"No, no, it's okay," Emily responds, trying not to sniffle.

"It's probably polyester. Uh. Stretchy, cheap, colorful thread made from refined oil."

Concordia nods.

"Polyester. Okay. Well, even if it's cheap, it looks high class, since it's purple," she observes.

Emily either giggles or hiccups, it's a bit hard to tell which.

"I think you should maybe not meet the price in a purple sparkly leotard," she says. "Maybe we can find you a nice dress."

They make their way through the store, Emily acquiring a pile of "maybes" to take to the changing rooms.

The store is three stories tall, and filled with people. Most of them are speaking English, but Emily also hears snatches of Mandarin, Spanish, Tagalog, and Italian. Imperial easily blends in with the swirl of languages. The pair goes this way and that, up and down escalators, and eventually find some options for clothes which would fit within their budget.

They pick out several different good options for Concordia: a pair of elegant dresses (one with one shoulder strap, the other with two), a skirt-and-stockings outfit that's a bit less formal but still decently serious, and provides better freedom of movement, and a surprisingly well-fitting women's tuxedo, courtesy of the clearance rack. 

The options for Emily are decidedly lacklustre. Most of the clothes in her size are quite childish in one way or another. She quickly narrows it down to a button-down shirt and pants, and a cardigan that would go well with a plain shirt and leggings.

Emily bites her lip, trying to decide whether it's worth it to get more than one additional outfit each. They don't exactly have much money.

But ... the clothes are pretty cheap. She eventually settles on the one-strap dress and women's tuxedo for Concordia, on the basis that she doesn't know whether this romance story is trying to subvert traditional gender roles or not. She assumes that Concordia should probably go in the dress, but if the prince turns out to also be in a dress, she can have her wear the tuxedo later. Also, putting the jacket on over the dress will help for walking around, because Canada is still cold.

For herself, she gets the button-down shirt and pants; they're not too different from what she normally wears, but are hopefully formal enough.

She also sees if they can find a cheap backpack to carry things in.

Concordia — who knows nothing about Earthly fashion — goes along with Emily's choices without complaint. Although she does play with the zippers on things a bit.

The clerk scans the clothes, punching a few buttons on the register for the clearance on the tuxedo. The cash register bleeps. "Ninety-seven dollars twenty-six. How will you be paying?" He speaks directly to Concordia -- she is, after all, the older of the two.

Concordia rolls her eyes.

"I don't speak your barbarian language," she says, gesturing at Emily.

Emily winces a little at the price, and at Concordia's rudeness.

"Cash, sir," she says, carefully counting out bills from her pocket.

The clerk looks a little funny at Emily, but doesn't say anything. She might be the weirdest patron he's seen today, but only because the store's been open for less than an hour. He makes change, handing her a toonie and three quarters, along with a receipt. The girls now have thirty-two dollars and seventy-five cents to their name.

Emily puts the change in her pocket, their purchases in the backpack, and drags Concordia off to the public pool to shower.

"Look — I know nobody can understand you, but you can't just call people barbarians," she chastises her. "It's not polite."

Concordia looks at her in confusion.

"But they are, though? They're not subjects of the empire, so they're barbarians."

Emily taps her fingers against each other, figuring out how to say it.

"... and if you only used the word 'barbarian' to mean 'not subjects of the empire', that would be fine," she settles on. "But when you use the same word as an insult, then the word is insulting."

Concordia looks away, gazing out over the unfamiliar buildings.

"Yeah, okay," she acquiesces after a moment. "You're right."

Emily lets out a sigh.

"Good. Great. Okay — so we're going to be meeting a Prince later, and you should probably be able to at least greet him, even if I need to translate. But I don't know exactly what level of formality to expect—"

They spend the rest of the walk to the pool going over basic English greetings. Concordia doesn't have much of a head for languages — but then again, neither does Emily. Languages seem to have her more than she has them.

A bored-looking teenager, probably just out of high school, is sitting at a table at the reception. A sign behind him indicates swimming rules.

14+: CAN SWIM ALONE
10-13: MUST BE ACCOMPANIED BY A GUARDIAN OVER 16. MUST PASS SWIM TEST TO ENTER DEEP END.
6-9: MUST BE IN ARM'S LENGTH OF A GUARDIAN OVER 16
0-5: MUST BE IN ARM'S LENGTH OF A GUARDIAN OVER 16. MUST WEAR LIFE JACKET AT ALL TIMES.

He looks up as the girls approach. "Hey, welcome to the pool." One hand goes towards a box of paper wristbands as he speaks. "How old are you?"

... did she ever ask Concordia her age? Shoot. Uh. And she's terrible at telling how old people are. Well, she's old enough to star in a vampire romance book, so she's at least 16, and probably 18.

"I'm nearly eleven," she informs him.

She turns to Concordia. "How old are you?"

Concordia blinks.

"I'm 16. Why do you ask? Do you have to be a certain age to shower?"

Emily is preemptively disapproving of the age gap between Concordia and the prince. Unless he's a young prince. Maybe he's 16 as well, but that doesn't seem super likely for a vampire.

"No, it's because he wants to mark us by age for the lifeguards," she explains.

"And she's 16," she finishes, turning back to the attendant.

The lifeguard gives them coloured wristbands and waves them in. There's a men's and women's changeroom, as well as a family changeroom. There aren't many people at the pool in the morning. There are soap dispensers near the showers, and a door to a sauna between the shower section and the pool.

Great!

Emily will show Concordia how to use the showers. They're not that different from the ones in the empire, actually, although the controls are mechanical instead of magic-reactive.

The girls change out of their dirty clothes and clean themselves thoroughly. Emily drinks some water from the shower because she has been dehydrated and the water is right there.

Once they've showered and dried off, they change into their fancy clothes for lack of anything else to wear, and repack stuff in their backpack.

"Now we can go get our other clothes cleaned, or maybe we can try to figure out how to get to the castle," Emily explains as they walk back out.

By the time they make it outside, the city is fully awake. The streets are packed with cars, the sidewalks full of people. The sounds of a Canadian city are different from the Imperial variety -- more horns, fewer merchants, no hoofbeats -- but the hustle and bustle is nigh-indistinguishable.

One tower of the castle peeks over the skyline. Emily knows there's a laundromat nearby.