Catt peered into the closet. It contained three big wooden trunks, stacked one on top of the other. They took up almost the whole width of the closet. In the space above the highest one was a rod for hanging clothes, but it was empty.
"Coat hangers disagree with me," explained Ms Bethen, gently touching a prong of her antlers with one hand.
Catt hefted one of the trunks out of the closet and onto the floor. Ms Bethen opened the latch.
In Catt's imagination, she had anticipated a musty-smelling jumble of old faded things, but instead the lid lifted to reveal perfectly folded garments in bright and vivid colors. The air suddenly smelled like lavender and snow.
"I was your size when I was younger," said Ms Bethen. "I think most of these will fit you."
Catt picked up a red and purple dress from the top, and sniffed it deeply. "How do these smell so good?"
Ms Bethen chuckled, "Back in those days, my dear, I could afford to buy enchanted perfumes that would keep things fresh. It was a good investment for theater work. You can get quite sweaty on the stage, with no chance for washing between shows."
Catt unfolded the dress and held it up to herself. "It's really not my style though," she said, and began to re-fold it, conscious that she was not doing a very good job of it.
Ms Bethen took it from Catt and placed it on the table. "Don't worry," she said, "We'll find you something you can wear to dine with your friend."
For a while they sorted through the chest, Ms Bethen sometimes relating stories that the dresses reminded her of.
"These are beautiful," Catt said, "but I don't like wearing dresses, I like trousers. What if I have to climb? What if I have to sprint?"
"At a romantic dinner? Sprinting?"
Catt shrugged.
"Tell me, dearie, what were you wearing the first time this friend of yours ever saw you?"
Catt looked down at herself. "I was dressed like this... mostly. I also had my coat and my sword."
Ms Bethen nodded and scratched her chin. "I've never seen you with a sword, dearie."
"I sold it," Catt lied quickly.
"Very well, a new approach then. Let us get out that other trunk."
Once the second trunk had been removed from the closet, it was opened to reveal a considerably more eclectic mix of garments. Like the contents of the other trunk, they smelled wonderful, but these defied being neatly folded. There were more unusual designs and a mixture of mundane and exotic materials. A few stage props that were not garments at all were mixed in.
Catt lifted what appeared to be a small ornate sleeveless white shirt. "What is this?" she asked, examining the bottom edge which was irregularly frayed.
"That's the bodice half of a dress. It was for a fairy bride part that I played. I cut off the skirt part and re-used it on another dress. I don't think I still have that one. I kept the bodice because I liked the lace-work so much."
Catt clutched the bodice to her chest. "Wait, are you saying you made some of these yourself?"
"I made nearly all of them myself!" said Ms Bethen with pride. "Acting is hardly my only talent!"
Catt continued to cling to the bodice. She wanted it. With its floral lace and complicated neckline and artfully asymmetrical shoulders it was every bit as beautiful as any of the dresses in the first trunk, but it was also obviously and dramatically not a dress.
"I could just wear this with my own trousers…" suggested Catt.
Ms Bethen shook her head firmly. "No you can't, dearie." But then she smiled. "However, I think I know just the thing."
Ms Bethen went to the third trunk, and opened it where it sat on the floor of the closet.
The contents of this trunk had many blacks and grays, but still a few bright splashes of color as well.
She lifted up a pair of black trousers with shining metallic parts, and showed it to Catt.
"What is that?" Catt asked, intrigued.
"I made this for my late husband. They are intended to look like greaves. He was playing the lead in an adaptation of the Seventh Brigand Warlord, and the theater had plenty of stage armor, but all of it was too unwieldy, and he couldn't dance in it."
Catt tried to imagine what a dancing warlord would have looked like. "I wish I could have seen that," she said.
"Try them on, dearie," suggested Ms Bethen. "There is a mirror in the other room."