When Patricia and Jasmine arrived at the seamstress's, they were immediately ushered into a private room for the fitting. As Jasmine's superior, Patricia was fitted first. When Patricia emerged from behind the privacy screen she had used to change, Jasmine applauded.
"Lovely, Mistress! You look like a noblewoman!"
"You truly think so?" Patricia asked. She admired her reflection in the room's floor length mirror.
"Yes, Mistress, I truly do," Jasmine said firmly. She told the truth. Patricia's beauty and demeanor gave the air of someone more than mere peasant stock. Whether this was just who she was, or due to Patricia's witch stock heritage, Jasmine knew not.
Patricia's gown needed no alterations, and so she was allowed to bring it home. Now, it was Jasmine's turn. Jasmine went behind the privacy screen to change. To her delight, there was a brassiere for her, as well as the gown. After over a month as a woman, Jasmine was familiar with dressing herself, and needed no assistance. As she had hoped, the brassiere provided much needed support for her breasts. For the first time since she transformed, her breasts did not ache. The fabric, she rubbed between her fingers, treasuring the feel. It had been so long since she wore something other than coarse gowns.
Jasmine emerged from behind the screen. Patricia and the seamstress gasped.
"You are most lovely, nurse," the seamstress remarked. "You have a noble bearing."
"...Thank you," Jasmine mumbled. She inspected her reflection in the mirror. Though the brassiere supported her breasts, it also pushed them up, making her bust seem even larger. The slight bustle of the skirt also accentuated her already generous rear and hips perfectly designed to birth children. Despite these curves, however, she was petite everywhere else. In particular, she had a flat stomach and tiny waist. Her small size fit her well, as she was short, even for a woman. Her dark hair had come loose from its braid and now framed her perfectly shaped face, bringing out her large, gray eyes and perfectly plump, rosy lips. Her noble features shone, even after a month as a peasant.
In short, Jasmine was the kind of woman Prince Jasper would have been thrilled to have as a concubine in his harem.
"I see the brassiere fits you well," the seamstress remarked, inspecting Jasmine. "But I will have to let the bust out some more, as well as take in the waist. Your proportions are unlike any I've seen before, girl."
The seamstress made her marks and instructed Jasmine to return in two days. Jasmine murmured her understanding and agreement. As she and Patricia left the seamstress's, all Jasmine could think of was how she'd looked in that gown.
The Countess would have no trouble finding her a suitor.