‘I don’t—’
She didn’t know what to do, nor did she know how to articulate this. She felt embarrassed.
Azam made a strangled sound, then pulled away. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, dragging his gaze back to hers with some difficulty. Then he looked away.
She didn’t know what he was apologizing for. Disappointment ran through her, her body aching. Did he think she meant to say that she didn’t want to?
But shedidwant to! She desperately wanted to.
But Azam was no longer looking at her, and the moment had passed. Perhaps it was for the best. He was already so stressed with Ximena’s dress, and she didn’t want to complicate things further.
They swam back and sat on the shore, just watching the waves, the sun warm on their skin. It was peaceful, serene.
‘This has always been one of my favorite spots, but now especially so,’ he said, looking out at the glittering waters of the lake, the flowing waterfall.
Then, with a gasp, he sat up. His face was alight, his brown eyes wide. ‘I’ve got it!’
17
When they returned from the lake, Azam spent the rest of the day sketching, working in a frenzy. The next day, he was up early and went to Castletown. He didn’t return until lunch, with his arms full of fabric and lace. He must have spent a good amount—if not all—of the advance there.
He spent two full days working on the dress and doing little else. Sonya helped by keeping Dania busy and bringing Azam many cups of chai and scones. She reminded him to sleep and eat and rest and tried to get him to take breaks, but she couldn’t help in any other way. She wasn’t a stitch-witch, but she recalled how he had said kindness was its own kind of magic, and she was hoping that it was true.
Before they knew it, their week was up, and it was the day of the trial fitting.
Ximena arrived early, dressed in traveling clothes. Sonya spotted a very large carriage outside the window, watching as Ximena and her maid walked to the front door. Azam fidgeted, nervous, and Sonya gave him a reassuring smile.
‘Everything will be fine,’ she said. He gave her a tight smile, running a hand through his hair. Then, the door dinged and Ximena entered. Her maid was carrying a shoebox and a bag, while Ximena held her hands together in front of her.
‘Good morning,’ Ximena said.
‘Good morning,’ Azam replied. He was anxious and trying not to show it; Sonya could only tell because she knew him so well, but Ximena didn’t seem to notice.
‘My fate is in your hands,’ Ximena said, tone warning. ‘I pray you do not disappoint.’
Azam gave her a smile. ‘I hope not.’ He pulled out his sketchbook, showing her the finalized sketch.
Ximena’s brows rose. She inspected it for some time as Sonya held her breath. ‘Lovely,’ she finally said, the single word clipped. ‘Now, the dress?’
‘Of course,’ Azam said, gesturing to Sonya, who led Ximena and her maid behind the changing screen. Once she was out of sight, Azam ran his hands over his face, shaking his head. Sonya squeezed his arm as she walked past to retrieve the dress from the hanger, carefully bringing it back to Ximena behind the changing screen.
Ximena was standing in her undergarments and corset, waiting. Sonya brought the dress and delicately placed it down for Ximena to step into. Once she had, Sonya lifted the dress, raising a sleeve for each arm. Then, she laced up the back, every movement slow and steady.
Azam had been working tirelessly. She did not wish to accidentally tear anything.
‘My shoes,’ Ximena said to her maid, and her maid brought the shoebox. She opened it to reveal a gorgeous pair of heeled white slippers, placing them onto Ximena’s feet while Sonya held her hand to keep her steady. They gave Ximena a few inches of height and allowed the dress to fall even better.
Sonya stepped out to where Azam was waiting anxiously, pressing his lower lip between his index finger and thumb. She went to stand beside him, bumping his shoulder with hers.
‘It’s going to be alright,’ she whispered. Her hand brushed against his at their sides, and he clasped her hand in his, fingers entwined as Ximena stepped out.
Her maid held the fabric up as Ximena stepped onto the platform in front of the mirrors. She was deadly silent.
Terrible thoughts ran through Sonya’s mind. She felt Azam’s grip on her hand tighten as the same must have gone through his.
‘Of course, it isn’t finished,’ Azam said, walking up to the platform. ‘And I will adjust the sizing, and the length, and I still need to add the lace, and—’
Ximena turned around. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she said. Her eyes shone with tears. Finally, she smiled. ‘It’s…perfect.’
