Chapter 85

Thank you for the report of the typos.

"I can't do this anymore!"

Hanna shouted. She was already in charge of three dresses on her own, and orders from the nobility kept pouring in. The social season had just begun, and even a small shop like theirs was overwhelmed with orders. Due to an impromptu ball hosted by the royal family over the weekend, every tailor in the capital was swamped with work.

Hanna, the seamstress, was on the verge of being crushed by the anxiety of whether she could really make three dresses in a week. She held back her tears and continued sewing silently when the shop owner told her to sew two more, and she finally snapped.

"I don't even know if I can finish three dresses in a week without sleeping, let alone five on my own!"

She understood. The shop owner wasn't to blame. Tailors couldn't refuse the nobility, especially when the ball was hosted by the royal family. Most of the invitees were high-ranking nobles, making it difficult to turn down orders. Noble young ladies didn't sew dresses; they only embroidered small flowers on the edges of handkerchiefs. Dresses were supposed to be made by several people over several weeks.

No matter how much she snapped, cried, or complained, new fabrics were placed mercilessly on her worktable. She hadn't had proper sleep or meals for days.

I'm quitting this job.

I'm quitting this job.

I'm quitting this job.

She screamed these words over and over in her mind, but she couldn't stop moving her needle.

Hanna had no family in the capital. She was a country girl who had come to work as a live-in seamstress to support her five younger siblings. The capital had initially seemed to sparkle with people and buildings, but since she started working at the tailor's shop, she had been sewing non-stop without ever going outside.

Hanna only had the dress she was wearing, one other dress, and a nightgown. She only had three sets of undergarments. How many dresses did the nobles plan to make?

Making dresses was futile.

Trendy designs were often bizarre and complex, making them difficult to sew, yet they quickly went out of style. Even when made to pattern, dresses were often returned as defective because the young ladies had gained or lost weight within a few days. Recently, some nobles had started refusing to use Palace silk for some reason, even though it was the easiest fabric to sew, praised by all seamstresses for its quality and ease of use.

Dresses that took such effort to make were often worn only once or twice before being discarded.

I'm quitting this job.

I'm quitting this job.

I'm quitting this job.

Despite her resolve, her body continued to sew the dresses. She noticed that the front of the shop was getting noisy.

"Really, we can't take any more orders."

"Find a way. I serve a duke's family!"

"A family of a duke's rank should have their own tailor. Our shop is small, and we are already at our limit."

"The young lady wants to wear a dress made by that skilled girl for the ball this weekend!"

"?? I understand the honor, but our shop has already reached its limit... Can't you please understand?"

"What nonsense! Other young ladies' orders can wait! I'm giving you the chance to make a dress for a duke's daughter!"

"Such a thing would damage our reputation with the families who favor us..."

Bang!!

"I'm leaving the measurement paper for the duke's daughter here! You must deliver it to the mansion the day before the ball! Use the latest design, and don't use Palace silk!"

"Such a thing is impossible!!!"

"Do you understand? I've left it here! You must meet the deadline! Absolutely!"

The duke's servant slammed the paper on the table in front of the shop owner and left the shop.

...The shop owner wasn't to blame.

But.

She had reached her limit.

The shop owner, who had been staring blankly at the door the servant had left through, slowly walked over to Hanna.

Please don't come.

Please.

Please don't come.

Cold sweat trickled down her back.

The shop owner stopped in front of Hanna.

"Hanna... one more... please..."

The shop owner wasn't to blame.

But, she had reached her limit.

"...I'm quitting this job."

The words she had screamed in her mind so many times finally slipped out of her mouth.

"Hanna?"

The shop owner wasn't to blame.

But, she couldn't stop now.

"I'm quitting this job!!!"

She slammed her hand on the worktable and stood up.

The shop owner wasn't to blame.

But, Hanna ran out of the shop like she was escaping, through the back door, into the outside world. It had been so long since she had been outside, she couldn't even remember the last time.

"Hanna?!! Hanna!!! Hannaaaaaa!!!"

The shop owner shouted, but her running feet didn't stop. She had reached her limit.

Thud.

Running blindly, Hanna's feet, which had been tangled from sewing dresses for months, tripped and she fell, taking a small girl with her.

"Ouch!!"

The girl, who let out a slightly odd scream, was quickly surrounded by the boys who had been with her.

"Emma!?"

"Miss Emma!!"

"Sister!?"

Hanna, in pain, looked at the girl and the boys, and froze. They were clearly not commoners. Since she had run out of a shop in the capital's commercial district, the people there were either shop workers or noble customers.

The fallen girl had long, shiny blonde hair and was wearing a simple dress made of high-quality Palace silk. The two boys who ran to her had the same blonde hair and unusual purple eyes, while the third had freckles and brown hair and eyes.

Their clothing and graceful manners clearly marked them as nobles.

"Ouch... ouch..."

When the girl, who had fallen with Hanna, lifted her face, a large scratch was visible on her cheek.

"Ah!!! I'm so sorry!!!"

She had injured a noble young lady's face. Reflexively, she apologized, but this was a capital offense. No, her life alone wouldn't be enough to atone. But at least...

"I'll give you my life, but please, please save my family... at least the young ones!"

She bowed her head to the cobblestones in apology. Would the shop owner who had hired her also be punished?

The shop owner wasn't to blame.

"Huh?? Hmm... No, that's an exaggeration for just bumping into each other..."

The girl, helped up by the boys, responded with a soft, gentle voice.

"No! I've injured a noble's face! Please, please forgive me with my life!"

"Injury!? Miss Emma!! Are you hurt?? I'll call a doctor!"

The freckled boy worriedly addressed the girl. She must be a high-ranking young lady. Her beautiful hair and pale green eyes were distinctive, and they belonged to a certain duke's family, didn't they?

"No, no, it's fine. The scratch was already there, and my bag cushioned the fall, so I'm unharmed."

The girl smiled softly, but the boys continued to check her for injuries... Hanna, still on the ground, could sense their concern.

Indeed, she must be a very high-ranking young lady. The hardships of her job seemed like heaven compared to this. Hanna realized in an instant that her life had hit rock bottom.

"Good, no injuries. That's a relief. If Emma had been hurt, it would have been a hassle for her father."

A hand was placed on Hanna's arm, and she was pulled up with surprising strength.

"Are you okay?"

The tall boy with purple eyes looked down at Hanna. Despite her size, she was heavy, yet he lifted her effortlessly, which surprised her. She was confused as to why this noble was concerned about her.

"Ah, your hand is scraped!"

The girl, who had bumped into her, also looked worried as she examined Hanna's hand. She remembered something and pulled out a handkerchief from her bag, which she had said cushioned her fall.

To Hanna's surprise, the girl placed the handkerchief on her scraped hand to tend to it.

...!!!...

The smooth texture of this handkerchief... it's... Palace... silk!?

The pain from the scrape was overshadowed by the sensation of the luxurious silk, which she had been handling daily until recently. She was terrified when she saw the handkerchief placed on her hand, which had such intricate cat embroidery.

Two realistic calico cats. The glossy fur of a black cat. The fluffy feel of a white cat.

The dynamic movement of the yarn they were playing with.

A handkerchief made of Palace silk with embroidery that reached the realm of art was being stained by the blood from her scrape.

As a seamstress, Hanna knew the value of Palace silk.

As a seamstress, she knew the value of the embroidery.

An incredibly expensive handkerchief was being used to tend to the scrape of a commoner, a country girl who had just become unemployed.

Her vision went white.

She slowly lost consciousness, unable to resist as she fell.

Come to think of it, she hadn't eaten or slept properly for days.

The shop owner wasn't to blame.