Page 73 of For the Strange and Surprising

“I haven’t received anything but the dresses.” I shake my head. “Rinya told me the guards’ uniform should have had something under it, too. I don’t have that clothing, Isolde. And while I’m grateful for the things you’ve given me, I really need the undergarments.”

Isolde narrows her eyes for a second, her mind whirling through details only she’s privy to. Then she continues talking.

“Why pants?”

“A few reasons.” I frown, trying to think of a reason other than preferring them. “The tighter clothing wouldn’t snag or rip when I’m in the forest. They offer more coverage, and they’re comfortable.”

“Let’s make some,” she offers, opening the door in front of us. “I made my own clothing when I was on Earth, and I didn’t stop when I got to Spiran. Dresses are simple to create, but pants sound challenging.”

I want to call this a craft room, though it’s plain to see that it’s reserved exclusively for clothing. She pulls me to the center and begins taking measurements of my waist and the outside of my legs. I decide to bring up another subject, hoping I can get the best of both worlds.

“Have you ever thought about adding pockets to your dresses?”

“No.” Isolde tilts her head. “They would ruin the design.”

“Not if you tuck them into the seams.”

She glances at me, the added challenge brightening her amber irises. “Show me.”

I mock sliding my hands into pockets, pointing to the side seams. “If you put them here, they’re hidden inside the dress. No one will see them unless you have too many things in them.”

“What would you put in your pockets?” she wonders.

“Whatever you want. I think I want to start collecting rocks, so that’s what I would put in them.”

Isolde cackles, clutching at her chest. “How have those silly boys been? Still courting you around under the guise of protection?”

Does she not know about the stalker? Why wouldn’t they tell her? The questions give me a headache, though I don’t ask them aloud. Keeping things from her feels wrong, but I want to talk to the guys before I worry her with something trivial.

“They’ve decided to take turns,” I inform her with thick sarcasm, making her smile. “I’ve been with Ecaeris today.”

“What should we make pants with, Ada?” She turns to me, eyes wide. “And what will you wear with them?”

“Can we turn the dresses into two pieces?”

Isolde opens a series of cabinet doors. They brim with fabrics in a rainbow of colors, and the possibilities captivate me.

“A skirt and a bodice?” she questions, tapping her chin as she runs her fingers across our choices.

“Yeah. Then they’re interchangeable, and I can wear them with pants too.” I shrug. “You know, mix and match?”

“Oh! I know what to do,” she sings. “I’m so excited. We should get busy.”

Isolde doesn’t wait for me to come to my senses. She pulls several spools of fabric out and lays them on her table. She’s practically vibrating with energy as she begins showing me how to sew, taking me step-by-step through the process.

This is one of her true joys in life. It’s written all over her face.

Once I’ve got a decent understanding of hand sewing, she instructs me to make something. It’s a daunting request, but I finally decide to start small. I awkwardly measure myself. Since I’m not wearing any underwear, I don’t ask Isolde for help.

I crudely sketch a few bra and panty designs, chuckling at her confusion. I’m making what I know, and that’s Earth-style undergarments. I want to make a bathing suit, too. I can’t trust myself to be naked around Connak anymore, but I do want to go swimming at the lake again. Coverage is a necessary evil.

We spend hours sewing. Isolde corrects my stitching, and I walk her through the evolution of pant wear. We giggle when I show her my creations.

She finishes her first pair of pants, so I try them on using the bathing suit top I made as a shirt… Because priorities. I need something to swim in, not another bra.

“How do they feel?” she prods.

“Perfect.”