Narcissa gave me a reassuring smile.“The wedding isn’t for another five months and you’ve made far more lavish gowns for me in less time.”
“Those gowns weren’t as important,” I grouched.
“The bodice is lovely,” she said, smoothing her hands over the mockup as she gazed at her reflection in the gilded three-paneled mirror set in her receiving room, which was currently serving as a fitting room.The bodice fit her like a glove, the seam lines flowing snugly along the curves of her torso.Gauzy, off the shoulder sleeves cascaded down to her wrists.
I admired her for a moment, barely able to hold back a sigh of appreciation.I had always longed to sew for a princess as a child; for Narcissa to be my first client was fortunate indeed.
“Is it comfortable?”I asked.
She raised her arms, though they only came about a quarter way up.“It’s hard to move,” she admitted.“Though I don’t suppose I’d be raising my arms very much during the wedding.”
“No.But maybe for dances.And toasts.Which are all weddings are.”I heaved a sigh, whipping out my seam ripper.“Hold still.We’re starting over.”
Narcissa protested, but didn’t move away as I unpicked the wide basting threads holding her sleeves to the bodice.The cotton gauze slid down her arms.She let me remove them in silence, though I felt her studying me as I stuffed them into my satchel.
“Maddox tells me business has been slow,” she said.
“He should mind his own.”
“Are you two fighting?”
“Of course not.I have better things to do.”
She hummed.“Maddox says Jeraldine’s Dress Emporium has been doing exceptionally well lately.Some of her clientele thinkshewas the royal seamstress instead of you.”
Maddox seemed to notice far more than I gave him credit for.I didn’t let myself decide whether I was flattered or annoyed.
“My work can speak for itself,” I said with a sniff.
“I know it can.But a little help wouldn’t hurt, no?”Narcissa prodded.“What became of your interview at Blanche de Clare?”
Narcissa had offered me all sorts of assistance, including a royal grant and speaking to the press on my behalf.I knew one word from her would set me right in every way, as would the extra funds—but I was stubborn, determined to make it on my own, no royal association necessary.
Just skill and hard work in my arsenal, like I had meant to set out.
Only I had succumbed last month, when I had asked her to send a note to Blanche de Clare.
“It didn’t go well,” I murmured.
Narcissa pursed her lips.“I’m sorry about that.”
“Don’t be.It’s a welcome challenge,” I said with more gusto than I felt.“Now about these sleeves...”
I rummaged through my satchel, pulling out a square of gauze.I ran gathering stitches through either end and pulled them tight, creating a voluminous puff in the fabric.I set it on top of Narcissa’s shoulder, assessing our reflections in the mirror.
“What do you think?Shall we do short puffed sleeves or forgo them entirely?”
Narcissa shrugged.“I don’t have a preference.”
“It’s your wedding dress!How can you not have a preference?”
“I’ll like anything you make for me.”
It was a very touching answer—and an equally frustrating one.
“Shall I ask your cats, then?Or His Highness?”I tossed the mock sleeve in the air, letting it tumble softly to the lush carpet.
A knock came at the door then.A smooth voice said, “Cissa?Can I come in?”
