The imagination of a child is a wonderful thing.

An Afternoon in the Cloth Kingdom

My chores are done and the sun is still shining. Time to play!

I rush up the stairs as fast as I can and dart into my room. There, waiting for me on my bed, just as she promised she would, is Gwen.

"Hello, Gwen," I call over, "I'm back!"

At the sight of me, Gwen seems to spring to life.

"Hello, Isolde," she chirps, "I missed you! How was the shop today?"

"Busy and mother is letting me help more. I got to sew a hem today without any help!"

"That's exciting! You're going to be the most famous seamstress one day, I just know it."

I feel my cheeks pinch up in a smile at the thought of someday not only being as good as my mother, but somehow better. It doesn't seem possible.

"Thank you," I say as I flop onto the bed to where she is sitting, "but let's not talk too much about sewing anymore. Mother closed the shop so no more customers and no more work."

"Okay. Then what will we talk about?"

"What we will do with the rest of our day. It is summer, so it will still be bright outside for a while. What do you want to do?"

"We could go exploring," Gwen suggests, "you know how much I want to travel the world."

"That could be fun. Oh, or we could go search for lost treasure?"

"Or fight sea monsters?"

"Maybe we could go visit the castle?"

"Oh, yes! That one! I like that one!"

At her excitement, we both spring up from the bed.

"You haven't visited the kingdom in so long," she says, "I'm sure the others will be overjoyed to see you."

Hand in hand, we hop down the stairs, jumping down the final three in one big leap. We land with a thud.

"Isolde," I hear my father call from the other room, "did you fall?"

"I'm not hurt," I call back, "I was just seeing how many stairs I could jump over. I'm up to three now."

We go to the kitchen, where my parents are already working on making dinner.

My mother drops chopped vegetables into a pot on the cooking fire, sending some of the water splashing out to sizzle on the warm bricks below it. She gives the pot a quick stir before turning to where her small collection of dried herbs hang bundled by twine and looks over them as she thinks about which one would be best for dinner. Beside her my father cuts up pieces of rabbit for the soup as Dusty, our shaggy dog, looks up at him with begging eyes.

As I enter, my father peeks over his shoulder to me and speaks.

"I wish you would not do that."

"We don't want you to hurt yourself," mother adds.

"I won't get hurt."

"Even still, could you please only jump off of things outside please," father says.

"I will try," I answer as I go over to the kitchen door, "Gwen and I are going to go play outside now."

I squeeze Gwen's hand and she waves at my parents.

"You and Gwen have fun," mother says, "we will call you in when dinner is ready."

"Rabbit stew," father says as, when he is sure my mother's back is turned, he flicks a tiny piece of meat down to Dusty.

"We'll be listening," I promise and then step outside.

Even though the afternoon sun is moving lower, it instantly warms my cheeks. The scent of hot dirt, smoke curling from the chimney, and summer wild flowers fills my nose as I take a deep breath.

"Aahh," Gwen sighs as she does the same, "I do not think there could be better weather for your visit to the kingdom. Bright happy skies, a gentle breeze, birds singing their cheerful little songs; it is perfect!"

"It is the perfect day," I nod, "the perfect day for snacks in the garden. With the weather like this, I bet all the flowers will be in bloom."

"Oh I was thinking the same thing," Gwen taps her forehead, "best friends think alike, which is why I already sent our swiftest messenger birds ahead. Why, I imagine that by now the birds have arrived at the palace and everyone is getting the gardens prepared for your arrival."

"Thank you. It sounds like we should go. We don't want to keep the others waiting."

"Then let us be off!"

Together we set out through the kingdom to the gardens of the Weaver's Palace. Down the dirt road we go, and over hills - I toss Gwen up a boulder and scramble up after her - through the forest – I circle the lone tree in the back yard three times - and stop to climb a tree so we can check our progress. I try to pull myself up to the lowest branch.

"Hup!"

My legs kick in the empty air but I can't get myself up much higher than my shoulder.

"Nope," I grunt as I drop back down, "Still can't do it. Someday maybe, but not today."

"Would you like me to climb up and take a look?" Gwen offers, "I just need a little boost from you."

I lift her up and help her to get steady on that first branch. From there, she is able to swiftly climb the rest of the way up until all I see are the bows on her shoes poking through the leaves.

"Oh Isolde," I hear her call through the branches, "it's such a wonderful view from up here. The flax field is in bloom and the palace behind it is flying flags just as bright and beautiful as the flowers. You'll see as soon as we are out of the forest."

Carefully, she works her way most of the way back down until she is on that low branch again.

"Will you catch me?" she asks.

"Always."

Graceful as ever, Gwen tumbles from the branch and catches my hands to steady herself with as she touches down. She brushes out the frills of her dress and I pick a leaf from her blue curls.

"Thank you," she says.

"That's what friends are for."

Gwen was right. As we exit the forest and see the field of flax in full bloom before us I gasp.

"Oh Gwen, it's beautiful."

Like a richly patterned fabric, blue flowers speckle the field like drops of the sunny sky scattered across the ground.

"My favorite color."

I inhale deeply letting the smell of hot dirt from the road, smoke curling from the chimney of the castle, summer wild flowers mingled in among the flax, and the wonderful smell of exactly what a great field of flax should – I think it's supposed to be like orange blossoms.

"Almost to the palace," Gwen comments as we set out again.

"I see it, but I don't know if I want to run over there or take my time walking through the flowers."

"I have a suggestion. Let's skip the rest of the way there! It's faster than walking, slower than running, and more fun than both of them."

"We can do that."

"Then what are we waiting for?"

When I am skipping, I cannot help but smile. I feel lighter, happier, like I am flying. It doesn't matter if I am in my backyard or surrounded by beautiful flowers. Up ahead, Gwen skips and jumps along, her hair, bows, and frills bouncing with each movement, but always, they fall right back into their just right place. I've never met a real princess before, but I have no doubt that she is just like them; effortlessly pretty, kind, and graceful.

By the time we reach the gates of the castle, we are both panting for breath.

"Perhaps," Gwen gasps, "we wait a moment before knocking on the door?"

I nod in agreement. As we rest, I take a moment to look up at the castle. It looks exactly like how I imagine the great buildings along the coast do; walls made of large reddish bricks, flags flapping in the wind, and ceramics tiles along the arches of the windows and doors that are painted with seashells – no, that would look out of place surrounded by forests and fields – oh, I see now, those aren't seashells, the tiles are painted with flowers.

"They are beautiful, aren't they?" Gwen comments as she looks up at the tiles with me.

"They are. Do you see that one?" I point up, "that one with the little flowers?"

"I do. Are those more flax flowers painted on it?"

"It's a different type of flower. They are called forget-me-nots. I saw them for the first time a month ago but I think they might be my favorite type of flower now. They are even bluer than flax and the name is so sweet. It's the perfect flower for friends because you would never want to forget them or how they would never want to forget you."

"I like that thought," Gwen nods, "it's very you, a thoughtful thought."

A small smile crosses my face.

"Thank you."

"Are you ready to see the others?"

"I am."

Without further hesitation, we reach up, each of us grabbing one of the castle doors' knockers, and knock on the door.

"Who goes there?" a voice asks from the other side.

"It is I, Gwen," she calls out, "with fair Isolde by my side. We have come to visit our friends of the Plush Court."

"Ah, yes," the voice says, "we received your letter and have been waiting for you. Please, come in and be welcome."

The doors creak open and we see the familiar face of the Sir Wooly, the most famous knight in the whole kingdom, waiting to greet us. He rubs his chin, which is covered in a curly white beard like my grandfather's, and smiles warmly.

"Good afternoon, fair ladies," he says as he gives a short bow, "how do you two fare today?"

"We fair ladies fare fairly," Gwen responds with a polite curtsey.

"We are both pleased to be here," I add and give a curtsey of my own.

I do my best to mimic the way Gwen speaks. As far as I know, she sounds just like a proper member of a royal court.

"The pleasure will be everybody's," Sir Wooly says, "now please, follow me to the garden. The snacks have already been put out and I know you are going to adoooore them."

The way he says "adore" also sounds just like how my grandfather does; more "o" than is needed.

Eager to join the others, we hurry around the corner of the castle – where mother's garden box is, the best smelling place in the yard – and behold the magnificent garden of the palace. Colors, bright and bold, fill the space with their reds, oranges, whites, and golds. Happy carnations, beautiful roses, fiery gazania flowers, and lantana flowers of every color I know they come in are in full bloom all around us. Darting between them, like little flying jewels, are flitdragons, easily one of the cutest animals in the whole world. Oh, I wish I could have garden just like this for them.

And in the center of it all, a table has been set out for us. The cloth covering it is embroidered to match the garden so that it looks as though the flower beds have continued right up and onto the table. Food and drink is set upon it; candied fruits, strips of fried dough, clusters of honed nuts, and slices of almond cake are all resting on silver plates. In the center of it all is a large bottle of grape juice, the kind my parents say is for special occasions. But the most important thing at the table, are the others gathered around it.

There is Lady Loom, wearing her favorite dress with over thirty different colored threads woven into it. Sitting next to her is her sister, Lady Shuttle, who has kindly begun to pour out juice for everyone. Across from them are Lord Cashmere and Lady Linen, both talking happily to each other. An empty seat, Sir Wooly's, is at the far end of the table and, waiting patiently for him to return is his squire, who is also his niece, Fleece. The last two empty seats at the table are for Gwen and me.

"Everyone," Sir Wooly announces, "the fair Gwen and Isolde have arrived."

There is a round of greetings from everyone as we take our seats.

"Alas that our dear King Weft and Queen Weave were unable to attend," Sir Wooly says as he plops down next to Fleece, "but running a kingdom takes a lot of time."

"They do send their warmest greetings though," Fleece is quick to add, "and hope they can attend next gathering."

"I would enjoy that," I say.

"Would you like something to eat?" Lord Cashmere asks as he offers me a plate.

"Yes please," I answer as I take one of the fried pastries, "thank you."

Before it even reaches my plate, I take a bite.

"Oh, it's yummy!"

The fried fritters taste just like the ones mother makes for my birthday; hot dough and melted honey.

"Would you like something as well?" he asks Gwen.

"Oh, yes," she responds, "but which one to pick? They all look so good. Maybe all of them, one at a time?"

I nod at her statement but don't say anything. It would be rude to speak with a full mouth. As Gwen picks a little bit of everything, I take another strip of fried dough. I know what I like and I'm going to enjoy it.

Everybody goes around the table taking what snacks they like, drinking from our cups, and having the kind of conversations one would image you would have at a fancy garden party.

"Tell us," Lady Linen says, "is there anything new and exciting in your lives?"

"Perhaps a new dress?" Lady Loom asks.

"Or a new friend?" Fleece adds.

"A new friend?" Lady Shuttle repeats with a sly smile, "perhaps fair Isolde has caught the eyes of a young prince?"

"Hoh-hoh!" Sir Wooly laughs, "that would be quite the development. I hear the Kingdom of Orphrey has a young prince and that he is quite the dancer."

"No," I say as I feel a blush warm my cheeks, "nothing like that."

"No princes," Gwen says, "but something just as exciting. Tell them, Isolde!"

"Today while helping mother in the shop I was able to sew a hem all by myself, no extra help needed."

A round of excited, approving mummers went around the table.

"That's great, Isolde," Fleece says.

"Your parents must be proud," Lord Cashmere adds.

"I know I am," Sir Wooly nods.

"Before you know it," Lady Looms cuts in," you will be making elegant dresses the whole kingdom will envy. You must make me one."

"Does everything have to be about dresses with you?" her sister asks.

Lady Loom shrugs.

"I love them. Let me enjoy what I love, dear sister, and besides, should we not want to support our budding seamstress?"

"I do," Lady Shuttle says with a nod, "and I would be happy with anything she gives me, even if it is not a dress."

"I want to make you all something someday," I say, "but right now I am still learning, and once I do get better, I have already promised Gwen that I would make her something first."

"And I am looking forward to it," Gwen adds, "I know we have talked about new bows for all over."

"Oh a bow would be fun," Sir Wooly chuckles, "perhaps one for my beard? Fleece, don't you think my brother would simply adoooore it if we both tied our beards up in matching bows?"

"I don't know about that, uncle," Fleece answers as she giggles at the thought of her father wearing bows in his equally bushy beard," but I would adore seeing it."

"Then when Gwen's ribbons are done, I will make some ribbons for you and your brother, Sir Wooly," I promise.

"Oh, thank you."

"You are welcome. That is my dream, to make clothing that brings people joy."

For a while, we all relax and eat and drink and talk together, until I hear something – the back door opening – a great banging noise at the gate! I look over my shoulder and behold – Dusty being let outside – a great beast has broken through! Oh, and its coming right towards us!

Everyone at the table springs to their feet at the sight of the impossibly large wolf.

"My sword," Sir Wooly calls, "I must have my sword! Quickly, Fleece, my sword!"

"May I jump in?" Gwen adds, "But, oh, I will need a weapon."

I look around and spot something long and sharp – a pin I forgot to remove from my skirt – an extra blade tucked under the table.

"Gwen," I call out, "I found something!"

I hand her the sword – I carefully slide the pin into her hand.

"Marvelous!" Gwen cheers, "This is exactly what I needed. Thank you!"

I give her an encouraging pat on the back and she leaps gracefully into battle. The giant wolf rushes towards her – Dusty goes over to where she landed and gives her a sniff – and snarls ferociously right in her face!

"It will take more than bad breath to scare me," Gwen challenges, "now come beast, I am ready for you!"

Gwen's movements are like she is dancing. To the wolf's left, then to its right, then behind it she skips, never staying in one spot for more than a few moments. She dodges the beasts fangs, parries its paws, and needles it with quick lunges, - all while being extremely careful not to accidentally poke Dusty. He is being a very good boy, yes he is! He's being so patient as Gwen gently bats his side. – And after a few frantic moments of this, the wolf shows no signs of slowing down.

"Phew," Gwen sigh, "I can keep this up but this is one tenacious beast. A little help would be appreciated. Sir Wooly, have you perhaps found your sword?"

"No, but this will have to do," Sir Wooly answers as he raises a shovel up high, "and at least I have my shield. Oh, and before I charge bravely into battle, Fleece, dear niece, please don't stop looking for my sword. I do still want that."

"Of course uncle."

"Very good," he nodded before lowering his shield before him and turning to face the wolf, "Now, CHAAAARGE!"

As Sir Wooly and Gwen and continue to fight, I look around for a weapon of my own. No other swords appear – I guess I only had the one needle – but I think quickly and spot something that could be just as useful – one of the plant markers from mother's garden, which I will be sure to return – a garden stake with roses around it. Yes, this will do and give that beast a spikey surprise!

"Sorry flowers," I say as I rip up the stake, roots and all, "I will replant you later."

I wave my flowery club through the air like a banner and let out an excited cry of my own.

"I am with you!"

And then I charge fearlessly at the wolf. I ready my heart for the fierce battle ahead and swing the weapon into the wolf's side – tap Dusty's side with the back of my hand that is holding the garden stake – and gasp as a shower of rose petals burst outwards from the impact! Trying my best to mimic Gwen's movements, I spin around on my heels, ready to face the wolf again – but find him on his side?

I kneel down next to Dusty and whisper to him.

"Dusty, no, not belly rubs now."

He only rolls further onto his back, lifts his leg up, and looks at me with his big brown eyes.

"You're supposed to be a ferocious wolf. Belly rubs later, after the wolf has been defeated."

He just keeps looking at me and waging his tail.

"I guess the wolf has been defeated," Gwen says.

"It looks like it."

"Hurrah!" Gwen cheers, "We have done it! Peace has been restored!"

"All we have left to do is capture it so it can't do anymore damage."

I pull out the ribbon that was keeping my hair pulled back while I was working earlier.

"Will this work?" I ask as I hand Gwen a bundle of rope.

"I think it will do splendidly, but there is one problem."

"What is it?"

"It's such an enormously big wolf. I am going to need some help. Will you please help me, Isolde?"

"Of course! This is what best friends are for!"

We each take one end of the rope and get busy. We bind the beast – tie a little bow around Dusty's leg and then give him lots of belly rubs because we can't say no to his big eyes – and let out a sigh of relief as it begins to snore.

"It doesn't matter if we are pinning down fabric or foes," Gwen says as she ties the final knot, "I'll always be by your side, because, it's like you said, that's what best friends are for."

She gives me a most joyful smile.

"However," she says, though her smile does not fade at all. "I suppose there is one more real last thing to do. Where are we going to move this wolf to? It very well can't stay in the garden."

"Hmm,"

Plans begin to form in my mind when a voice interrupts my thoughts.

"Isolde!" it calls, "dinner is almost ready. Time to come inside."

"The king!" Sir Wooly gasps.

"It sounds as though he is calling us all to dinner," Lady Loom adds.

"We wouldn't want to keep him waiting," Gwen says, "are you ready to go?"

"Not yet, I have to do one last quick thing."

With the help of Sir Wooly and his shovel, we quickly replant the roses – return the marker to its spot in the garden – and thank them for their help in fighting the wolf.

"Now I am ready," I say as I return to Gwen's side.

"Then let us be off. Onward to, to whatever wonderful meal they have prepared for us."

"Onward to rabbit stew!"

I turn to Dusty and give him a pat on the side.

"Come on, we need to go inside."

And together, we all venture forth.