Viren grinned from ear to ear.
"Splendid! Thank you very much for your business," he said, again laughing out of context. His fingers wove crimson thread out of the air, and they formed into a gown. The sleeves, as was Noira's preference, were long enough to touch her knee.
Perhaps her taste in clothing was because she regretted what she had done. It was true, she did miss her homeland. However, now was just not the time to reveal such personal and painful things. The time would come, yes, but it was still too soon.
Viren's fingers moved more slowly and lovingly. When he was at last done, the gown shimmered in the light. It was so dark most would probably mistake it for black. Silver and green edged the V-neckline, swirling in designs that seemed to echo Celtic embroidery. She ran her hands along the silk, her eyes betraying the love and admiration.
She was breathless. It was exquisite. Crimson roses literally bloomed on the silver border.
"It really was not necessary to use silk, Brother. You could have dyed cotton..." she murmured. Her old clothes appeared in a neatly folded pile on the table, replaced by the dress in an instant. "Oh, Viren. It's beautiful."
"Of course it is! I only make beautiful things, you know!" This time, his tone was much softer, and more gentle. "If that's all, I'll go." He shook Lukas's hand again, made a flourishing bow before Adriana, and stood before his younger sister for a few moments.
May all the lucky flowers bloom in your new garden, he telepathically told her, taking her hands in his. She knew that he was talking about the children. She smiled and nodded, much to Viren's surprise. They seem to already have had an effect on you, he mused to himself.
"Fare thee well, my good customers!" Another flourishing bow. And he disappeared in curls and spirals of green thread-magic. Noira sighed. Fancy entrance, fancy exit. Viren never changed.
