"Such narrow hips. How am I supposed to work with this?" the middle-aged woman grumbled, throwing her arms up in the air.
Caroline exhaled a disgruntled breath as Lucy, the seamstress Marcaius had enlisted to dress her, huffed into the corner of Ender's bed chamber to sort through a pile of fabrics. Ender looked up from the book he was perusing in one of the armchairs to give her a small smile. Caroline wrapped her arms around herself as she stood in only her shift, waiting for the woman to return.
Caroline felt anything but reassured by Ender's smile. They had been at this for hours, and she had stood still as Lucy poked and prodded and forced her to turn in circles at the woman's command so long that Caroline was now sweaty and disheveled.
