Everyday Life With Guardsmares
Chapter 83
Previous Chapter Next ChapterArtemis Sparkshower
Artemis was feeling a little under-dressed. Which was not a common feeling for her; not when she was trotting around with forty pounds of polished bronze armor hanging on her back! But there in the 'Bridle Path Clothiers,' among the elegantly-dressed salescolts in their neat suit jackets adorned with crisp shirts and ties, starched cuffs and collars, and ornately-folded and flared pocket squares, the pegasus felt a bit oppressed by the quiet, formal luxury of it all. While they silently glided around the store on flat leather-soled shoes that somehow barely made a creak in the floorboards, the best Artemis could manage, no matter how much she tried to make herself inconspicuous -- or at least, less conspicuous -- was still a thunderous clatter of plate and jingle of mail. It was like trying to tip-hoof around a library!
Most of the staff were colts, but there were a couple of mares as well -- and what they were wearing… It reminded Artemis of the kinds of dresses Lily and Purity wore out on the town, all high up in the dock and low down on the shoulder. Snug in the barrel, too, with a stretchiness to the fabric that seemed to make even the act of breathing something sinuous and... provocative.
But these mares weren't going out to dance indecently with random colts in a dark and smoky night-club! They were just standing like posed dolls at a podium outside the entrance to this brightly-lit coltswear shop. And how they fawned over every new customer -- 'Welcome to the Bridle Path!', they said, with broad smiles and little shakes of their manes or wiggles of their tails. Still, though, the customer-colts coming in seemed to appreciate the reception. The mares who sometimes accompanied them, perhaps less so.
Artemis supposed she had to count herself in that group. And that was a bit ironic, because from what Honour and Lily had made clear to her, the usual role for a bodyguard was to serve as 'eye candy' for their VIP, just as those mares at the front were there to give this store in Canterlot's fashionable Poole Street district a little more 'street presence' ahead of the Grand Galloping Gala.
Artemis didn't doubt that several of the nicer dress shops Lily had visited with her on Sunday probably had the same setup going on in reverse. A few colts of assorted sizes and tempers, wearing clothing perhaps a half-size too small, serving as receptionists in front of oodles of salesmares dressed up to show off the store's finest fashions. The mere thought of such a gaggle of overbearing, tightly-cropped stallions was enough to make the pegasus feel a bit flushed underneath her gorget.
But what really got up Artemis’ bascinet-helm was how poorly everypony around here seemed to be treating the Gala itself! It was as if it wasn't a revered holiday, a Canterlot-specific celebration of the vernal equinox which also marked the founding of Equestria's capital. Instead, they seemed to be treating it as a commercial fashion expo!
Well, Artemis supposed it was Canterlot. This is where Equestrian high fashion came from.
And, now that she thought about it, she’d bet probably every major social event around here was treated as a kind of ‘flaunt-your-money’ pageant. If she was really honest with herself, that's how a lot of ponies treated the equivalent 'First Fruit Festival' back in Berry. The wealthier Berry ponies would try to catch a ride into Canterlot a month or two ahead of time to grab themselves a new outfit -- or at least see what styles were hanging on the ponnequins in the store windows. As for the ones who merely liked to pretend they were rich, they had to make do with just trying to gussy up their old threads.
‘Oh, hailstorms, the one-upponeship that went on before, during, and after Berry's F.F.F.!’
Artemis sighed, and her armor clattered on her shoulders. Neither the commercial exploitation of the Gala nor the seasonal pretentiousness of her hometown's inhabitants were the thing that was actually upsetting the armored scout. She couldn't even claim to be uncomfortable anymore for standing out; in the time since the Royal Engineer had arrived, a few other colts had walked into the store, accompanied with armored guardsmares of their own. Though, of course, Artemis still had half again as much bronze on herself as they had between the two of them. But, at least there was a bit more ambient noise to mask her thunderous motions.
No, her current frustrations could be boiled down to just one particular colt. Not the Royal Engineer, of course -- he was standing on a small podium in front of a set of mirrors, while one of the shop's unicorn tailors made some final adjustments to his suit, pinning back the trouser-legs and cuffs for the finishing hems. The salespony waiting on her VIP gave a thin-lipped smile as he waited for the needle-worker to finish their business.
"And I hope that sir is satisfied with the appearance of his suit so far?"
Anonymous nodded. "Oh, certainly, certainly. I think you've done an excellent job of capturing my intentions." The Royal Engineer glanced over in Artemis’ direction. "What do you think, Specialist? Fancy enough for the Gala?"
‘Now there's a flash-flood of a question!’
How would she know?
She’d never been!
And Lily previously derided her idea of what exactly constituted 'fashionable' dress...
It sure was a shock to find out that puffed sleeves were wholly unsuited to Canterlot.
Thinking back to the outfits Artemis had seen other ponies trying on so far, she tried to make a snap judgement. "Er... Uh... Well, sir, it certainly seems to be in the right class..." Narrowing her eyes, she scanned her VIP up and down. "...But shouldn't you have something for your lapel? A flower boutonnière?"
He glanced down at his collar, then nodded. "You're right, I should. And after I specified a stem-holder, too." Smirking, he bobbed his head sideways before looking back at the salespony. "And I suppose that's something I should see a florist about now, because otherwise they'll all certainly be sold-out on the day-of?"
The salespony nodded. "It would certainly be advisable to make arrangements for a fresh-cut arrangement ahead of time, sir. As the Gala is fundamentally a festival of the spring, sir, I note that corsages are considered almost mandatory for mares."
‘Finally, somepony gets it!’
‘The Gala is a festival of flowers and fruit and everything else that comes along with spring!‘
"But for the gentlecolts, I may note that lapel pins are also considered quite appropriately fashionable."
‘No, no, no!’
"I might suggest several fine jewellers capable of supplying jewellery to sir's taste, such as for example The House of Cards." The salespony trailed off, but her VIP looked interested in hearing more -- so there was no time to lose!
"No!"
Artemis’ sudden outburst garnered her more attention than the clattering of her armor ever did. "... I mean, no, sir. It's important that you wear a flower -- a real one."
Both the salescolt and the Royal Engineer looked at the pegasus with one eyebrow raised, waiting to hear her explanation. She swallowed and took a second to make sure she had the right words to speak -- and that she had them in the right order, too.
"Sir, the Gala is a festival celebrating not just the renewed life and new growth brought on by spring, but the rebirth of Equestria as a whole after the tragic sundering of the Twin Crowns a thousand years ago. Canterlot Palace itself is a memorial to that awful event -- and its gardens in particular..."
It felt strange telling these kinds of legends in a coltswear store, but there was no getting around it; her VIP had to hear them!
"...They say that Princess Celestia planted a rosebush for every pony who was lost when the Castle of the Two Sisters fell. Since the first Gala, guests have worn flowers to remember." Turning her head left and right, Artemis beheld the racks of expensive clothing, fancy materials, and luxurious accessories on display. “If you care about the real meaning behind the event, then you should honor tradition and wear a flower boutonnière."
After a tense moment where she was left breathlessly waiting for a response, Anonymous finally nodded his head. "All right, Specialist Sparkshower, I'll do as you ask." Shaking his wrists at his hips and shuffling his feet to feel out the suit, he smiled at his reflection in the mirror, then glanced down at the salescolt. "What do I know, after all? I'm still a stranger here."
With good humor, the salescolt brushed over Artemis’ emotional outburst. "Sir's attendant speaks of legend, but is correct as to tradition. Tulips are the preferred flower for this occasion. If sir is interested in additional ornamentation, then a decorative lapel vase may be used as an accent as well."
‘A lapel vase?’
‘Gosh, there are levels of fanciness I didn't realize were even possible.‘
Anonymous laughed. "Hah, the best of both worlds; I like it. I'll speak to my florist about the idea."
The salescolt courteously nodded in agreement, as Artemis breathed a sigh of relief.
‘Hurricane dodged.’
With the tailor having finished with measurements, the Royal Engineer headed off to one of the private rooms to change back into his ordinary dress, and Artemis was left alone with her thoughts for a moment. Her VIP really was a perfect gentlecolt, just as Honour had reassured her after that unpleasant misunderstanding when he’d taken her to The Sardinia Theatre. She barely stifled a shudder when she thought of just how miserable she’d felt the moment Glamerspear loudly proclaimed that she’d somehow sold her body by accepting his invitation.
To say nothing of how the debacle put her own home-front problems in focus, too.
‘Oh, thundershowers!’
What was Artemis going to do about her Huckleberry Pudding? It was almost a week ago she’d told him about the Gala ticket waiting for him in Canterlot -- yet still nothing. And she knew that the Canterlot-Berry mail route only took a single day. She specifically checked up on that before accepting her VIP posting! She wasn’t about to be shipped off somewhere with a two-week delay in correspondence to her coltfriend, not if she could help it! But that just meant he must have received the letter and hadn't yet figured out how to respond to it.
Artemis sighed again. Didn't he know how important this was to her?
When else would she ever have the chance to dance the Maypole at The Grand Galloping Gala?
Not that she was denigrating the First Fruit Festival or anything!
...Well, maybe she was, a little bit.
Still, though, what an opportunity!
How could any pony possibly permit passing it up?
But the pegasus knew exactly what kind of pony could, and his name started with 'Huck' and ended with 'LeBerry' -- that is, if he were a Prench 'Poulenet de Terre.' He was stubborn, and set in his ways, and even though there was a world of possibilities open to him, he still kept his blinders on. Artemis knew now, just as she’d already known when she penned the letter that, if he even wrote back, it would only be to say 'no.'
She’d just lied to herself and pretended the answer might actually be 'yes.'
Suddenly, Artemis found herself sniffling back tears, and she had to bring up one forehoof to wipe them away.
‘Sleet and hail, it isn’t fair!’
Or… Maybe it was her who wasn't being fair. For putting her Puddin' on the spot like that. Forcing him to spell out his reasons for doing something she already knew he wasn't going to do.
‘I shouldn't have pushed him like that.‘
‘Shouldn't have sent him the letter.‘
It was her own selfishness, her own maybe-foolish desire to experience the magic of Canterlot's Grand Gala. Maybe Artemis didn't deserve it, after all.
The Royal Engineer stepped back out of the change-room and hoofed -- handed, rather -- the folded-up, incomplete suit to the tailor, pausing only for a moment to adjust his jacket.
‘Hmmm…’
Maybe there was a way she could have what she wanted, without pressuring her Puddin,' or dishonoring either of them...
Maybe...
Suggested interlude music: Jennifer Rush - 'The Power of Love' [1984]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b_zHQ6kFuQ0
