The Seamstress

CHAPTER ONE

Kae held up the dress, eyes scanning over every inch of it to ensure there were no tears or holes she had missed. Her short height made it difficult for her to lift it high enough to keep it off the ground, but she managed.

The noble lady gazed at the blue ball gown in approval. "My goodness! It looks just like new. You know, I wanted to thank you for doing this for me last minute. I wanted to fit back into this gown to prove I hadn't gained weight like those gossips at court keep saying..." Her blonde curls hung loosely down her neck.

To Kae, it looked as if she had gained weight; Lady Mardy had often come to her aunt's shop for gowns or to have Kae make new ones. Her weight had been steadily increasing over the past several months, but as a lowly seamstress, it wasn't Kae's place to say anything. Not to mention, she was far too polite to, in any case.

Aunt Vollie smiled pleasantly at Lady Mardy; she had always been far better at interacting with the members of the court, even though she was only a middle-class merchant. Kae neither knew nor cared to speak so smoothly, with hidden words and lies, the way most nobles did. "Kae's work is truly exceptional. I don't think the members of the court will even notice you're wearing an older dress of yours! She has such a talent for stitching!"

Lady Mardy nodded her head as she gestured for her one of her servant girls to grab it. She took the dress from Kae's hands and carefully laid it out on a table at the front of the shop specifically designed to gently wrap new gowns that Kae made. She would have wrapped it herself, but that job belonged to the servants; not to mention Lady Mardy was picky about such things. "Yes, yes... You know, my cousin, the King is actually holding a bit of a... contest of sorts, at the palace."

"A contest?" Aunt Vollie's attention turned from the shelves she had been stocking with potions and herbs, to Lady Mardy for the first time during that entire conversation. "What sort of contest?"

Lady Mardy gestured to Kae with her fan. "King Faro's daughter, Princess Fara, will have her formal coronation at her eighteenth birthday celebration ball next month. Faro is holding a contest between all the seamstresses in the kingdom to find the best one to make Fara's ball gown! He's invited them all to the palace later this afternoon! Vollie, dear, you should bring Kae. See if her talents hold up to the other seamstresses in the land."

Kae inclined her head and swallowed deeply. A contest like that would likely do her a great honor—to even consider being acknowledged by the king—but she preferred quiet and solitude. Although, she had been inside Aunt Vollie's shop for several weeks, other than a few trips down the street to the marketplace and back. What could it hurt to get out of the house a bit?

Aunt Vollie giggled. "Oh, of course, we'll come! She's the best seamstress in all of Farowyn!"

Lady Mardy snapped her fingers and her servant girl carefully lifted the dress and hauled it into her carriage waiting outside the shop's doors. The noblewoman followed and stopped in the doorway. "Then she will have no trouble with the contest. I shall look forward to seeing you both there! Ta!" With that, she held her carriage driver's hand as he helped her into the carriage. Kae swore she saw it dip a bit as Lady Mardy slipped inside it. The door closed, the driver hopped in the front, and it took off down the street on the right that led to the better end of the town.

Even from this distance of about half a mile, the palace towered so high that Kae could clearly see every detail of the top. The stonework was a marvel to gaze at: white and maroon colored marble overlaid with gold and silver made up the walls. Twisted spires with swirls and zigzags embedded into the design. Overhead, the sun shone brightly, glistening off the palace spires, forcing Kae to look away.

While Aunt Vollie was still distracted, Kae darted to the back of the shop, closing the door to her workroom behind her. Perhaps if she waited in here, then Aunt Vollie would forget—