‘Of course,’ Azam said, quickly regaining his composure. He cleared his throat. ‘Welcome to Bunto’s. How can I help you?’
‘Are you Azam?’ she asked. Azam nodded. ‘I’m Ximena. I need a wedding dress.’
Sonya and Azam shared a shocked glance with one another. Society girls like Ximena went to the big designers in Castletown for their wedding dresses. While the royal tailor was solely for the royals, everyone else from the aristocracy got their gowns made by one of three celebrated designers: Ashanti, Izume, or Philippe.
Ximena must have seen the questions on their expressions because she explained. ‘I ordered a dress from Ashantimonthsago,’ she said. ‘Then, this past weekend, I attended a wedding, and whatdo you know? The bride’s dress was practically the same design as mine. Hers was from Ashanti’s, as well.’ She made an irritated sound, shaking her head. ‘Absolutely unacceptable.’
Sonya was surprised Ashanti would do such a thing.
Azam frowned. ‘But her designs, especially for weddings, are meant to be one of a kind.’
Ximena’s expression darkened. ‘Of course I confronted Ashanti, and she claimed the wedding dressesaresingular, but I cannot wear a wedding dress with even a stitch of similarity a few weeks after the daughter of abaronwears an Ashanti design. It’s embarrassing. My father is amarquess. I am marrying anearl. You must understand.’
‘Of course,’ Azam said.
‘I canceled my contract with Ashanti, and I’ve been to Izume’s and Philippe’s, but both have refused me.’ Ximena looked outraged then, huffing. ‘They claimed there wasn’t enough time, and to rush a wedding gown would only jeopardize their reputations. I have been distraught, as you can imagine. Until I saw someone wearing one of your designs.’
‘How fortuitous,’ Azam said.
Her dark eyes glinted. ‘While it was simple, I could see the mastery in the stitching, and I rather liked the work. It’s why I am here,’ she said. ‘No one will have worn one of your dresses, not in the circles I am in, and so there is no risk of being unoriginal.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘But know that I take a great risk in trusting you with the most important dress I will ever wear. I see potential in you, but there is absolutelynoroom for disappointment.’
‘I—I’d be honored to make the dress for you,’ Azam replied, quickly composing himself. While such a prospect was daunting, and Ximena did not look easily impressed, Sonya knew this could be Azam’s big break. A way for him to reach wealthier clientele.
‘I need something groundbreaking,’ Ximena warned.
‘I can do it,’ Azam replied.
‘Good. I will pay you handsomely,’ she said, naming the price. Azam’s eyes widened; it was the price of twenty dresses. Probably much less than she would have paid at Ashanti’s or Izume’s or Philippe’s, but it was still a very pretty penny. Even Sonya knew that.
‘You can trust me,’ Azam said, voice confident.
‘Here is a quarter in advance,’ Ximena said, and her maid came forward with a bag of money, setting it down on Azam’s desk with a satisfying thud. ‘I will bring the next quarter payment when I come for my trial, and you will receive the remainder once I have my dress.’
Azam nodded. ‘How much time do I have?’
‘My wedding is on the twenty-fourth,’ she said, and Sonya had to stifle a gasp. ‘You have ten days. I’ll be back in a week for my trial.’
16
After having her measurements taken, Ximena left. The moment she was gone, Azam’s excitement seemed to give way to dread as he realized the huge task that lay ahead of him. A week was a tight deadline even for an ordinary dress, but aweddingdress?
‘You can do it,’ she told him, squeezing his arm. ‘I know you can.’
He spent the next two days finishing up all his other orders, and paused all new orders until after the twenty-fourth. He needed to focus fully.
He was in the shop now, sitting at his desk, where he’d been glued for the past six hours. When Sonya had woken up that morning and come down for breakfast, there had already been a plate in the sink.
After she had breakfasted with Kiri and Dania, Sonya had popped into the shop. Azam had been deep in his work, two empty teacups beside him.
Now there were about three more empty cups of tea, provided by Sonya, who didn’t know how else she could help. The door dinged, and Sonya answered it, intercepting a customer at the door.
‘I’m so sorry, but Azam isn’t taking any new orders for a few days,’ she said, voice hushed. ‘Can you please return after the twenty-fourth?’
She felt awful turning customers away but, thankfully, they were all understanding. Azam only had five days before the trial.
He hadn’t bought the fabric yet—he was still piecing through the designs, and she could see that he was overwhelmed and on edge. There were dark rings under his eyes, and his appearance was slovenly, his hair a mess.
He groaned with frustration just as Sonya closed the door behind the retreating customer, and she turned to watch him rip a piece of paper out of his sketchbook, crumpling it up and throwing it across the room. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes.
