Author's Note: This chapter isn't very plot-heavy at all.
***
The troop rode through a farming village, then a slightly less agricultural village, and finally a city. It was dark when they were in that city. Finding enough rooms in enough inns and taverns was a rushed and difficult experience. Some groups of soldiers had to make do in the village just outside the city.
The maidens didn't even visit a bathhouse. They had a short meal, washed their hair, and laid down to sleep.
In the morning, Rahela got to dress up as a married Yahsin woman. Until they were in the Imperial Castle, it still wasn't wise for the Emperor to go around advertising precisely who he was. They had to wait a little bit more time than usual because, once again, extra time was made to buy whatever pieces of women's clothing one could find from the local Yahsin women, particularly the wealthier commoners. The Emperor wouldn't have his pretend wife dressing like a serving girl.
The maidens had to quickly alter the clothing, two whole outfits appropriate for autumn. Then Rahela was dressed up. The gown was had reasonably tight sleeves. The dark color was a mixture of gray and green. The side-less surcoat over the gown had thick, horizontal stripes in two tones of red. A pale, earthy tone and a slightly darker, browner tone. The skirt had no seams separating it from the plackard that covered the breastbone and navel. It was all one piece. But that wasn't the shocking part.
Rahela had hips, apparently.
Or rather, her maids-in-waiting seemed to only just then think her hips needed to be complimented. The tight shape, from the shoulders to past the hips, was a silhouette that was very kind to a woman's curves. The concave shape made by the surcoat's plackard begged the eyes to trace along Rahela's body. Her bust wasn't very large at all, but it was high. That fact alone added even more emphasis on her hips.
Rahela had to remind her girls that more was meant to be done.
Wimples and cloth gorgets were a fairly popular option for married women and widows, although widows were more likely to wear them and younger women loved showing off more skin. The hems of these accessories would either be tucked under the dress' neckline or artfully arranged over the neckline, sometimes even draping over the shoulders. Rahela didn't really want to wear these things. She kept her throat and collar bare.
The maids put Rahela's hair into a single, plain braid. Then they wound that braid into a knot just a few inches above the nape. A basic white cap was fitted over her head, hiding her ears, a few small pins keeping it in place. Then, a round veil/headrail was chosen, a circular one of very fine linen. When arranged and discreetly pinned in place, a good portion hung down, hiding most of her back with a curved hem.
Finally, it was time for the headdress.
It was placed on top of Rahela's head. If her hair had been bare, a significant amount of the central parting would be visible. It was shaped like half of a quatrefoil, with the highest point of the highest curve reaching nearly six inches. The fabric was a golden brown color, with white leaves in patchwork. Two white ribbons were tied into a bow in the back, against her veiled head, helping by tying the headdress down. A few more little pins, practically invisible, added more security. The front of the headdress, at the bottom, had a purely decorative festoon of tiny beads, the lowest point reaching a tiny amount past the veil on her brow. They were apparently wooden, smooth, and painted dark blue, nearly black.
Clapping her hands and hopping in place, Oksana excitedly said, "You're a pretty Yahsin wife now!"
That wasn't true at all, but Rahela could feel the intended sentiment.
Yana's eyes glazed over with silly, childish glee as she lightly pulled Rahela's sleeve. "So puh-pretty! A fine lady!"
Shaking her head, Rahela said, "The clothing is fine but you're both wasting the daylight. We must not keep His Majesty waiting over nothing." She patted her waist under the surcoat, where her belt was. She wanted to make sure her favorite items were all hanging where they needed to be. "Gather your things," she said to the girls. "Find your cloaks, and rinse your teeth."
Some time later, in a hallway, the maidens met the Emperor and his squires. Borys was there too. He was grinning already, but when he saw Rahela his mouth opened and he rocked on his feet. The squires were more restrained, but there were twinkles of admiration in their eyes.
The Emperor's bent nose wrinkled and squirmed. Extra lines appeared under his eyes and near his smiling lips. He walked over to Rahela as she gave her bow, the hem of his tunic fluttering around the middle of his calves. Then he pinched some of her veil up and gave the tamest little pull, not even putting strain on her pins. He wasn't touching her maidenly hair, so this action was nowhere near as rude. Rahela bore it without any change in her expression.
Hm. He had a masculine surcoat with a color scheme and pattern that was similar to hers. The openings for the arms were much smaller, though, and the hem was a bit shorter than the tunic underneath.
Had he purchased these surcoats from a couple?
"This veil is so fetching on your pleasing little face. It frames you well." He let the veil go; it quietly drifted down. "But I look forward to seeing your hair again." He moved past her. "Come. There are plenty of diversions awaiting us."
The city was as busy as any other, but Rahela noticed something a little different. Concerning the variety of products available, this city was the grandest she'd seen up to this point in time. This wasn't even the capital! Some shops had nothing but soap, perfumes, oils, and creams. A whole building only for that was interesting, but several? There were several soap stores in the city instead of little market stalls?
The Emperor happily led the group into one. Some of the soaps were so exquisitely carved, so delicately dyed, that they were kept in small containers with tight lids. Why? Those soaps weren't meant to be used! They were only meant to be admired whenever the impulse came.
Soap. As pure art. Not as ... well ... a bathing product.
Rahela was so dumbfounded that she found herself staring down at a soap in a jar that Yana was holding out, the lid in her other hand. It was a very delicate carving of a bagpipe. Two earthy dyes had been used for slightly more realism.
It was so extravagant!!
Soap required so much time and so much labor, even when one was making the simplest, most basic examples. Yet, here in this ordinary city, there were soaps that had been colored and sculpted, adding even more monetary value. There was no evidence of difficulty in the store. Customers came and went, buying at least one product each. The shopkeeper looked healthy and well dressed. Rahela and company even saw a young man come into the store with a large box of more products. He soon began restocking.
In Yahsin, the common man could have a piece of the finest soap in the world.
In her homeland, Rahela wouldn't have ever held something as fine.
It had all seemed more reasonable when she saw Yahsin soap being sent to other territories. It was a fine way to spread the culture, and the peddlers selling soap never seemed to have very much competition. However, in this Yahsin city, there was so much, much more competition, and what seemed to be a higher quality of product overall. It was clear to Rahela that an average Yahsin person could afford at least something with a pleasant color or an interesting texture on one side.
The Emperor's voice took her out of her cloudy thoughts with his conceited tone. "Unless you want it for yourself, Girl, return the bagpipe. My wife should have something with more color, perhaps a fragrance too."
Adjusting her light cloak, Rahela turned her eyes towards the Emperor and said, "My Lord, I need soap for washing and bathing." She'd already used so much of her own soap. "I also need to visit a butcher's shop."
Looking away from a jar of cream that might've been meant for the hands and feet, Oksana lightly asked, "Mistress, are you craving a specific meat?"
"I need a jar of bacon grease," Rahela said as she picked up a simple bar that apparently had ground oatmeal inside.
She heard the Emperor say, "Acceptable. You'll have the largest jar, but choose a fine soap first."
Rahela picked out some pale bars. Then they went off to the nearest butcher's shop. Borys skipped inside. He wanted a little package of dried meats as a snack for later. Rahela asked for the grease she wanted. She might've been able to ask for some staying at a campsite, but most soldiers would use it all up. Rahela had thought they needed the grease more than she did.
Back on the street, the Emperor took her hand and asked, "Will you use the grease to enhance a meal's taste?"
Funny thing, she thought her hand felt different from when this long journey first began. It was as if her hand had been molded like pure gold, made into something that accepted the Emperor's grip quite easily.
Rahela shook her head. "No, My Lord. I use it to soften my hair after a washing."
His fingertips pressed on her knuckles all at once, simultaneous taps. "Is that why you always smell like bacon?" He sounded very pleased with himself, as if he'd only just then figured that out.
"That might be the reason," Rahela plainly admitted. She glanced up at his profile. There was part of a smirk on his face.
Did he think it was funny?
***
There was a festival where the marketplace would normally be arranged. It was related to a lake god. Apparently, there was a lake near the city. While there were still some stalls for selling things, mostly playful items and snacks, most of the space was dedicated to games or worship.
The group stopped by the temple. There was a long line of worshipers wanting to give a tribute to the lake god. The Emperor said they should try giving their own gifts the next morning instead. Later, they walked to the festival. They watched street performers. Then they went over to a stall with a bowling game.
Pulling on Rahela's veil, the Emperor said, "I'm a fine bowler, but I'd love to know what skills you have."