Kaliya strolled along Market Row, the hem of her
red dress brushed against the ground with every step, dirtied from the mud earlier that day. Young women were gathered in small knots about the various stalls and shops, giggling to each other and cooing over the ribbons and lace and trinkets, discussing hair and dresses as the merchants tried vainly to flag their attention long enough to part them from a few coppers.
She paused, picked up a piece of lace and examined it thoughtfully. Like all noble girls, she had been taught to sew and embroider, she could make simple needle lace, and spin thread. Kaliya preferred to use the cut and colour of her dresses to make a statement, rather than embroidery and embellishment. Her current dress was a fine example, crossed golden ribbons providing the structure around a plunging neckline and revealing open panels.
The young woman pursed her full lips, put the lace down again and continued on.