Olive made her excuses as soon as the gown was hemmed properly.  She didn’t think Lylle had a reason to be frightened of Cariun, but she didn’t want the prince to know about her yet.  That would be her secret for now.  So the two women said goodbye and Olive furtively returned to the prince’s manor.  There was still plenty she could do while she waited for the prince to return, after all.  If she was going to play the part of a maid for a little while, then she might as well use her free time to improve her surroundings.

She was relieved to see the body was gone from the yard.  The household guard that Lylle recruited to help had been reluctant to carry out the job, but had said a favor was a favor and vanished to take care of it.  She’d need to do something nice for Lylle, Olive decided, to repay her for cashing in a big favor like that.

For now, she’d focus on making themselves slightly more presentable neighbors.  That was all she could do.

Cariun returned a bit after noon.  She still wasn’t able to locate the sun when she stepped outside, but the shadows, at least, seemed to be following normal patterns.  She could estimate time based on that.  By then, she’d eaten and cleaned herself up so that she looked presentable.  It was a good thing she had, as he wasn’t alone.

“This will be your tailor,” Cariun said casually.  “He’s of little renown, but I believe he will suffice.”

“Wow, rude,” Olive muttered under her breath as the tailor bowed to her.  

Then she smiled as he straightened and gave him a proper greeting.  Cariun told her that he’d already discussed what all needed to be made for a complete wardrobe and that she should escort him to her tower so that he could take measurements.  It took a moment for her to realize that he had every intention of coming with them.  Awkwardly, Olive led both men through the hallways of the manor to her tower.  The tailor surveyed it with keen interest.

“I moved in yesterday,” Olive offered as an excuse for how empty it felt.

The tailor only nodded and opened his kit.  He removed a knotted string and turned to Olive, waiting expectantly.  Cariun prowled around the edges of the room before settling himself on one of the few chairs available.  She wasn’t certain if she wished he would leave or if she was glad he was there.

“I’m sorry,” Olive said, “but I’ve never been fitted before.”

The tailor’s eyebrows raised slightly in surprise, and Olive felt obliged to explain.  She stopped short of saying she bought all her clothing pre-made, as she wasn’t sure she wanted to give away that she was from another world just yet.  Desperately, she sought a convenient excuse, and then it came to her.

“Where I come from, we wear loose dresses,” she said, hastily conjuring an image of a Greek stola to help her describe her lie.  “The only measurement really needed is your height.”

“I see,” the tailor replied thoughtfully.  “Well, I will talk you through the process, then.”

It was probably a good thing Olive was from a more modern world, she thought later, as the tailor wrapped his string around every inch of her body and noted which knot it stopped at.  If she had a stronger sense of modesty she’d be mortified.  He measured her hips, waist, bust, shoulder, arm length, arm length with the elbow bent, leg length, inseam length… at least he was polite and professional, explaining what every measurement would be used for.  She was relieved to hear that pants would be involved.  She wouldn’t be stuck wearing dresses all the time.

To cover for her unease, Olive tried to make small talk.  She wasn’t sure which was worse - the tailor getting a bit more personal with her than she preferred or Cariun glowering from the chair.  She told herself that he was probably trying to intimidate the tailor, but she just wasn’t sure.  It felt like his gaze was burning a hole in her back.  He had reason to be angry with her.  She’d removed the body he left up on the fence as a warning, after all.

“We’re all finished,” the tailor said primly.  “I’ll make the first delivery tomorrow, so the lady has something available.  It won’t be elaborate, but it’ll be suitable at least.”

“Good,” Cariun replied primly, standing from the chair.  “And I trust you’ll be discreet about it?”

“I’ll try,” the tailor said reluctantly, “but I am quite busy and special deliveries take additional resources that I just don’t have, I’m afraid.”

Cariun’s expression darkened.  The tailor went still and silent as the mood in the room shifted.  Olive suppressed the urge to shudder.  It felt like electricity crawling its way up her arms.  Then there was a metallic ring as Cariun drew his sword, deftly bringing it up and placing the tip between the tailor’s collarbones.  The man froze in terror, his eyes wide, his breathing shallow.

“I’m not interested in employing someone whose silence has to be purchased,” Cariun said.  

His tone did not change.  That was the most disturbing part of it all.  His threat was no different than anything else he’d said, from discussion of what needed to be made to how much it would cost.  The prince raised the tip of his sword ever so slightly and the tailor went pale, raising his chin as far as he could as the blade dug into the flesh of his neck.  A thin trickle of blood ran down to stain his white collar like a rose bud.

“O-of course,” the tailor stammered, his eyes fixed on the length of the sword.  “My apologies.  I forgot myself.”

“Indeed you did.”

Cariun whipped the sword away and the tailor flinched at the rapid motion.  But the prince did nothing else to the man.  He only sheathed his sword with practiced ease.

“Perhaps you’ve made such arrangements in the past with other employers,” the prince continued smoothly, “but that is not how I do business.  That is not how you deal with the royal family.  Am I understood?”

“Yes, your highness.  I will, ah, discount the final cost as repayment for my discourtesy.”

“Very good.”  The prince began to walk away.  “If your work is acceptable, sir, I may consider keeping you as the lady’s exclusive tailor.”

Olive hadn’t been raised in a world like this, where no one was trustworthy and threats were carried out at the end of a sword.  However, despite her ignorance, she was quick enough to catch on to what Cariun was implying.  The tailor was the only person Cariun had contacted to outfit Olive.  That meant if any information leaked… Cariun would know exactly who did it.

He was doing this to protect her.  The longer he could keep interest away from her, the more time she had to prepare herself.  Olive took a soft breath, mentally steeling herself.  She would not feel sympathy for the tailor.  He’d throw her to the wolves for a bit of profit.  So when he turned to bid her goodbye, she gave him a soft, welcoming smile.  He returned it weakly.

Perfect.

“Please don’t anger him,” Olive murmured,  “I’ve already had to remove one body from the fence and I just don’t think I’d want to bother doing so a second time.”

And the tailor went pale.  She, too, could get her own threats in.