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I haven’t been able to bring myself to reopen the hopes and dreams of my youth, fearful that they will tarnish my current relationship with Merri. But Lord Marius’s words fill me with longing to revisit those sketches penned out in my free time at court.
With a shaky hand, I crack open the oldest book, the spine protesting softly. Age-yellowed pages hold faded ink, but I can still make out each stroke of my youthful ambition. The fluid lines of an envisioned wedding robe for Merri map out a creation that would never touch her skin.
“Is everything to your liking, Lord Marius?” I call out, my voice steady despite the churning emotions inside me.
“Quite comfortable.” The heavy curtain muffles the words. “I’m not sure it needs any modifications. Your measurements were precise.”
“I will be the judge of that.” Closing the sketchbook, I return it to the drawer and rise.
A moment later, Lord Marius emerges.
At first glance, the suit fits his tall form well, and the fabric matches his complexion, as I knew it would.
I collect my tray of pins and measuring tape, as well as a tablet to record the required changes. While I may be precise with my notes, no outfit is perfect the first time.
“Let’s have a look.” I motion for him to stand in front of the mirrors.
With steady hands, I pinch in the seams where needed, pinning them in place until the suit fits him to perfection.
“Ah, I see that you are right.” He shifts from side to side to test the give of the material. “Your talents were wasted as a thug for the court.”
“I quite enjoyed the hunts.” I let the hem of his trouser leg out a fraction. “I miss that while locked up here in my shop.”
“You hunt in a different way now.” He rolls his broad shoulders. “You fight battles with knowledge.”
“It does not bring the same satisfaction as wielding fire.” I slide in a pin and shift to check his other hem.
“There is still time to create a bonding robe for Merripen.” Lord Marius catches my eye in the mirror. “She deserves to be wrapped in splendor.”
I freeze for a moment, the words hanging heavy in the air.
“We aren’t back to that point yet.” I focus on the task at hand. “But I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Will you invite me when the day comes?” His fingers twitch at his side. “I regret not being there for her ceremony with the others.”
The pin I hold hesitates before sliding into place, and a sigh escapes, soft and nearly inaudible. “If it happens, I will send an invitation.”
His shoulders slump with relief for only a breath, and then he straightens them once more. “Thank you, Darius.”
“A High Lord should not offer me thanks.” I sit back on my heels. “Turn.”
He complies, and I continue with the adjustments, the rhythm of pinning grounding me from getting my hopes up.
Silence fills the shop, broken only by the gentle rustle of fabric and the click of pins in my tray.
At last, I step back to admire my handiwork. “Done.”
The suit, a blend of modern and ancient lines, fits him to perfection, accentuating his broad shoulders and trim waist.
“Excellent.” He turns in a slow circle, admiring my creation. “Truly a work of art.”
I walk my tray to the design table. “Change back, and I’ll complete the alterations.”
The curtain rustles as he retreats into the fitting room, leaving me alone once more.
I make notes on the adjustments needed, then busy myself by putting away the pins and measuring tape.
Lord Marius steps out wearing his white robe again. He joins me, the suit cradled in his arms, and sets it with care onto the table. “When will you have it ready?”
