The Alcazar (The Cerulean Duology #2) - Amy Ewing Page 0,10
and a champagne-colored shirt of the finest silk made in the traditional style favored by elite Pelagan men: large, billowing sleeves that cinched at the wrists with the front open in a wide V, its point plunging to his breastbone, exposing quite a bit of his chest. A turquoise sash that matched his eyes was tied around his waist.
“They made me buy this,” he said morosely, but before Agnes could ask who they were, he sighed and looked down at himself. “Never in my life would I have thought I’d be wearing the stupid Pelagan clothes Robert and I used to make fun of.”
“Robert was a small-minded idiot,” Agnes said. “And I don’t think you look stupid at all.” He gave her a withering look and she held up her hands. “I’m serious! I mean, it’s different from your usual style, but . . . it honestly sort of works on you.”
“I’m practically naked,” Leo said, tugging at the open V of silk. “Why don’t they button their shirts? Why don’t their shirts even have buttons? These pants are so tight I doubt I’ll be able to sit down. And why do I have to wear heels?”
Agnes couldn’t suppress her laugh. “At least yours aren’t dumb pointy things designed to make you teeter and fall. Those are very sturdy. Very practical.” Before he could protest further, she opened the door. “Now tell me what happened at the market and where we’re going for dinner.”
“Well, everyone was right about my face,” he said, taking a few cautious steps in his new footwear. “The woman who changed money for us didn’t doubt for a second that I was a Byrne. She asked me if Ambrosine had cut off all the passages to the Lost Islands. Our grandmother might be even more powerful than we realized.”
That made Agnes thrilled and queasy all at once. “But even if she’s cut off the passages, surely she would let us through,” she said.
“That’s not all,” Leo said as they started down the narrow corridor back toward the captain’s cabin. “We sort of ran into a princess. The Renalt’s daughter.”
“You ran into a princess? How?”
“Trying to avoid Misarros,” Leo said like it was obvious. “Anyway, she was buying a dress from a woman who turned out to be Eneas’s sister. She’s a big-deal dressmaker in Pelago. She recognized me immediately and helped us pick out all these clothes. She invited us back to her house tonight. So that’s where dinner is.”
“What?” Agnes yelped. “You found Eneas’s sister? What’s she like? Where is her house? Why didn’t you tell me all this right away?”
“Because I knew you would ask a million questions and it would take ages for you to get dressed and then we’d be late. You didn’t see the market, Agnes; it’s heavily patrolled by Misarros. We need to blend in or we’ll end up in jail or worse.”
Agnes’s heart skipped a beat. “But they wouldn’t arrest a Byrne, would they?”
“If Ambrosine has cut off the passages to the Lost Islands, I’m not sure being a Byrne is such a great thing at the moment. Besides, we’re half Kaolin. They’re arresting anyone who they suspect of having anything to do with Kaolins.”
He was right, Agnes knew, and she didn’t like it. They needed to find her grandmother. Once they were under Ambrosine’s protection, they would be safe. She was about to pepper him with a few more queries when the door to the captain’s cabin opened and Leo stopped so abruptly that Agnes crashed into him.
Sera stood in the doorway, her hair tied back in a bun, a smugly grinning Vada behind her, wearing an outfit similar to Agnes’s own but with a dark yellow vest.
“She is looking perfect, just like Phebe said,” Vada declared.
Sera’s lace dress clung to her slender figure, rich purple and patterned with flowers, tulips and violets and marigolds. The sleeves were so long they crept over her hands to encase each finger in lace up to her knuckles. The neck climbed to brush the base of her chin, and around her waist hung a belt of bone white clamshells limned in gold filigree. The dress fell to cover her feet, a long train spreading out behind her. The overall effect was one of wealth and loveliness.
“She looks beautiful,” Agnes said.
“This is the traditional dress worn by an upper-class Pelagan woman who is about to be married,” Vada said. “Princess Rahel was being fitted for one just like it. It’s a brilliant