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Although in the same empire, the fashion of the Gran Dacchian capital and Nordis is different. The trends begin at the capital and spread to the rest of the empire, it usually reaches the North half a year later or never at all.
First, magic gates could be used to shorten the month-long travel between territories, but only a few can do so. Some bloodlines have a weak affinity to spirit stones and could not tolerate a high density of magic energy for transport. Ironically, for the head family that hunts monsters, The Norvillons had no such problems, although they do not travel to the capital much. Despite the high tolerance for magic, they do not have the mages' ability to serve as a medium for the spirit stones to be used. Only a rare few bloodlines in the world could do so.
Second, despite being in smaller in number, the noble society of the north prided themselves on identity as Northerners, which that deeply rooted in their lifestyle. Only the younger ones thirst for trends, but as they grow older, the stubborn roots as northerners will be ingrained into themselves.
Proof of such divide was the Hunting Ceremony that only northerners partake. Even the previous kings, and now, the emperor, was not invited. Also, few nobles that could be counted less than fingers visit the Gran Dacchian capital for the social season. And most of them return with the conclusion that the capital's aristocracy was exhausting.
This does not mean that northerners are somber and had no sense of trend themselves.
This is where the third reason comes in.
Madam Gyllis Vaddenver, former Countess Gyllis Huxlin. She's highly regarded for her etiquette and divorced after fourteen years of marriage. A month after the divorce, her husband married a concubine sixteen years younger.
But Madam Vaddenver, who was aware of his ex-husband's trips to brothels, had already sharpened her tools. She opened her boutique the day after the split.
And since then, she established herself as the most in-demand designer and teacher of the north. Even nobles from the capital asked for her designs and guidance, but like her ex-husband's second and third ex-wives, they too didn't even make the lists of reservations.
And you expect me to breeze in and demand clothes? Lizzie wanted to ask Blinne, who was the main source of information about the designer's life.
Still, the unneeded information was somehow useful. Through it, she concluded that Madam Vaddenver is extremely picky and self-important. She was precise and upheld manners and her craft, as tight as important as breathing.
Lizzie could not blame her. Self-made people have the right to please themselves by removing those undeserving of their art.
And as the imposing two-story establishment of the boutique approaches, Lizzie could only be worried.
She did not need new clothes, but it was the main reason why the duke let her down the center of Nordis. To increase her chances of frolicking outside the castle walls, she must fill her second wardrobe with new clothes.
"Say, Alec," she called, somehow distracted by how people outside stare at the carriage. To her amusement, she had seen people run to their houses and slam the door by the sight of the luxurious deep blue carriage. Three kneeled and one bowed on the ground. While mostly, people watch. "How would you react?"
"It depends on how I view things," he replied, also observing the scene. "Either I think of the Norvillon as protector or monsters, it depends on what I hear."
"Deep answers huh," she mumbled. She was the reason for his presence. She begged the duke to take Alec with them because "He looked so lonely," she said back then.
Devanti clicked his tongue at his daughter's favored companion but nodded at her hopeful face.
And so, in one of his rare and mysterious shows of kindness, Alec came along, although quietly, in the carriage.
The carriage stopped in front of the building. Lizzie felt apologetic for other nobles ladies who were waiting, just to be bypassed by a kid who was not on the list.
To her amazement, she was ushered straight to Madam Vaddender's private space, waiting for her with tea and a raised brow. A few knights were allowed, to escort her inside the store but only waiting by the hall. Alec, who covered himself with his hood and stood behind her, was the only one allowed as a customer, along with Fay and the happy Blinne, while the others waited outside the tearoom.
Money is not the issue. With the family crest, carved in gold against the deep blue of the carriage along with the black knights as her guards, one could not mistake the Norvillon. For the family who seldomly interacts freely in public, even a picky designer could not shoo them away.
Even if she buys all the contents of the stores in the shopping district, no one would bat an eye. The duke himself said, "Get whatever."
She wouldn't reach the vague limit of 'whatever' of course. Only the ungrateful would waste money that they didn't own on the things that they didn't need.
She'd only buy things to send her brothers as gifts and that's it. Well, maybe a few crepes for her, Alec, and the maids. The knights too. The infamous honey counterfeit from diluted sugar would be a good try and she'd compare to the ones they have at home. A cute collared bell for Honey to locate him easily. I wonder if they sell honey bread?
"Aside from the awful blue of the eyes, you are her replica."
The sharp tone snapped Lizzie out of her materialistic daydream.
"Pardon?" she asked. For a woman who was known for etiquette, the Madam's greeting was rather unladylike.
"Your mother, Kirien, I mean. I used to be her teacher too. Born a princess, but was neglected, the old king was a fool. Poor girl, came here as clueless as that wide-eyed ignorance in your eyes."
Naturally, Lizzie's head swung back to Blinne and Fay, who couldn't even look at her. That's why she somehow felt there were gaps in the maids' stories because there were omissions. Although, she couldn't blame them. The servants probably refrained from the mention of the previous duchess and regarded it as the sore spot.
Was this the duke's roundabout way of permission to know about Kirien?
How irresponsible. He's dumping on Lizzie the ways to know her mother from other people's stories.
But then, an idea popped into her head. The opportunity presented itself.
Why not?
Since the duke allowed it, aside from clothes, might as well get a new tutor too. He did say 'whatever.' And 'what' could be a 'who.'
It was clear when the duke said that Ana had only a month as her teacher. Lizzie is not like Garth nor Erdan. As a girl, she had her own set of weapons, and it would depend on how she sharpens them. It would be a shame to the family if the first lady of Norvillon knows the knowledge of books that was expected from men, but not how to bat her eyelash coyly that was expected from women.
A woman has duality.
She wanted to learn both worlds.
As they say, the Norvillons are natural predators, so Lizzie will embrace such a title. Madam Vaddenver was more than designs. With the thoughts of having the same teacher as her mother's, somehow, a warm feeling swirled in her chest.
Additionally, it would save time and lives when she chose her tutor herself.
She's also going to learn everything from the designer and sharpen her fangs.
"Madam, teach Lizzie etiquette, please?"
The older woman didn't even bat an eye and took her tea elegantly, one could mistake it as the Elixir of life. "Louder, child."
So Lizzie straightened her titled head in question, yet her tone was predatory. "I said, teach me the ways, Madam. Please be my tutor."
"So that sly duke finally sent you as a last resort to persuade me."
What, she thought of it just now—Wait, did he really think of this far ahead?
But the problem at hand was not her father's already infamous manipulative personality.
The madam was already eyeing her, like how she designs clothes as if dressing Lizzie in her own colors from the yards of fabric in her head.
Or it how jewelers assess a rock and the miracles it'll take to make a diamond.
"Papa didn't tell Lizzie anything. Lizzie just wants you to be my tutor."
The woman had her other brow raised now. "If he didn't tell you, then he wouldn't like it."
"Papa won't," Lizzie answered with uncertainty
"And why is that?"
For a moment, she could not answer him. "Because I get the feeling that he's dumping the responsibility of talking about my mother on you." sounds wrong. So, in simpler words, she said. "Because Papa loves Lizzie!"
Alec was probably grinning behind her as if saying learning deeper into the poetic literature of the empire would give her an exact description of her embarrassment.
Madam Vaddenver laughed, cackled to be exact. It was a burst of laughter with no inhibitions nor unrestrained by etiquette. "That man? Love, you say?"
Somehow, the older woman's disbelief annoyed her.
"What a funny child, I see. I accept then, only if the duke allowed me to step foot in the castle."
"Understood."
"But remember child, I am now nothing but a designer, I also only had a few students, and it has been a long time since I accepted one."
"Then, may I ask who are the most memorable among them?"
"First, your mother..." Madam Vaddenver said after a short silence. "She's elegant... not until she opens her mouth and she moves. She was too eager, yet failed most of the time. Our lessons never finished, but I think she did improve her dancing. And the second..." Madam Vaddenver paused. "Was a baroness from an island, the emperor's ex-fiancee."
"Oh," Lizzie mumbled. The emperor's beloved, she was called. The books she read only described her tan skin and as an 'exotic beauty.' But Lizzie did not see any paintings of her in the north.
Well, Kirien didn't even have a painting, much more the dead baroness from Alcotta.
"Rumors have it that she returned. 'From the dead,' they said. Come to think... she didn't finish my lessons as well." She then glanced at Lizzie. "Will you be able to?"
That's a scary sign, she thought. The women mentioned had different tragedies. "Who knows, but you could try me."
The designer scoffed and raised a brow. "You know the right words to sway people, Young Lady."
She grinned. Lizzie just took it as if she was already victor for a quest she made up herself, and clenched her fist under the table.
"Now, to the main topic..." Madam Vaddenver leaned forward, a little more like a businesswoman than a woman of manners. It was so swift that Lizzie didn't notice a clipboard with paper replace the spot where the Madam's teacup was. "What's your ideal design?"
Lizzie has no idea about clothes and trends. But one thing she was certain of, was that no painfully bright colors will invade her closet. And so, adult-like words slipped from her mouth with a child's bright demeanor.
"Amuse me."
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