Shael had been persistently demanding to leave the boutique.
In response, I gestured toward the dress positioned at the center of the room, the most striking wedding dress I had ever seen. Despite its apparent unfinished state, the dress exuded a sense of perfection.
After scrutinizing the dress, Shael withdrew her earlier complaints. Even I acknowledged that the beauty of the dress had the power to mollify Shael's discontent.
Adorned with light blue frills, the dress seed tailor-made for Shael. I couldn't help but desire to witness her wearing it at our wedding.
“…”
Expressing admiration, Shael finally admitted, “It’s pretty.”
“I think so too. I really want to buy it…”
The real challenge, however, lay in convincing the owner to sell it, especially after Shael's earlier impolite remarks.
As I contemplated our next move, Shael took the initiative.
Knock-tock!
The sound of Shael carefully knocking on the door filled the room, and she spoke up.
“Please sell it.”
Though Shael's request carried a semblance of politeness, it was evidently a failed attempt. The door remained unresponsive, a natural outco for not apologizing first after making rude comnts.
Steering Shael away from the door, I suggested, “First of all, it would be good to ask for forgiveness for what you said earlier.”
Ideally, I hoped Shael would reflect on her actions and apologize on her own, but the situation demanded a more imdiate approach. Shael, who had never been proficient at offering apologies, presented a challenge.
Approaching the door, Shael began, and just before she could say anything, the door swung open.
The owner, who had previously displayed a fiery temperant, now wore a thoughtful expression. Unexpectedly, she responded, “You are being a nuisance. Why haven’t you left yet?”
“Sorry for my mistake earlier…”
Shael's apology, though sowhat forced, seed to acknowledge her fault. Contrary to my expectations, the owner, who had been confrontational earlier, now seed contemplative.
“…hmm.”
To my surprise, the owner did not erupt as I had anticipated. Instead, she seed to be considering sothing. Finally, she spoke, “Then, can you help with sothing?”
The unexpected turn of events worked in our favor. With the owner in a better mood, there was a possibility of obtaining the yet-to-be-finished dress lying in the boutique.
However, our optimism was short-lived. The owner, while placing a sizable box on the floor, set a condition, “If you get this all sewn up, I will accept your apology.”
“…”
The box contained a mountain of clothes, each with torn sections, making it clear that the task ahead was formidable.
Before further discussion, the owner left the room, leaving us to deal with the daunting pile.
‘Did she just pass her the chores us…’
Rumors about the owner's eccentric personality seed accurate.
I and Shael resigned ourselves to the task, silently sitting down and beginning the tedious process of sewing.
Predicting Shael's unfamiliarity with the task, I instructed, “For now, watch what I do and follow .”
Employing various magical aids, I proceeded to nd the torn clothes at a deliberate pace, offering Shael an opportunity to learn.
Once the clothes were haphazardly stitched, I asked, “Can you do this by yourself?”
Shael, however, remained silent, her expression one of confusion.
Turning my gaze, I discovered that Shael had already skillfully sewn several garnts.
“…?”
“What?” Caught off guard, Shael questioned my expression.
Her ability to sew was unexpected. Puzzled, I inquired, “When did you start learning?”
“…I have been able to do it since I was little.”
Surprised by this revelation, a sudden thought occurred to .
“Then why didn’t you sew the teddy bear I gave you?”
Shael's response was dismissive, “Wh..why would I? It was a doll I didn’t pay much attention to…”
Amused by her nonchalant attitude, I considered the possibility that the teddy bear held more significance to her than she let on.
With newfound admiration for Shael's skills, I expressed my desire to hug her. Despite the hostess's potential disapproval, I indulged in the mont, embracing Shael while she continued her diligent sewing.
As the pile of clothes dwindled and the bottom of the box beca visible, the owner returned, carrying a large box.
“Finished?” She inquired, visibly surprised at the neatly sewn clothes.
It seed that her plan to tease us about our assud inability to sew was thwarted. Yet still unfazed, the owner walked over, hands behind her back.
“…cough!”
A deliberate cough interrupted the mont. Concerned, I approached, only to realize that the owner was faking it.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Dismissing Shael's suggestion to see a doctor, the owner eventually accepted her advice, acknowledging her intentional cough.
In return for our efforts, she agreed to sell the dress and promised to send it to the Azbel family once completed.
* * *
At the Imperial Palace, a social gathering was underway—a prelude to the Imperial Festival where nobles gathered to strengthen friendships.
Although these gatherings were generally inconsequential, my focus was on dispelling the rumors surrounding Shael.
Despite efforts from Dukes Ezran and Jespen, the rumors persisted, fueled by the involvent of the Crown Prince and the Mage Tower Lord. The gossip had extended to include false speculations about my relationship with Shael.
In an attempt to address the rumors, Shael and I attended the social church, a place where nobles congregated. While I didn't anticipate physical confrontations, the challenge lay in dispelling the unsettling gossip that had spread throughout the aristocratic circles.
Placing a likely fatigued Shael in her carriage, I found myself idling in front of it.
Suddenly, a woman approached, addressing with an unusual deanor.
“Oh, isn’t it Young Lord Eran?”
The encounter marked a turning point, signaling the beginning of a new challenge.
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