Page 67 of Dragon Cursed
"I am not."
"You are."
"I am about to be very, very glad to have my feet on solid ground."
"Mmm.About that."Poppy's voice had gone careful."We are going to need to talk about your clothes."
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His clothes?
He looked down at himself.
His clothing was suitable for any activity.Clean.Warm.Serviceable for a journey.
He hadn’t given them further thought.
"What about my clothes?"
"My love."
"Yes?"
"You are dressed," Poppy said, very gently, "like a man who is about to be cast as a sad knight in a regional theater's production ofMacbeth."
"I am not."
"Alsander."
"What is wrong with my clothes?"
"They are three hundred years out of fashion."
"Iam three hundred years out of fashion."
"Which is why we are going to fix the clothes."
She pulled into a small leafy square.The houses around it were tall and narrow and made of red brick, with bright doors and iron railings and small tidy gardens behind the railings.Poppy parked Margery against the curb under a tree and turned in her seat.
"Okay.So.Auntie Niamh's house is on the next street.We’re going to walk there.We can’t walk there with you dressed like that.We need to keep a low profile.People willstare.I don’t want people staring.I want us to walk up to that green door and ring the bell like ordinary people."
"We are not ordinary people."
"We arepretendingto be ordinary people.Until further notice."
"Fair."
"So.You're going to do that thing.The thing you did when you took us out of the lair.The thing where you change your clothes with magic."
"Yes."
"You need to copy someone with more modern style."
He raised an eyebrow.He’d always been very well dressed as a matter of pride.
"Someone —" Poppy paused.She was looking past his shoulder out the window."Someonediscreet."
"Define discreet."
