Ronan had to check himself from taking too much pleasure introducing Mina Rose to the world of fashion in Bully Harbour lest he become any more condescending of her experiences. Still, the vixen’s emotions were palpable and it was infectious: to see her wonder reflected in a topic to which he found so dear to his heart was, truly, delightful. Perhaps in another life he’d have taken up tailoring himself.
“More or less,” he replied. “Some are samples if you wanted something similar in a different fabric or colour or such. Many you can buy and have adjusted now. Given the time I suspect the latter will be necessary, but once Emery has your sizing you can put orders in and pick them up another day.”
The todd would have continued, but the tinkle of the shop’s bell had alerted Emery before even her assistant had scurried to warn her: she was swift on the scene. The owner was a lithe silver tabby of advanced years, dressed simply but immaculately and possessed of a youthful vigour – which she vented almost immediately upon Ronan as she upbraided the young fox. “Little wretch, I should have your tail for a stole! You disappear for months without a word, leave me worried sick that that job of yours had gotten sick of you at last, and now you show yourself up with no booking and some charity case loitering in my shop?!” She turned her snub nose towards the other youngster, expression cool but filled with pity. “I’m so sorry my dear, his head is rarely in the right place. Pehaps you could find attire similar to your….” A meaningful pause. “Current wardrobe down by the-”
“-No no no, Emery! Madam you have me mistaken, this vixen is a dear friend of mine and in dire need of your help.”
“Hm. That much is clear.”
Ronan’s ears flattened uncomfortably: perhaps she wasn’t the ideal candidate after all. But she was the fastest, and decidedly talented to boot. Emery squinted for a moment, something softening in her calculating gaze as it raked over the poor newcomer. “Good bone structure, pleasing face, the right sort of height…” She shook her head, waving a paw. “No. Darling, no, I am booked. There’s a beast due on the hour for a final fitting and you know how I feel about being rushed.”
“We can be patient!” He grinned at Mina Rose, playfulness returning now that the temperamental feline’s ire had been soothed. “Pleeease, auntie Emery: my friend Mina Rose is new to the city and deserves to wear some of the finest! Can you not do this little favour for me? She deserves it after all she’s been through.”
Large eyes seemed, at last, to do the trick. Emery rolled her eyes with an amused snort, buffeting the todd’s snout with the fan in her paw. “Go on, get away: don’t ‘auntie’ me. The nerve.”
“Oh! I almost forgot – it’s especially important you help us out for tonight.” Ronan whispered something into the queen’s delicately tufted ear. She scowled, first, then performed a theatrical double-take to regard Mina Rose with incredulity bordering on horror. “Really?!” A beat. Recognition seemed to dawn, along with a sudden sense of pride to be working for one so associated with a Minister. “Really. Well, as long as it’s not that flat-rumped raggy-brushed sister of hers. Right.”
Snapping her pawfingers, Emery gestured for Mina Rose to follow. “Come come, dear, let’s see what we can do for you without this child prattling. My assistant will measure you whilst I ponder, and if my client arrives we’ll just have to pause. Tell me: what so you usually wear, what colours you prefer?”
Fortuna Survivor
