The carriage slowed down gradually.
The wheels crunched against the gravel road, making a series of fine, rustling sounds.
The carriage swayed slightly before coming to a complete stop.
A small wooden sign hung by the door.
Elegant script was carved into the natural wood base.
Lillian's Sewing House.
This was the second time Klein and Ophelia stood in this place together.
Back then, Ophelia had just arrived in this remote town.
She had brought nothing but her suit of armor, her entire being radiating a wary air that kept others at a distance.
Klein had brought her here simply to pick out a few sets of everyday clothes.
At that time, her mind was filled only with how to survive in this strange place.
Now.
He had brought her here to commission a wedding dress.
The temperature in Ophelia's cheeks rose rapidly.
The heat spread from her neck all the way up.
She lowered her head, her golden hair falling over the side of her face to hide her burning ears.
Klein did not let go of her hand.
He led her straight to the wooden door where the wind chimes hung.
His slender fingers rested on the brass doorknob and pressed down gently.
The wooden door pushed inward.
The brass wind chimes hanging above the door frame collided.
Ding-ling, ding-ling.
The crisp metallic clinking echoed down the quiet street.
A wave of warm, dry air rushed out from the gap in the door, washing over the two of them.
The air was a mix of the scent of starch from new fabrics, a faint citrus incense, and the unique dry smell of things baked in the sun for a long time.
The interior of the shop was not large, but it was kept extremely tidy.
A large glass window facing the street let in a vast amount of sunlight.
The bright light cut several clear paths through the air.
Fine dust danced up and down in the light, their trajectories chaotic and disorganized.
Two rows of tall wooden shelves stood against the wall.
Rolls of fabric of various colors and materials were stacked neatly, arranged from light to dark according to their color scheme.
Several wooden mannequins stood quietly in the corner.
The models were dressed in a few half-finished dresses that were only partially sewn.
Behind the counter.
A petite figure was curled up in a large high-backed chair.
Lillian was holding a book with yellowed covers.
A simple line drawing of a small person riding a horse and holding a spear was printed on the cover.
It was a commoner knight novel that circulated widely in the town.
The moment the wind chimes rang.
Lillian's shoulders jerked.
She looked up in a panic.
Because her movements were too large, the book in her hand slipped directly onto her lap.
Her light brown hair clung to her cheeks in a slightly messy fashion.
She saw the two people standing at the door.
Klein was holding Ophelia's hand as they stepped inside.
Lillian stood up abruptly.
Her knee struck the inner edge of the wooden counter.
There was a dull thud.
She let out a sharp breath from the pain and slumped back into the chair.
"Ma... Master Klein."
Lillian spoke stutteringly.
She braced her hands on the edge of the counter and struggled to stand up straight again.
Her gaze lingered for a second on Klein and Ophelia's joined hands before darting away as if she had been electrocuted.
She buried her head very low, her chin almost poking into her collar.
Rumors in the town had been flying thick and fast for over a month.
They all said that Miss Ophelia was the wife Master Klein had married.
Although the tailor had a bit more contact with these two than others, her knowledge was still limited.
Now it seemed it was true.
"Good morning, Lillian."
Klein led Ophelia to the counter.
He let go of her hand and pulled over a nearby round stool, gesturing for Ophelia to sit.
Ophelia sat upright on the stool with her hands on her knees and her back straight.
She still maintained that defensive posture, as if ready to draw her sword at any moment.
Lillian looked at the long sword hanging at Ophelia's waist and swallowed hard.
"Good morning, Master Klein, and... Miss Ophelia."
Lillian spoke very softly.
She folded her hands in front of her, fingers uneasily twisting the edge of her apron.
"How... how can I help you today?"
"Is the home outfit torn? Or do you need something mended?"
She asked tentatively, trying to make her pronunciation clearer.
Klein leaned one hand on the counter.
"It is not for mending."
He looked at the shrinking Lillian.
"I want to commission a wedding dress for Ophelia."
Lillian's fingers twisting the apron stopped abruptly.
She snapped her head up, her eyes wide and round.
Her mouth hung open slightly, and she failed to make a sound for a long time.
A wedding dress?
Make a wedding dress for this lady who was rumored to be a knightess from the Empire?
The highest level of alarm instantly rang in Lillian's mind.
She was just a tailor in a small border town...
While her craft was inherited from her mother and had a long history.
But... something like a wedding dress represented the face of the nobility.
The materials, tailoring, embroidery, and pattern all had extremely strict standards.
What if the measurements were off by a fraction?
What if the stitches were not smooth enough?
What if this madam was dissatisfied after putting it on and drew that heavy sword in a fit of rage...
Lillian looked at the broad scabbard of that long sword.
She felt a chill on her neck.
No, absolutely not.
"Ma... Master Klein."
Lillian waved her hands repeatedly, her body backing away until her back pressed against the fabric shelf behind her.
"This... this is not right."
"I am just a small shop... I cannot make a wedding dress."
She refused incoherently.
"You should go to the city... there are large tailor shops in the city with specialized dress designers."
Klein did not speak.
He turned to look at Ophelia sitting beside him.
Ophelia received Klein's gaze.
She stood up and walked to the counter.
Lillian watched the approaching Ophelia and closed her eyes in fear.
"Lillian."
Ophelia spoke clearly, without any beating around the bush.
"I liked the clothes you made last time."
"They were very well-fitted, and there was no hindrance to movement."
"I trust your skill."
Lillian quietly opened one eye.
Ophelia was looking at her seriously.
There was no high-and-mighty contempt in those golden eyes, only a pure statement of fact.
This knightess spoke directly and did not know how to be polite, but every word was the truth.
A crack appeared in Lillian's defenses.
As a tailor, what she craved most was recognition from her customers.
Those few sets of home outfits from last time—except for the semi-finished ones taken away at the very beginning—were things she had spent a lot of time on, making special adjustments based on Ophelia's muscle lines.
Now that effort had received a response from the person herself.
A sense of professional pride quietly sprouted in her chest.
"But..." Lillian's voice grew softer.
"A wedding dress is different from everyday clothes... it is meant for display, something that happens only once in a lifetime."
"I am afraid what I make will not be worthy of the Madam's status."
Klein spoke up at the appropriate moment.
"Status is not important."
He pulled a heavy coin purse from his pocket and placed it on the counter.
The gold coins made an enticing sound as they collided.
"What matters is that Ophelia is comfortable wearing it and that she looks beautiful."
"You are the only one in town who knows her measurements best."
"If you do not accept, we can only go to the city to find tailors we do not know."
"I do not like the idea of strangers putting their hands on my wife."
Klein said half-jokingly.
Lillian's gaze moved back and forth between the coin purse, Klein, and Ophelia.
She took a deep breath of the air filled with the scent of fabric.
"I will take the commission."
Her voice suddenly became firm, even though her body was still trembling slightly.
"But I need to retake the measurements."
"The fit requirements for a wedding dress are much higher than for everyday clothes."
Once she entered her working state as a tailor, Lillian's social anxiety was briefly suppressed.
She pulled out a drawer from under the counter.
She took out a leather measuring tape, a piece of parchment for recording, and a charcoal pencil.
She went around the counter and walked up to Ophelia.
Her previously cowering posture vanished.
She walked around Ophelia once.
Her gaze swept rapidly over Ophelia's shoulders, waistline, hips, and legs.
"Young Madam, please raise your arms."
Ophelia raised her arms as instructed.
Lillian held the measuring tape, skillfully taking measurements on Ophelia's body.
"The muscle lines on the shoulders are firmer than last time; the armhole needs a bit more allowance here."
She was completely immersed in her own world, her mouth constantly mumbling professional terms.
Ophelia stood rigidly, allowing Lillian to manipulate her.
She turned her head to look at Klein.
Klein was leaning against the counter, watching the scene with interest.
After finishing the basic measurements, Lillian stopped.
She bit the end of the charcoal pencil and stared at Ophelia for a moment.
Then, she turned to look at the mannequins in the corner.
A bold idea took shape in her mind.
The hardest part of making a wedding dress was not the sewing, but determining the pattern.
Everyone's frame was different, and the suitable hem and neckline were also completely different.
Only by trying on existing semi-finished products could she know which pattern would best highlight Ophelia's heroic spirit.
Lillian dropped the charcoal pencil and walked quickly to the corner.
She struggled to drag out one of the mannequins.
The model was wearing a semi-finished white mermaid dress.
There was no lace, no decoration, only the most basic cutting lines.
"Young Madam."
Lillian turned around, clasping her hands in front of her chest.
A pair of wide eyes stared at Ophelia.
"Could you... try this one on?"
"Only by seeing the effect of it on your body can I determine the final design drawings."
Her words were very earnest, even carrying a hint of pleading.
"Please, this is very important to me."
Ophelia looked at the mermaid dress tightly wrapping the mannequin's body.
The hem was narrow, only spreading out slightly below the knees.
With this kind of clothing on, forget swinging a sword, even walking with large strides would be difficult.
She instinctively wanted to refuse.
"This garment... is not very convenient, is it?"
Ophelia gave the most objective evaluation.
Lillian grew anxious.
She took a step forward and reached out, gently pulling at the hem of Ophelia's home outfit.
"Just try it... just to check the pattern."
"I promise the final product will have enough room for movement."
"I beg you, Miss Ophelia."
Lillian's voice carried a hint of a sob.
For a tailor, encountering a perfect 'fabric' but being unable to put the most suitable pattern on it for a look was more painful than death.
Ophelia was at a bit of a loss.
She was not afraid to face fierce enemies, but faced with this kind of soft pleading, she had no idea how to respond.
She turned to look at Klein, sending a silent SOS.
Klein stood up straight.
He met Ophelia's pleading gaze.
"Ophelia."
Klein spoke easily.
"Lillian is a professional."
"Since we have given her the task of customizing the wedding dress, we should cooperate with her work."
Ophelia felt that Klein's intentions might lie elsewhere.
Her fingers at her sides moved, yet she still agreed.
"Fine."
She agreed decisively, without any hesitation.
Lillian let out a cheer.
She immediately ran over and stripped the semi-finished mermaid dress off the mannequin.
"Young Madam, this way please."
Lillian held the pile of white fabric and pointed to a wooden door at the very back of the shop.
That was the fitting room.
Ophelia stepped forward, walking toward the fitting room.
Her steps were a bit stiff.
Arriving at the fitting room door, she stopped.
She turned her head and looked at Klein standing by the counter.
Klein nodded to her.
Ophelia withdrew her gaze and walked into the fitting room.
Lillian followed closely behind.
Click.
The wooden door closed.
The sound of the latch clicking was exceptionally clear in the quiet shop.
Klein pulled over the round stool from before and sat down outside the fitting room door.
Inside the fitting room.
The space was narrow, with a large full-length mirror hanging on the wall.
Lillian placed the semi-finished mermaid dress on a nearby stool.
"Young Madam, please take off your outer clothes first."
Ophelia raised her hands and unbuttoned her home outfit.
Her movements were efficient, without any bashfulness.
The clothes fell away, revealing the white inner garments beneath.
The muscle lines from years of training were faintly visible under the thin fabric.
Lillian's eyes glazed over.
There was not a trace of excess fat; every muscle contained explosive power, yet it was not coarse, instead radiating a startling aesthetic of strength.
"Young Madam, your figure... is simply that of a perfect clothes hanger."
Lillian could not help but praise her.
Ophelia did not respond.
She looked down at her left hand.
A glove covered the back of her hand and fingers.
"Does this need to come off?" she asked, pointing at the glove.
Lillian blinked.
"No, no, this semi-finished piece is sleeveless, it will not interfere."
She quickly picked up the mermaid dress and carefully slipped it over Ophelia's head.
The fabric slid down her body.
Lillian went behind Ophelia and began to tighten the laces on the back.
As the laces tightened, the pattern of the mermaid dress gradually became apparent.
The waist was cinched, and the fabric clung tightly to the curves of her hips and legs.
Ophelia inhaled deeply; her chest was tightly bound, unable to expand fully.
"It is too tight."
She stated the fact.
"Bear with it for a moment, Young Madam, it will be done soon."
Lillian instinctively curled her lip, expressing dissatisfaction with this somewhat beautiful trouble, before using both hands to tie the final lace into a knot.
"There, look in the mirror."
Ophelia turned around to face the full-length mirror.
The mirror reflected a completely strange woman.
The white fabric had no decoration, yet it outlined the curves of her body to the fullest.
The originally heroic knightess was now wrapped in this extremely feminine dress, presenting a powerful visual impact.
Ophelia looked at herself in the mirror.
She tried to lift her right leg.
The fabric at the knee tightened, restricting her movement to a very small range.
But it was fine, not hard to adapt to.
Lillian stood to the side, cradling her cheeks in her hands.
"So beautiful..."
"This extreme cinched waist design perfectly highlights your waist-to-hip ratio."
"Just by adding an invisible slit at the back of the hem, the restriction on movement can be solved."
Lillian's brain had already begun to automatically generate revised design drawings.
"Miss Ophelia, could you try taking a few steps?"
Ophelia tried to step out with her right foot.
Her stride was tiny, her sole sliding along the floor.
The feeling of being bound made her uncomfortable all over.
Her left foot followed.
Her body swayed slightly due to the change in her center of gravity.
She reached out her right hand and braced it against the wall to steady herself.
Klein's inquiry came from outside the door.
"Are you finished changing?"
His voice came through the wooden door, sounding slightly distorted.
Ophelia stopped.
She looked at herself in the mirror.
She withdrew her hand from the wall.
Her hands hung naturally at her sides.
"I am finished."
She answered.
...
Klein stared at the brass handle on the wooden door.
The handle made a slight metallic rubbing sound as it slowly turned downward.
Click.
The latch popped open.
The wooden door was pushed open a crack.
Light leaked through the gap, pulling a widening band of light across the floor.
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