Oh My, I Messed Up the Story

Chapter 57: You Look Like You



The rain stopped the following morning and we slipped out of the palace using the tree Al had shown me after lunch once it warmed up a bit.

My mind was clearer than it was last night. I would focus on my mission—comfortable winter clothes—and nothing else.

Since we were jumping a wall, I changed into my least restrictive dress with a 'half corset' very similar to one of my bras back home before we snuck out.

Unfortunately my sportswear of sorts wasn't going to help me with my fear of heights.

"Uh, Al? I think I'm stuck up here," I whimpered as I looked down at him.

It was about a seven foot drop and I was not prepared.

He held his arms out. "You're not stuck. Jump."

"I would rather stay here," I said feebly.

"Sit on the wall and push yourself off. It's not as high as if you're standing."

I squeezed my eyes shut and did as I was told. I hit something solid with a thud and a shooting pain went up my knee.

Al set me down and rubbed his own knee for a minute.

"Sorry!" I squeaked.

"It's fine, I'm the one that told you to jump. Let's go."

He held out his arm, expecting me to link mine through it like I did with Mariela.

At my quizzical look he shrugged and said, "This way I won't lose you in a crowd."

Sure, Al. No matter. It wouldn't be good to get lost out here since I didn't have my own way back into the palace. I followed his lead on the path to town.

Our cloaks hadn't dried completely from the night before so I was wearing a shawl over my braided hair and Al was wearing a cap and servant's clothes so we wouldn't be recognized.

"What is it you want to buy exactly?" he asked as we passed various high-end boutiques.

"Soft, comfortable winter clothes."

I could tell he had questions but he wisely let me lead him into my clothing shop of choice. I looked around. Homespun shirt samples hung on the walls. That was promising.

A sweet-looking old woman sat behind the counter. She was wearing a sweater! They existed in this world!

"What can I do for you dears?" she asked kindly.

"May I feel your sweater?" I blurted.

My aunt gave me a horribly itchy sweater before and that was the last thing I wanted.

She seemed a bit surprised but let me. I heaved a sigh of relief when I found that it was soft.

The old woman smiled. "Do you like it? My granddaughter's husband is a traveling merchant. He found some very nice wool yarn in Rowenhilde a while back."

"It's wonderful," I said fervently. "Do you sell them?"

"I do. They take a while to make though so I've been working on some all year. I'm not sure I have any that are small enough for you. The ones I have would better fit your companion here."

Al held up his hand with the ornately carved wedding band on it.

"Husband. I'm her husband."

I shot him a dirty look for interrupting which he ignored. "I don't mind! Can I see them?"

"Certainly."

She pulled out five sweaters in various colors: beige, dark brown, royal blue, black, and red.

They looked big and comfy, just like the oversized ones I used to buy on purpose so I could hide my hands in the sleeves when I got cold and wear over my leggings.

My eyes shone with delight. "I'll take all of them."

"Are you sure? I could try and make something your size. With my granddaughter's help it would only take a few weeks."

I was about to say that wasn't necessary when Al spoke up.

"Can you make two? Pink and light blue."

"Yes, but it will take longer."

"That will be fine; she has these to tide her over."

The old woman gestured for me to come behind the counter so she could take my measurements.

That was when I took the opportunity to ask her if it was possible to make fleecy pajama pants out the kind of material used in my bathrobe that could be cinched with a ribbon. She said it was possible but she would have to order the materials and it would be pricey.

I didn't care about the cost. I would pay ANYTHING to have a few pairs of normal pajamas again.

I also tried some simple floor-length skirts made of warm, thick fabric. The flimsy but beautiful dresses they gave me at the palace were neither comfortable nor practical with the coming winter.

They needed to be altered a bit but pedal-powered sewing machines existed in this world and they were able to adjust the skirts to my size while we were still there.

We left the shop with my bundle of new giant sweaters, skirts, and some tightly knit warm socks, promising to come back for the other orders in a few weeks.

I didn't mind wearing skirts during the day as long as my legs were warmly covered and didn't have a skirt riding up in the middle of the night.

"Is that all you wanted to do?" Al asked as he carried my bags for me.

I shook my head.

"I'm done with this hair. I won't cut it too short—the middle of my back should still be long enough for the maids to work with for now."

If I was going to be comfortable, I may as well go all the way.

He didn't say anything as we walked into the barber shop but after my hair was cut and braided back he quietly said that it looked nice that way.

I smiled at him. This was the most I'd felt like me since coming to this world.

I may not be able to take Mariela's advice completely but I acknowledged that I needed to learn how to live in this world, my way. I was here and had to make the best of it.

When we got home, I swapped out the top part of my two-piece tan dress set with the giant white sweater and put my hair back in a ponytail tied with a ribbon, opting to wear my new thick maroon socks rather than stockings.

The sweater was baggy enough that I didn't need to wear the half corset. Finally, I could relax!

I sighed blissfully as I leaned against the back of the couch.

"Looks like I've spotted the rare Katie-bird in her natural habitat," Al teased before growing more serious. "You seem really happy."

"I am really happy. I'm finally comfortable!"

"Right…you mentioned that you hated the fashion in the capital before. So this is what you like to wear?"

Yep. All I was missing was yoga pants. With any luck, I could find a seamstress willing to make something similar for me at some point.

I refused to live my entire life in nothing but skirts once I escaped the palace.

"It's warm, soft, and easy to move in," I explained.

"I'm surprised Countess du Pont ever let you wear anything like this. It's plain but it suits you."

"Uh, thanks?" I couldn't tell if that was a compliment or an insult.

"I meant it as a compliment! You look nice. I mean, you look nice in everything you wear but—" the poor guy knew he had walked into a trap so I cut him off before he panicked.

"It's fine. I know what you mean. Thanks, Al."

"You really do look nice though. You look like…you, if that makes any sense at all."

My smile grew wider. So he noticed too.

"It makes perfect sense to me."


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