Alice frowned and shook her head. "I know dresses, but weapons I do not." The tailor admitted, her fingers plucking absently at a piece of paper and pen. The ink swirling ab9ut the page as a dress, most likely for a funeral, took form. It's long draping skirt, the sleeves that hugged the arms of the figure, and the high neck. But here and there were small details. Bits of false gems and jewels to give a bit of life in a time of woe. Black lace and ribbons gave texture without taking from the tragedy. "I do not see how that-" Her eyes burned crimson in utter rage for such was the tailor's delight in clothing and care for it. "Aleera- could hide one without me noticing. Her dress was rather... spentacular." A sour note underline just what Alice thought of the dress. A beautiful creation, though one she could out do, that outshines her own cheaply bought and quickly made work. Which then had been stained by the horrid woman.