Second Arc: Eighteenth Chapter

In the Kingdom of Altria, it's considered unseemly for a woman to show her legs. So women never wear trousers, which show the line of the leg. It's the same even for commoner women — skirts, even for farm work.

Personally, I'd dearly love to recommend a trouser style, but the wall of common sense is a very thick one, and I hadn't been able to take that first step. So when I rode, I did it in a skirt, using what's called a sidesaddle — a saddle made for sitting sideways. You hook your forward leg over the horn, a kind of prong at the front of the saddle, and ride like that; until you get used to it, it's rather frightening.

This way of riding is, I think, a higher hurdle than straddling the horse like a man. I suspect it's one of the reasons women aren't very fond of riding — though there's no denying a sidesaddle seat is very ladylike, elegant and lovely.

Facing Madam Zamus, I hesitated a moment. Perhaps this was a time to summon my courage.

"About riding wear for women—"

Perhaps catching my deliberate choice of "riding wear" over "riding dress," Madam Zamus's eyes widened slightly and her gaze sharpened.

"I'd like to bring in a trouser style."

"A trouser style?"

"Trousers, worn like a man's."

"…! Milady!"

Sissi let out something close to a shriek. That was how utterly unthinkable it was, in the Kingdom of Altria, for a woman to wear trousers.

At my words, Madam Zamus made a show of thinking it over deeply.

"…As a woman of business, I can't accept it, zamasu. I don't see it selling."

"I suppose… not."

My shoulders slumped.

"However. As a designer, myself… I find it intriguing, zamasu."

Madam Zamus smirked. In contrast to my brightening face, Sissi went pale and swayed on her feet.

---

We lost all track of time, talking on even after the sun had set and darkness had fallen, and — course-corrected by Sissi every time we threatened to run away with ourselves — we pulled the design together.

According to Madam Zamus, trousers for women wouldn't be accepted overnight. To get there, the important thing was to keep offering alternatives to the skirt, letting the idea seep in little by little.

The first stage would be the culotte skirt. You make the skirt portion as you would for a dress, but cut it deeply, front and back. Beneath it you wear long culottes layered from a thin material — rather like making a Japanese hakama out of silk or organza, I suppose. It hides the line of the leg while allowing freedom of movement. In a dress like this, a woman could straddle a horse and ride just as a man does.

"Let's go with this for the first stage. I'll leave the finer design and shape to you, Madam Zamus. …One for me, and… one for Mother, if you please."

"It is Zamus. Consider it done, zamasu."

Mother is a fashion leader of high society. If Mother — who made even slippers the fashion — took it up, she was sure to set this dress in vogue.

"There'll be measurements to take, so I'll speak to Mother about it myself."

"I make all of Madam Edelweiss's dresses, so her pattern is on file at my shop, zamasu. As long as you tell her by the time we reach the fitting stage, that will do nicely, zamasu."

"Whoa. News to me, zamasu."

So that was how it was! A fashion leader indeed.

Madam Zamus and I exchanged a firm, solid handshake, and so ended the day's meeting. It had been quite a long day, but my heart was light and fluttering with excitement.