After a half hour of fussing, the elderly woman, who introduced herself as Masselle, finally settled on some colors and fabrics. She brought one to the back room for almost ten minutes while I waited patiently on a bench, legs swinging in the air. Apparently, though elves were a touch smaller than humans on average, that still left me short.
When the door creaked open again, I looked up with a yawn. She returned with a dress draped over her forearm. It was a deep crimson color with a shimmering, glossy sheen. She took a long ribbon of my hair and held it up against the fabric. The color was a little lighter than my hair.
"You really had this color?" I asked, gingerly reaching out and fingering the fabric. It was feathery light and soft, molding to my fingers like satin. "I haven't seen any dresses this red."
She flashed me a toothy grin. "I have every color, my Lady. Would you like to try it on?"
