasha everything she needed to know. Her hands faltered around her waist from where they were adjusting the fabric, and a surprised, scared expression glanced across her face before it returned to normal. It was a fleeting movement, a fleeting expression that caused her mouth to drop open minutely and her eyes to widen just barely, but Natasha had spent her entire life studying the details in objects and in people, and she saw the change in the woman's demeanor instantly.

"You do." Natasha stepped forward, away from the woman's hands, and turned around to face her. "You know something. You have to tell me, please. You have to help-"

"My girls should be almost done hemming your other dresses," the woman interrupted, "I should go check on their progress." She twisted her hands together nervously, her eyes giving away her fear now. She turned away from Natasha, but Natasha followed, grabbing lightly onto her arm.