I looked up from my needlework when I heard the bell over the door give its
little chime. There I saw a young man, a servant to a wealthy family by
the look of him, with his head bowed holding the door open wide. A woman I
couldn't help but recognize swept past him without any regard what so ever.
It was none other than the Baroness Montmollin. She looked quickly around
the shop and seeing no one, because she hadn't noticed me and I would have
liked to keep it that way, rapped her parasol several times on the counter.
"Does anyone work here?" she demanded.
The dressmaker thankfully appeared from the back room at that very moment. She curtsied politely and said, "How may I help you Madam?"
I, on the other hand, tried to sink back into the woodwork. Why did she have to come here? I hated her with every fiber of my being.
"I am throwing a ball," the Baroness announced, "in honor of my son who has completed his first two years studying law at the university."
"Very good, Madam," the dressmaker answered as expected.
"I will be requiring a new dress for myself of course and I was hoping that you could do something with the mockery of a suit that the so called tailor in Freyborg has put together for my son."
It was then that I noticed him standing a few steps behind her. Gregor was older than I remembered him, of course. He had grown up into a fine looking young man. His light brown hair was cut in the sensible conservative style of his class. There was a spray of pockmarks covering his cheeks and his eyes were every bit as gray and I had remembered. I hated him too, everything about him.
He sighed, looking bored.
The dressmaker was asking the baroness about the style she preferred for her dress and then I heard her say, "My apprentice here will get right to work on your son's attire."
I stood right up. My needlework slid to the floor in front of me. I hurried to pick it up and put it back on the chair I had been sitting in. Then remembering myself and gave an awkward curtsey.
"She is very accomplished. I fear she will some day soon surpass me in ability," the dressmaker added with a smile.
"Yes, well," was all the Baroness said. She didn't look very convinced.
I felt my cheeks grow hot and saw that Gregor was smiling at me. It made me hate him even more. I didn't look at him as I said quietly, "If you'll just follow me there's a room in the back where you can change." I turned and led him to the back motioning to the area sectioned off with a curtain. I didn't look in his direction again until I was sure he had the curtain securely closed. Then, I looked around the rest of the room not quite sure what I was looking for until my eyes fell on the pair of scissors that the tinker had come to sharpen earlier that week. I crossed the room and picked them up. Yes, the very thing. I heard him moving behind the curtain and turned to face him. I was ready.
I held the scissors there in my hand behind my back. I was going to kill him right then and there.
Then he came out from behind the curtain and said, "Well, Zara, what do you think?"
I was speechless. The scissors fell out of my hand and clattered to the floor. "You remember me?" I asked.
"Well, of course. Why wouldn't I?" he laughed.
"Your mother didn't."
He laughed again, "She doesn't notice much of anything. Now, what do you think?" He turned around, arms outstretched to show me the suit he was wearing.
"What's wrong with it?" I asked. I had studied mode and style and this particular suit of clothes was currently at the height of fashion. It fit him perfectly and I couldn't help but admit to myself that he looked very nice in it.
He shrugged, "You see that's what I thought. Mother, however, thinks it a bit too modern, I'd imagine." He winked at me.
I barely suppressed a giggle and then straitened my face again and said, "Well, what does she expect me to do to it?" I stepped forward for a closer look. I fingered the seams and the cuffs wondering how on earth I could improve on what the "so called" tailor had created.
"I don't give a damn what she expects," he said so suddenly that I jumped back and looked at him with wide eyes.
"I'm not going to her stupid party anyway," he continued, "I'd rather die than spend a moment with her pompous bourgeois friends."
I stood back and crossed my arms over my chest waiting for him to go on.
"Do you know what I've learned at the university these past two years?" he asked.
I shrugged.
"Nothing. Not one thing, except that the law, what they call the law, is no law at all. The only law is that all men are brothers . . ."
I lost track of what he was saying. In the passion of his speech he had grabbed hold of my hand and all I knew was the feeling of my hand in his and how extraordinarily gray his eyes were. And then he was saying, "I'm leaving. I don't give a damn if they disown me."
"Take me with you." The words escaped my lips before I had even realized what I was saying. I stepped back and clasped my hands over my mouth.
He was silent for a moment observing me. Then he simply said, "Yes. Yes, I think you can go with me."
The dressmaker thankfully appeared from the back room at that very moment. She curtsied politely and said, "How may I help you Madam?"
I, on the other hand, tried to sink back into the woodwork. Why did she have to come here? I hated her with every fiber of my being.
"I am throwing a ball," the Baroness announced, "in honor of my son who has completed his first two years studying law at the university."
"Very good, Madam," the dressmaker answered as expected.
"I will be requiring a new dress for myself of course and I was hoping that you could do something with the mockery of a suit that the so called tailor in Freyborg has put together for my son."
It was then that I noticed him standing a few steps behind her. Gregor was older than I remembered him, of course. He had grown up into a fine looking young man. His light brown hair was cut in the sensible conservative style of his class. There was a spray of pockmarks covering his cheeks and his eyes were every bit as gray and I had remembered. I hated him too, everything about him.
He sighed, looking bored.
The dressmaker was asking the baroness about the style she preferred for her dress and then I heard her say, "My apprentice here will get right to work on your son's attire."
I stood right up. My needlework slid to the floor in front of me. I hurried to pick it up and put it back on the chair I had been sitting in. Then remembering myself and gave an awkward curtsey.
"She is very accomplished. I fear she will some day soon surpass me in ability," the dressmaker added with a smile.
"Yes, well," was all the Baroness said. She didn't look very convinced.
I felt my cheeks grow hot and saw that Gregor was smiling at me. It made me hate him even more. I didn't look at him as I said quietly, "If you'll just follow me there's a room in the back where you can change." I turned and led him to the back motioning to the area sectioned off with a curtain. I didn't look in his direction again until I was sure he had the curtain securely closed. Then, I looked around the rest of the room not quite sure what I was looking for until my eyes fell on the pair of scissors that the tinker had come to sharpen earlier that week. I crossed the room and picked them up. Yes, the very thing. I heard him moving behind the curtain and turned to face him. I was ready.
I held the scissors there in my hand behind my back. I was going to kill him right then and there.
Then he came out from behind the curtain and said, "Well, Zara, what do you think?"
I was speechless. The scissors fell out of my hand and clattered to the floor. "You remember me?" I asked.
"Well, of course. Why wouldn't I?" he laughed.
"Your mother didn't."
He laughed again, "She doesn't notice much of anything. Now, what do you think?" He turned around, arms outstretched to show me the suit he was wearing.
"What's wrong with it?" I asked. I had studied mode and style and this particular suit of clothes was currently at the height of fashion. It fit him perfectly and I couldn't help but admit to myself that he looked very nice in it.
He shrugged, "You see that's what I thought. Mother, however, thinks it a bit too modern, I'd imagine." He winked at me.
I barely suppressed a giggle and then straitened my face again and said, "Well, what does she expect me to do to it?" I stepped forward for a closer look. I fingered the seams and the cuffs wondering how on earth I could improve on what the "so called" tailor had created.
"I don't give a damn what she expects," he said so suddenly that I jumped back and looked at him with wide eyes.
"I'm not going to her stupid party anyway," he continued, "I'd rather die than spend a moment with her pompous bourgeois friends."
I stood back and crossed my arms over my chest waiting for him to go on.
"Do you know what I've learned at the university these past two years?" he asked.
I shrugged.
"Nothing. Not one thing, except that the law, what they call the law, is no law at all. The only law is that all men are brothers . . ."
I lost track of what he was saying. In the passion of his speech he had grabbed hold of my hand and all I knew was the feeling of my hand in his and how extraordinarily gray his eyes were. And then he was saying, "I'm leaving. I don't give a damn if they disown me."
"Take me with you." The words escaped my lips before I had even realized what I was saying. I stepped back and clasped my hands over my mouth.
He was silent for a moment observing me. Then he simply said, "Yes. Yes, I think you can go with me."