There was no doubt this woman was one of the most elegant people she had ever spoken to. Had they been at a party, Ida would've likely faded to the background, too starstruck to ever pick up an exchange. But perhaps something about the intimate modiste setting made finding conversation effortless.
She scarcely blinked at the woman's accent; although different and more refined, it reminded Ida of when her father spoke English. The woman's next words confirmed what Ida suspected, she was Japanese. "Oh, Kyoto," Ida echoed, enchanted by the thought. She'd seen paintings of their mountains in cherry blossom season, and had been curious about it ever since. It was unlikely she'd venture that way outside of Great Britain anytime soon, however. She was concerned that being so close to her father's homeland would give him the perfect means to marry her off right then. He had many more connections there than he did here.
"I'm sure that it will pair wonderfully," she said vaguely, since this was far beyond her area of expertise, but still truthful in how she felt about it. Just then the modiste touched Ida's arm, 'You're done, my dear,' she said, swiftly unpinning Ida's new dress skirt before whisking away. Unlike the other woman, Ida came alone, and so she stepped carefully down from the podium and pulled her dress from the chair to put back on.
"Yes, just for my school debut," Ida replied, busying herself with the snaps of her dress until the modiste rushed back to assist. Back home, Ida would have had her house-elf or little brother help with the last bit. "Though today we spent time looking at inspiration for a full wardrobe to wear in my upcoming season. I had never given much thought to this before, as I'm sure you could tell." She added the last part with a bit of a grin, knowing that the lady could plainly see her belabored process. Ida didn't mind owning up to her weaknesses; only then could she learn something from it.
"Oh, but pardon my manners," Now that she was mostly dressed, Ida turned fully to the woman to offer her a gentle bow of respect. It was the way Ida would greet her cousins or father's business partners, and it only seemed appropriate. "My name is Chang Ai Mei," she introduced herself in the traditional fashion with the family surname first, feeling a little tickle on the back of her neck when she shared her given name. "Though most of my friends call me Ida."
It wasn't every day that one came across another of Asian descent in Great Britain, even during these modern times. She would hate for their acquaintance to be so fleeting. "I am not sure if you planned to stay about Hogsmeade, but I was thinking I'd have afternoon tea here. Perhaps you are inclined to join me?"
She scarcely blinked at the woman's accent; although different and more refined, it reminded Ida of when her father spoke English. The woman's next words confirmed what Ida suspected, she was Japanese. "Oh, Kyoto," Ida echoed, enchanted by the thought. She'd seen paintings of their mountains in cherry blossom season, and had been curious about it ever since. It was unlikely she'd venture that way outside of Great Britain anytime soon, however. She was concerned that being so close to her father's homeland would give him the perfect means to marry her off right then. He had many more connections there than he did here.
"I'm sure that it will pair wonderfully," she said vaguely, since this was far beyond her area of expertise, but still truthful in how she felt about it. Just then the modiste touched Ida's arm, 'You're done, my dear,' she said, swiftly unpinning Ida's new dress skirt before whisking away. Unlike the other woman, Ida came alone, and so she stepped carefully down from the podium and pulled her dress from the chair to put back on.
"Yes, just for my school debut," Ida replied, busying herself with the snaps of her dress until the modiste rushed back to assist. Back home, Ida would have had her house-elf or little brother help with the last bit. "Though today we spent time looking at inspiration for a full wardrobe to wear in my upcoming season. I had never given much thought to this before, as I'm sure you could tell." She added the last part with a bit of a grin, knowing that the lady could plainly see her belabored process. Ida didn't mind owning up to her weaknesses; only then could she learn something from it.
"Oh, but pardon my manners," Now that she was mostly dressed, Ida turned fully to the woman to offer her a gentle bow of respect. It was the way Ida would greet her cousins or father's business partners, and it only seemed appropriate. "My name is Chang Ai Mei," she introduced herself in the traditional fashion with the family surname first, feeling a little tickle on the back of her neck when she shared her given name. "Though most of my friends call me Ida."
It wasn't every day that one came across another of Asian descent in Great Britain, even during these modern times. She would hate for their acquaintance to be so fleeting. "I am not sure if you planned to stay about Hogsmeade, but I was thinking I'd have afternoon tea here. Perhaps you are inclined to join me?"