“Yes, miss.”
She went back to dusting, and I slowly started drawing again, filling in the details on the coat. But as I did, doubts plagued me. The design was different. Too different. Tilda was right. I was designing for the Fashion House now, and my coat didn’t fit the Fashion House style at all. Tilda’s words replayed in my head. Not the ones from now but the ones from earlier.
The first challenge is always the most amusing. To me, anyway. Girls always try to go too big and do something impressive. They hardly ever succeed, and the results are simply hilarious.
Everyone already thought I was ridiculous. The last thing I needed to do was prove them right by designing something completely outside the Fashion House canon.
“Ready?” Sophie flipped her sketchbook closed.
“Ready?”
“Our sketching time is up. We need to meet Francesco on the Fabric Floor to get our materials.”
She got up, tucking her sketchbook under her arm. I picked up my sketchbook, too, and followed her out of our chamber. There wasn’t time to draw a new sketch, but I couldn’t use the nude-and-black one. Somehow, I’d have to come up with another one in my head by the time we got to the Fabric Floor. I tried to think, but my thoughts were as scattered as a child’s blocks across the floor. A plethora of silhouettes ran through my mind. Instead of flowing over me in a warm fog, they came with sharp flashes and blinking lights. Desperately, I willed them to turn into one look I could use but, as hard as I tried, I couldn’t pull one out of the chaos.
Luckily, the Fabric Floor was down in the basement of the Fashion House—it gave me more time to think. To plan.
“Are you all right, Emmaline?” Kitty asked as we gathered outside the Fabric Floor doors. “You look stressed.”
“I am.” I forced myself to smile at her. “Just trying to figure out my design.”
“Don’t worry. Trust yourself.”
I smiled a real smile. Everyone treated me coolly or with disdain. Everyone except Kitty, whose sweetness reached me through my distress.
“You’re so kind, Kitty. Everyone else is so”—I lowered my voice so only she could hear me—“intense.”
Especially now. No one chatted or even smiled. The other girls looked like soldiers readying for attack, their sketchbooks and pencils reminding me of shields and swords. Ky had wrestled her way to the spot closest to the Fabric Floor door, the epaulets on her wide-shouldered gown flashing. Cordelia came next to her, but Ky refused to give up any space.
Kitty watched them elbowing each other and quietly replied, “My family was titled, long before I was born, but we lost the title. I grew up seeing my parents look down on everyone else, even though we aren’t any different. They were always nice but in a horribly fake way. I promised myself I wouldn’t be like them. I promised myself I’d follow the rules.” She sighed. “All they want is for me to win the Fashion House Interview—they’ll do anything to move up in society.”
I’d thought everyone else in the Fashion House Interview had charmed lives. They were wealthy, after all, and established enough to be invited to the competition. But Kitty’s story about her disgraced and desperate family didn’t fit my assumptions.
“Ladies, welcome.” Francesco stood in front of the double doors leading to the Fabric Floor. “You will have twenty minutes to get any fabric, buttons, appliques, or trims. No need to worry about thread—we will provide you with the appropriate colors for your designs in the sewing room. Since this challenge includes feathers, we’ve brought in several options. You’ll find them at the back of the Fabric Floor. There are carts that you can use to collect your items.”
He turned to grasp the two knobs, pausing for dramaticemphasis. After a few beats, he flung the doors open wide and stepped aside.
For a moment, I was nearly swept away by the room. It seemed to go on forever in every direction. Rows and rows of towering shelves displayed bolts of fabric. Signs were affixed to the shelves, denoting the types of textiles. I grasped the handles of a cart and walked forward, taking in the hundreds of colors, patterns, and prints, my imagination set afire by the countless options.
The other contestants rushed past me, pushing their carts, jolting me into action. Fabric. I needed to get fabric, even if I wasn’t sure what my design was. And trim and buttons. And, oh God, feathers, too.
I spotted the sign for wool and headed there first. My eyes landed on a sumptuous navy wool with a slight herringbone pattern running through it. But, just as I reached for it, someone slipped between me and it and snatched the entire bolt off the shelf. Cordelia. She stuck it into her cart.
“I was going to use that!” I protested.
“So sorry,” she smirked. “Maybe go to the burlap aisle? I think that would be a better fit for you.”
The urge to snatch the bolt out of Cordelia’s cart rushed over me, but there wasn’t time to get into a fight with another contestant. I turned away from her, so angry that I could barely see straight. Almost blindly, I yanked a bolt of navy off the shelf. It didn’t have any print, but its texture was soft and the Fashion House always used clean, classic fabrics.
Feathers. I needed to get those next.
As Francesco said, they were at the back of the Fabric Floor. Bins displayed everything from luxurious peacock plumes to tiny swallow feathers. Ky and Alice were already elbow-deep in the bins. Their quick motions sent feathers tumbling up into the air, where they spun and drifted back down to the floor.
“Get the black crow feathers,” Ky snapped to Alice. “I’m sure Sophie will want to use those.”
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one they were trying to trip up.
“Ten minutes, ladies,” Francesco’s voice echoed through the basement. Normally, I would’ve politely waited to start digging in the bin of gray feathers that Alice was pawing through. But, in my short time in the Fashion House Interview, I’d learned. I elbowed my way next to her and grabbed some of the feathers.
