Chapter 2876: Guard Dragoons

From the corner of his eye, Schneider caught a young major entering the shop. The man had a face almost pretty enough to be a woman's, but he wore a standard army buzz cut and stood with impeccable posture. His service uniform had been taken in to fit him like a glove. On his sleeve patch was a horse's head crossed with a musket and saber, an insignia Schneider had never seen on army uniforms. Below, he wore riding breeches and tall boots—and spurs. Good heavens—wouldn't his feet swelter?

The man's dress sword was not the standard army officer's sword, but another type Schneider had never seen. The ornamentation was extraordinarily refined—likely also the work of No. 82.

Though Schneider did not recognize the man, the newcomer's bearing and expression, the custom uniform and sword, all indicated a Senator. In his years of service, Schneider had met or seen at least one or two hundred Senators, yet this one was completely unfamiliar. These Senators were like coins in a conjurer's pocket—every so often one turned up that you had never seen before.

The newcomer seemed unaccustomed to being the center of attention, especially in a shop where several colleagues had gathered. A faint blush rose on his pale cheeks.

"Chief Yang, what a rare visitor." Shen Wanshu had already stepped forward to greet him. Her smile and demeanor carried a few more degrees of familiarity and precisely calibrated respect than she had shown Schneider, with none of the occasional allure she had shown earlier. "Just back from Jeju Island? The journey must have been tiring. Chief Wei and Chief Dongmen were just talking about you."

The newcomer was Senator Yang Ning, commander of the Jeju Island Cavalry Training Squadron. As the Senate's only cavalry combat unit commander and instructor, he spent most of his time on Jeju Island with Nick, the horse maniac. So whenever anyone got close to him, they caught a whiff of perfume. This was "Hay," one of a series of fragrances specially formulated by Dr. Zhong for No. 82, designed to mask the accumulated scent of years around horses.

Yang Ning nodded somewhat shyly, his voice soft but clear. "Manager Shen. Yes, just reported in. I'd heard that here... one could have different uniforms made?" His gaze had already been drawn to the displayed army field-grade uniform, especially the woolen fabric gleaming with a warm luster under the lights and the exquisite metal components.

Before Shen Wanshu could answer, Wei Aiwen had swaggered over and clapped Yang Ning on the shoulder—the force making the slighter-built Yang Ning sway slightly. "Little Yang, you finally made it! Let me tell you—this place is a rip-off! A real rip-off! One outfit will strip you of half a year's allowance!" He complained even as his face radiated satisfaction, clearly delighted with the riding-pose standard-cut uniform he had just ordered. "But you get what you pay for! Look at this material, this tailoring... far better than those flashy classical gewgaws you're always obsessing over!" His words still dismissed Yang Ning's Napoleonic-era aesthetic tastes.

Dongmen Chuiyu also set down his magnifying glass and came over, his manner far more measured: "Comrade Yang Ning, your timing is perfect. The General Staff's continental strategy seminar this time has cavalry mobility and shock tactics as a key component—your professional input is essential. Since you're here, you might as well look at the craftsmanship. Some of the detailing is indeed more suited to individual needs than standard-issue equipment." His words acknowledged the work at hand while giving Yang Ning a perfectly reasonable excuse to spend money.

Shen Wanshu chimed in at the right moment, guiding Yang Ning toward the army uniform display cabinet. "Chief Yang, please look—this is one of the custom services we offer to field-grade officers. The woolen fabric can be selected from finer English-produced material. Buttons, shoulder boards, collar insignia, and even ribbon bar clasps can all be refined and... given a certain degree of artistic treatment, within regulations, to better suit your personal character and bearing." She deftly avoided the word "ornate," substituting "artistic."

Yang Ning's eyes were fixed on the uniform, especially the crisp cut and the obviously specially-treated shoulder and waist lines. He imagined how such a suit, paired with gleaming riding boots and a saber, would look on horseback—certainly closer to his vision of a true cavalry officer than the cookie-cutter standard uniform. But it still fell short. Even done up perfectly, this uniform would be, at best, circa 1914 cavalry. A hundred years short of the true cavalry in his mind's eye.

"I'd like to have a personal uniform made... I mean, a dress uniform..." Yang Ning began. "I wonder if..."

"It would be our honor," Shen Wanshu nodded. "We can accommodate Senators' personal uniforms as well. As long as you can provide the relevant style images, our master tailors will do their utmost to reproduce the effect. What style are you inclined toward?"

Custom uniforms were routine business for No. 82. Though ancient and modern tailoring techniques were entirely different systems, once the Senators had taught everything they knew, within a few years the naturalized-citizen tailors' skills had surpassed those of the Senators themselves. They had become the "Red Gang tailors" of the new era. Many Senators had personal uniforms custom-made here according to their preferences. Wei Aiwen frequently availed himself of this service. His wardrobe collection was exceedingly rich—the only regret being that the Senate's dye industry couldn't produce authentic field gray, so they had to make do with an approximation.

"What I'd like to commission is a cavalry officer's service uniform, and also... a more formal one, something like... a dress uniform for parades or important occasions." Yang Ning's voice rose slightly with anticipation, the flush not yet faded from his face, but his eyes brightened. "The dress uniform could reference... um, Na... the elements of... Guard cavalry..." He glanced nervously at Wei Aiwen after speaking, apparently fearing that this Germanophile colleague would mock him again.

Wei Aiwen did indeed click his tongue, seeming about to say something, but was stopped by a look from Dongmen Chuiyu.

Shen Wanshu's smile remained unchanged, as if she hadn't heard Wei Aiwen's muttering: "Of course, Chief Yang. We have albums of classical military uniforms here. You may select your preferred style from the albums. Naturally, it would be even better if you bring your own design drawings. If you wish to add or remove elements or modify colors, you may specify your requirements in detail. Our master tailors will help you calibrate the modifications to bring out your character."

She signaled the clerk to fetch the master tailor and measuring tools, then made a "please" gesture to Yang Ning. "Chief, before we begin, we need to take your detailed measurements. Especially for the cavalry dress uniform you've requested—given the movements of riding and wielding a sword, the measurements and ease for shoulders, back, arms, waist, and legs must be even more precise than Chief Wei's riding-pose measurement just now. This way, please—"

Yang Ning took a deep breath. Under Wei Aiwen's teasing "watch your wallet" gaze and Dongmen Chuiyu's encouraging smile, he followed Shen Wanshu and the master tailor, who carried a measuring tape and recording board, toward the shop's more private fitting room. There, a dream battle dress would be born—one that fused the twilight of empire with the new order of the Senate, unique to Cavalry Major Yang Ning. And he knew that the price of this dream, as Wei Aiwen had warned, would be black indeed.

After the measurements were taken, Senator Yang was shown alone into the fitting room. The room was not large. On the far wall were three full-length mirrors side by side. In the center stood a teak lectern. The walls, paneled entirely in teak, were fitted with bookshelves holding thick albums of clothing patterns and fabric samples, drawn on heavy paper and bound into volumes.

Shen Wanshu had someone take down a pattern album from the shelf, place it on the lectern, and open it for Yang Ning's perusal. He leaned forward curiously and found page after page of cavalry uniforms from various European armies, spanning the late eighteenth century through the end of the Napoleonic Wars. Though the country names had been omitted, the labels were perfectly clear: dragoons, hussars, lancers, cuirassiers... all manner of cavalrymen, leaping and charging on horseback, fiercely martial—apparently copied from professional reference books.

For a Napoleonic War enthusiast like Yang Ning, even without country names, he could identify which nation and branch each cavalryman roughly belonged to. Suppressing his mild excitement, he raised a slightly trembling finger toward the album. "You can make all of these?"

"Yes, all of them can be made. Though exact reproduction of colors and some accessories is difficult. An eight- or nine-tenths resemblance is no problem." Shen Wanshu beamed.

Yang Ning already had his target in mind. He flipped rapidly through the pages and soon found what he was looking for: the dark green coat with white lapels, shoulder straps, and an elaborate helmet with long black horsehair—the uniform of Napoleon's First Empire Guard Dragoons.

"This is the style, but I'd like to modify the color scheme and some details."

He then stated his requirements. The tailor noted them one by one and produced several fabrics and accessories for his selection. Once all choices were settled, Shen Wanshu and the tailor conferred briefly, then quoted a price and delivery date.

Yang Ning hesitated briefly. The price was black indeed—compared to this, the hundred-plus-note army service uniform from before was child's play.

Perhaps sensing his hesitation, Shen Wanshu promptly explained: "... As you know, all the accessories here must be custom-made, the woolen fabric requires special dyeing, and the helmet must be specially ordered from the armaments factory..."

"Fine!" Yang Ning nodded. "It's settled!"

"Excellent. We'll arrange it immediately."

Wei Aiwen, bored from waiting, asked casually: "Dongmen, the General Staff isn't seriously going to field cuirassiers, are you?"

"Hard to say. Cuirassiers—you can't say they're useless, that's certainly wrong. At least in the present era, they're absolutely an effective cavalry force. The main issue is equipment and horses." Dongmen Chuiyu's reply was cautious. "Cavalry development, though, is something we need to reach a conclusion on this time."

"Over the years, front and back, we've accumulated five or six years' worth of horses. We may not be able to field cuirassiers, but at the very least, give me some light cavalry..."