Marinette The Dressmaker

Standing outside of that same wooden door, the place I occupied was so familiar.

It took unusual courage for the sound of the bell to echo through the shop.

Today her parents were out of town, going out to search for new products.

Oh gosh, will she reprimand me for my imprudence last night?

We never keep secrets. I will tell her either way.

“Alya?” I went into the back, passing by the frills, and flowers, so carefully curated by Lord Césaire. Not that he particularly loved decorating, but he loved Lady Césaire so he helped as much as he was able. That included making pretty pink bows.

“Mari?” She answered from the corner of the room, covered in lace and thread. The table before her seemed chaotic.

“Let me guess, Baroness Rambert found you yesterday at the fair.” she nodded, head buried in her hands. “Was it the sleeves this time, was it a millimetre longer than she asked? Or did she find a single loose thread in her bonnet?” I inquired, knowing well the clientele at Césaire Boutique was tough.

“Sometimes I wish sewing came as natural to me as it did to you. I would much rather bake all day.” Her eyes pleaded for help, and I located a stool I could use to sit beside her.

“Give it to me.” I put my hand out, and she handed me a bonnet “So it was the bonnet.” The Rambert Barony was Neuve Rich, so the Baroness felt a sense of responsibility to remain perfect and intact. The lady was never mean, just strict, and the only boutique she trusted was the one she had used all her life.

I inspected not finding much wrong with it. It was probably done by Lady Césaire, the finishing was perfect, but my friend’s skill did not get there yet.

Alya noticed my confusion, offering an explanation “Oh, the lace is too blue. What does that mean Mari? The Baroness asked for a blue lace!” Alya scrambled through multiple different shades of blue lace, seemingly defeated.

“Can you tell me which colour she was wearing yesterday?” High society’s trends changed as much as the wind. But I was always ahead.

“Blue!” Alya exclaimed.

“Question, did it seem like a more purplish tone?” I asked, almost sure of the mistake.

“Yes…” She answered unsure as to what I meant by that.

“Then it was Periwinkle!” I said confidently, sorting through the mountain of lace. While Alya stared at me in doubt. “Walking through the market for hours, you start seeing a pattern.” I shrugged her suspicions off.

“High Society is so weird, what is the difference between a baby blue and a periwinkle?” She asked, clearly frustrated at the baroness.

“The difference is that one the queen has not worn and the other she has.” Alya stared at me and then appeared to have accepted this was it, helping me in the search for periwinkle lace.

ꕥ

This was a usual occurrence. Running around the store, finding colours and textures. Solutions to problems even. On days exactly like this one, sunny yet not too warm, she would tell me about Nino Lahiffe, and the incredibly great of a Lord he had become. That was in the past it seemed.

After yesterday’s events this lack of gushing about him was quite weird.

“Alya, are you planning on killing me with suspense?” I asked out of nowhere, unable to hold the curiosity anymore, while she reached for a flowery pattern in the last drawer.

“I did not mean it to be this way.” She sighed, clearly also bothered by something “Mari, besides having asked the Lord out…” She stopped when a smile formed.

“Whatever could be so weird you don’t even want to tell me about it?” I probably knew her better than my own self. This was incredibly suspicious behaviour.

“Well the Lord had to go after some time, and he told me something quite shocking.” She looked behind, showing me an expression of terror.

“Alya, are you making fun of me?”

“Partly, but it was shocking. I will tell you and only you.” she made a pause for impact. Oh, how I hated her and loved her at the same time. “Apparently, the lord who accompanied him was some kind of foreign royalty.”

“Now you are actually making up stories.”

“Did you not notice?” She climbed down the stairs with the patterned cloth.

Alya seemed serious.

“How did I miss this opportunity? You should have told me immediately!” I helped her by taking the cloth as she took the last step down.

“He was wearing a costume, Mari! You just never noticed anything.” She sighed, growing frustrated. But I on the other hand became suspicious.

“A black cat costume?” Never knew I would be asking this in such a serious tone.

“So you did see him!” Alya put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes.

“Alya, I also have news!” I knew it! He was foreign, most likely English. Should have known by his choice of fashion. Simply criminal.

She approached, worried as my face grew paler.

“I met that foreign lord. Actually, we talked quite a bit. He might be my future employer…” His people will need a seamstress who knows how high society fashion works. And not whatever he was wearing.

“Now that seems more like a made-up story.” When she saw the look I gave her she seemed to be convinced “How?”

“Umm… What if I told you I helped him run away…” My eyes dropped to the floor.

“Nino told me he had run from the guards. So you were to blame.” She did not seem mad. “We had to cut our date short because he was suddenly missing.”

“Technically, I was also missing then…” I carefully analysed her reaction

“Oh, quite practically! Where did you hide for it to have been so hard to find?” Her arms crossed made me feel like a child getting scolded.

“If I tell you. Pinky promise me to not be mad?” I grinned but I felt the day was suddenly a little chilly.

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