the pouch on Sir Gills's belt clinks merrily with their winnings from the second round of the joust. it's the most coin they've had at their disposal--which is to say, any--in recent memory, and suddenly the responsibility of it weighs as heavily as any burden. they need to spend it wisely.
they need an outfit for the masquerade.
market street is lively and colorful and perhaps a bit noisier than Gills is yet accustomed to. there are so many vendors and things for sale, it's almost overwhelming. fresh fruit from the orchards, fragrant and juicy-looking. heavenly-smelling bread and pastries. beautifully-fletched arrows. jewelry fit for a queen or for a mighty dragon's hoard. (they do, briefly, double back to the stall selling pastries and buy a honey cake so tender and moist it practically dissolves on their tongue, and bursting with such spice and sweetness that they almost have to stifle a moan.)
all right, they think, licking the last of the crumbs from their fingers. focus.
the tailor is easy to find, brightly-dyed garments waving in the gentle summer breeze like flags. Gills pours over the selection, suddenly feeling more overwhelmed than ever. there are just... so many things. they pick a few more-or-less at random to look at more closely. a dark red tunic embroidered with silver, that's always in fashion. or a fitted pale-blue shirt with ivory buttons--clean and daring, but does it really suit them?
they sigh, returning both of them to the table. next to them, a well-dressed passer-by is pausing to examine the outfits on display, and Gills watches them for a moment, hoping for inspiration.
@fruityprinceling !
