The Empire of Dust by David Adams

Author:David Adams [Adams, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy
Published: 2016-06-14T04:00:00+00:00

Salviana lead me away from the feast hall and summoned one of her handmaidens. They disappeared, seemingly to retrieve clothes for me, and then she took me towards a smaller building attached to the side. Within were a dozen stalls with curtains strung across them. As I watched, a dwarven woman left, a bundle of clothes under her arm.

“The changing stalls,” said Salviana.

I wasn’t sure I understood. “Thank you,” I said, and I unhinged my belt and slid it out from around me, gently placing it on the ground. Then I wiggled out of my armoured pants.

“Wait,” said Salviana, her eyes wide. “What are you doing?”

“Removing my armour,” I said, and began unhitching my pauldrons.

Salviana shuffled uncomfortably, averting her gaze from me. “One usually takes a stall…and awaits their replacement clothes.”

“Removing plate takes some time,” I said, unhitching some of the straps on my breastplate.

“A lady does not reveal her chest to the public,” said Salviana. “Nor her…hind quarters.”

“This is a waste of time,” I spat, suddenly furious. I did not want to eat. I did not want to change. Most importantly, I did not want to wait. “What’s wrong with getting started early?”

“Dwarves are patient.” Salviana finally managed to look at me, still flustered. “We expect our allies to be the same.”

I grumpily folded my arms and stormed into one of the booths, pushing aside the curtain and stepping inside.

Frustration burned inside me, but I took a deep breath, held it for a time, and then let all the stress out of my body. This was just like training in Atikala. Learning discipline. Learning to put aside your own needs, wants, and desires to focus on the community.

Ssarsdale needed me. My people needed the aid of the dwarves. Whatever inconvenience they wanted to impart on me would have to be endured. Their games, their annoyances…

Someone pulled the curtain aside. It was a dwarven handmaiden, a warm smile on her face. She had a bundle of cloth in her arms, far too large to be a simple tunic.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Your clothes,” said the handmaiden, holding one end of the bundle and letting it fall out. “It’s called a dress.”

In the Witty Fox, Serren had brought me a dress—a simple piece of cloth sewn into a tube. Utilitarian. This one looked very different indeed, now that I could see it properly. It was a wide, puffy thing like a flower, designed to hang off the body and cover me to my ankles. Multiple layers over multiple layers, fluffy and full of colour. It looked heavy, itchy, and uncomfortable. Definitely not made for kobolds.

There was no way I was getting inside that thing if it were even possible. “Why do I need to wear this?” I asked.

“It is important that people understand if you are a Lord or a Lady,” said the handmaiden. “Only noble Ladies wear dresses.”

“Why?” I asked. “What does it matter. I am the Leader of Ssarsdale.” I ground my teeth. “I want to see your queen right now.

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