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I leaned back as if suddenly remembering something, and nodded. "Ah. Sorry, Zanac. Was I too loud? Really, I'm just excited to be back, there's so many new interesting developments. Viscount Sordrick sends his regards, by the way."

"Kuh. That is the proper response. Show respect to the owner of the establishment as you would be a guest in someone's home!" The n.o.ble lady held a thumb up to her lips and bit at her nails in frustration. "Even if you intend to buy, the owner has no obligation to allow you to stay – it is their right to refuse a sale…"

Then she pointed at me "But are you ignoring me?!"

I walked in, not even paying her any attention. I whipped out the silver-alloy medal and asked "Hey, Zanac! Look what I have now!"

Zanac blinked his small, childlike eyes. "Is… is that the Duke of Ortlinde's symbol? You are a privileged person to the House of Ortlinde?!"

"Yep. So all those things we talked about before? We can now completely sidestep all lesser functionaries."

"Ah… excuse me, but… may I know your name, gentleman adventurer?"

"… Hm?"

And now that lady from before was sidling closer, slightly leaning forward to give me a good view of the low-cut bodice typical of their seemingly 17th to early 18th century fas.h.i.+ons. I dimly recalled this was why Puritan fas.h.i.+on was so insistent on covering up as a reactionary measure to immoral consumption. There were sumptuary laws(ʰᵗᵗᵖˢ://ʷᵒᵐᵉⁿᶦⁿᵉᵘʳᵒᵖᵉᵃⁿʰᶦˢᵗᵒʳʸ.ʷᵒʳᵈᵖʳᵉˢˢ.ᶜᵒᵐ/²⁰¹⁴/⁰³/²⁷/ˢᵘᵐᵖᵗᵘᵃʳʸ⁻ˡᵃʷˢ⁻ᶠᵃˢʰᶦᵒⁿ⁻ᶠᵒʳ⁻ʷᵒᵐᵉⁿ⁻ᶦⁿ⁻ᵗʰᵉ⁻ᵉᵃʳˡʸ⁻ᵐᵒᵈᵉʳⁿ⁻ᵖᵉʳᶦᵒᵈ/) that forbid commoners from dressing up in a way that imitated the appearance (and thus being mistaken for) aristocrats.

While it was odd to me how oddly anachronistic were the cuts of some regular clothes, what with vests and neckties and such, here n.o.bles were apparently not only okay with but were apparently expected to have most of their b.r.e.a.s.t.s just hanging out dangerously close to scandalous slippage. Which was, I supposed, historically accurate as well.

(ʰᵗᵗᵖ://ʷʷʷ.ᵉᵏᵈᵘⁿᶜᵃⁿ.ᶜᵒᵐ/²⁰¹²/⁰³/ⁿᵃᵘᵍʰᵗʸ⁻ˢᶦᵈᵉ⁻ᵒᶠ⁻¹⁸ᵗʰ⁻ᶜᵉⁿᵗᵘʳʸ⁻ᶠʳᵉⁿᶜʰ.ʰᵗᵐˡ)

And for me, completely unappealing. I tilted my head only enough to acknowledge her existence. "You have good taste, madam. I will ask Zanac to reserve that dress for you. But for now… please leave. Mister Zanac and I have sensitive matters to discuss."

What made it more disturbing was that her face was made up to look like a doll with round bright red circular lipstick and a heavy blush on her cheeks. Deep dark eyeliner highlighted her otherwise uninteresting muddy brown eyes. She did not have drill hair or princess curls, but her dirty blonde hair was pulled tight into a bun secured by a wing-shaped headdress. Her voice too was pitched a little too high, then would drop an octave in anger.

"What-?! You dare drive me away from my… no. Adventurer! I refuse! Tell me your name that I might show you the proper wages to your insolence!"

"You knowing my name or me remembering your name could possibly be… disadvantageous… to you. Whoever you are you should not look for my attention when discharging the duties of my appointment."

She glared at me and grit her teeth. "I… I am the daughter of the House of Zenovivie, you do not scare me…!"

I turned away from her and towards Zanac again.

She balled her fists and clutched at her hooped skirt as if to do a curtsy or maybe lift it up for a high kick. Zanac began shaking his head wildly from side to side, his eyes wide with fear.

"Tch!" she hissed again. "This is not the end of this! You will regret it!" She subtly pulled up on her long gown exposing her heels, and skedaddled forthwith. The girls quickly moved aside to let her through.

Zanac sighed and palmed his face. "Sir Playa, was that really necessary?"

"Completely," I answered.

He stared doubtfully at my flat expression, and sighed. "But that was… no, I guess I'll just have to make it up for her later. What brings you so… energetically… to my door, Sir Playa? It couldn't just be the fulfillment of your mission, though I thank you for that too."

I answered in a much more cheerful tone "Look what else I've got!" I turned aside and Elze approached, slamming down the tubes she was carrying. "Armor cloth! Dye-safe enchanted armor cloth!"

Zanac's eyebrows lifted, impressed. "Those sound expensive. I'm interested, but…" he shook his head, "I'm sorry to say that I don't actually work with armor cloth. I'm afraid I can't buy them."

"I'm not here to sell them, I'm here to ask you to use them to make our suits."

"Ah! Well that makes more sense!" He slid forward and began to stroke at the bolts of cloth in an almost sensual manner. "Fascinating… most fascinating. Still somewhat rough, but I didn't expect mithril weave to be like this. Will this fabric leave permanently bent folds? When you asked me for clothes that could be used in combat, I was presuming you meant clothes made of dirt and tearing resistant materials, not actually armor-quality cloth."

Then he turned his attention to the other bolt of cloth. "And this one is more of a metallic fabric than metal strands. It's like the fibers were infused with the metal. Interesting."

Then he looked up at me and shook his head sadly. "Unfortunately, I still do not work well with armor. You should go for an actual armorer for this. My abilities lie mainly in working with fas.h.i.+on… in clothing without obvious utility. Armor is too obvious in having utility."

I tilted my head to the side. "Why… would that even matter? You are Zanac, the FAs.h.i.+ON KING. I'm sure you know how to make things fas.h.i.+onable with your own judgment."

"But I don't know how to make-… wait." He paused and looked up at me. His thin yellow eyebrows furrowed. "What did you just say?"

"You… know fas.h.i.+on? I mean, you know better than any armorer what would make someone look good. Most people would just buy finished suits, but that's why I bought bolts of armor cloth instead."

Zanac looked up at me. Then his face all scrunched up and his eyes began to water. "You trust me that much?"

"Ah…"

Zanac began to cry. "I had to work hard to make my personal ability have a use... and you just say it's irrelevant!"

I began to panic. "Aaaaah. Sorry! Sorry! I didn't mean to offend you! I was just hoping it would be a cool project. If you don't have time, that's fine too!"

Zanac hugged me by the waist and began to cry into my s.h.i.+rt. Zanac, I would remind you, was a short person even shorter than most women.

What heck. Why. Elze. Linze. Help meee.

They just giggled in response.

"Sir Playa!" Zanac looked up and declared proudly, "I may not be an armorer, but you understand… fas.h.i.+on is what we make of it! With only my own skills, my own experience, this is possible. You saw that, didn't you?"

-

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And so we were paid one gold (7 silver + 3 bonus) for our mission. And then we ended up paying Zanac two gold (20 silver) each for our new combat outfits, with another two gold on completion. That was all labor costs, because the cloths themselves cost a platinum each (100 silver). Which really led me to remember that Zanac had vastly overpaid me on our first meeting for my clothes.

We all stared at the exchange, and laughed. He tried to give back half of the downpayment.

"Zanac… we're kinda friends, right?" I said as I refused.

"Y-yes!" the clothier responded eagerly. "I am honored to be considered your friend, Sir Zah!"

"So it's a matter of respect for your own time and expertise. It doesn't matter if it's a thing you enjoy or if we're going to have fun brainstorming or getting the girls to dress up, it's still valuable work hours we're spending."

Elze still looked unconvinced. "We're not damsels that need to be protected, you know. We're capable of paying for our own stuff."

"Well of course. But the thought would not normally occur to buy armor cloth instead of a finished outfit. What the clothes will look like in the end is completely your decision."

"Sis… there are advantages to this," Linze said softly. "There was actually something I wanted to ask Mister Zanac about this anyway. Not… um, armor clothes. Just regular clothes."

Elze sighed and turned to Yae. "I guess I'm outnumbered. But what about you? What do you think about all this frippery?"

Yae shrugged minutely. "I am… fine… with what I have right now. However, having clothes that resist tearing or stabbing, I must admit to some interest in such things, that I am."

I grinned at Elze a bit. "Oh we are so going to have fun playing dress-up with you. It's completely fine to want to wear regular dresses, you know?"

"S-shut up! It's not like that! I'm… I'm the sensible one! I am!"

For as Zanac and I had discussed before, the concept of a fas.h.i.+on show or a fas.h.i.+on magazine did not actually exist just yet. What's sensible but gorgeous clothing for adventurers? Branding was important! There was a wild untapped market out for people with poor spending tempers, large amounts of pride and independent feeling, and disposable income!

Zanac and I grinned and slapped our palms together in a strong comradely handshake.

-

-

We exited Zanac's FAs.h.i.+ON KING ZANAC to see the n.o.ble lady from before waiting for us by the curb. A tall thin servant held up an umbrella while another shorter fatter one fanned her with an ostritch-feather fan to beat the mid-afternoon heat.

Also there with her were four burly guards right in front of the door in between us and her. They had broad square jaws, even broader shoulders, and surprisingly hefted billy clubs instead of guardsman's swords. The wore bronzed breastplates for protection, the metal etched with an insignia of a wolf in front of a gate.

"Finally! To make me wait, your rudeness really knows no bounds!"

I opened my arms out in bewilderment. "… What even is this? You were waiting all this time preparing to beat us up and I'm the one who's rude?"

"YOU ARE A FAAAAKEEE!" she yelled and pointed at me with a slim red manicured finger.

/"… Well she's not wrong,"/ Monika said impishly.

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