Robes fit for a queen

Tiberius Williamson, an Icelander himself, welcomed Hanna and her father cordially as they passed through the door, "We don't get many from the Island here" he said, his words plowing through Hanna's head like a hurricane. "Well, if you see anything you like, be sure to let me know" Tiberius said, after hearing no response from Hanna nor her father. Nothing really stood out to her as the "Perfect Robe" but a plain black set towards the back caught her eye.

They were relatively unassuming robes, with a small bit of thread that was actually dark grey rather than black on the right arm, but it fit well, and had pockets inside, "gott (good)" she said to herself "Vasa eru gagnleg (pockets are useful)". "Reyndar eru þeir! (Indeed they are!)" Tiberius boomed from a few meters behind her. She had entirely forgotten that being an Icelander, he could her her ramblings to herself "Það er dálítið látlaus, en mjög vel, ef þú dont 'hugur ekki. (It's a bit plain, but very handy, if you do not mind that.)" Her father, obviously growing weary of the strange stares that the locals were giving them, hastily bought the robes and exited the store, thanking Tiberius on the way.

"You really ought to practice your English and French on these people who you will never see again" Her father said, walking quickly to the point where Hanna had to jog to keep up. they were behind schedule, and Hanna wanted nothing less than to be late to her first term.