Page 78
Story: The Crown's Shadow
The seamstress snatched the measuring tape from Myra’s hands and flung it open. Mumbling nonsensical words, Marsinia wrapped the tape around Kallie’s waist once more.
Once it was lined up, she bellowed in frustration and threw the measuring tape onto the ground. “This one is wrong too!” Marsinia shouted with a sewing needle between her teeth.
Kallie cleared her throat and ran her hands down the fabric of the silk dress. “Excuse me, Marsinia, but may I ask what the problem is?”
Marsinia pulled the needle out of her mouth and shook it at Kallie. “You. This is your fault!”
Lux and the group of handmaidens gasped. Kallie, however, just stared blankly at the woman.
Marsinia shoved the needle closer. “Are you eating?”
“Excuse me?” Kallie asked, giving a wary look at the needle, then the seamstress.
The seamstress fixed her searing gaze on Myra and Phaia, pointing the needle at the handmaidens next. “How much is she eating?”
Phaia’s gaze dropped to the ground as though the floors were suddenly captivating. Beside her, Myra wrung her hands together at her waist while the other handmaidens fidgeted uncomfortably.
“Well?” Marsinia waved her hand in the air.
Pursing her lips to the side, Myra mumbled. “I suppose I have noticed that the Princess’ appetite has decreased since arriving in Frenzia.” Myra’s knuckles grew white, her fingers twisting together. “Somewhat, anyway.”
“Somewhat?” Marsinia tossed her hands in the air. She pointed a firm finger in Kallie’s direction. “She has lost over an inch around her waist, if not more, since the last time I measured her only four weeks ago!”
“But that can’t be,” Myra said, coming to take a look at the measuring tape. “The measuring tape must be—”
“Wrong? That’s what I thought. But there is no way. I mean . . . look at her! She was already small-chested to begin with, and now . . . .” Marsinia clicked her tongue. “Now I have to take in all the dresses, or else they will sag in all the wrong places! This is my reputation on the line! Do you know how much work that is going to be? How much time that is going to take? These dresses are incredibly intricate and delicate. These things take time to adjust. Time and patience, both of which are quickly dwindling.”
Kallie looked down at the dress. An inch around could not have made that much of a difference. The seamstress had to be exaggerating.
Kallie turned to her reflection in the mirror.
She looked the same as she did every day, yet her brows furrowed as she studied her reflection more closely.
She fixed the thin strap of the red silk dress that had fallen down her shoulders. The dress for the welcome dinner was loose in the middle. While Kallie did not oppose loose-fitting clothing, Marsinia had designed this one to hug her curves. The mockup she had tried on a couple of weeks ago had accentuated her femininity, embracing her wide hips while complimenting her less-than-average bosom. But today, it sagged around her curves. Her collarbone was more prominent, and the tops of her breasts were less plump.
How had she not noticed that she was losing weight?
Kallie sucked the inside of her cheek, biting down on the flesh.
“This will cost the crown extra,” Marsinia groaned.
With the faint taste of iron on her tongue, Kallie said, “We will cover it.”
She wagged a finger in Kallie’s face, the needle close to Kallie’s eye once again. “You need to eat, child. If it’s the Frenzian cuisine that you do not favor, have one of your handmaidens ask the cook to prepare something”—she waved the needle in the air—“more suitable to your taste buds. Whatever it is, I do not care.”
Marsinia bit down on the needle as she grabbed a pin from the cushion tied to her wrist and began pinning the fabric.
As the seamstress pinched the fabric and marked where the adjustments needed to be made, Kallie peered in the mirror again. Even her face looked thinner, narrower. She had not been trying to lose weight. On the contrary, she had given little thought to her weight. Like many young girls, Kallie was often self-conscious about her appearance as a child. When she started training, she had a new focus: to be strong. She learned that she needed to provide her body with the proper nutrients in order to build the muscle mass she wanted. Over the years, she had grown to love her body. Even when it changed—and it changed frequently. As her menstrual cycle took its course, naturally, her weight shifted. But it had never been a problem, at least not for her.
But now, Kallie couldn’t help but notice how she had changed since she arrived. Not just in her weight but her overall appearance. The cloud-covered skies of Frenzia had done little to warm up her complexion. Her skin, which not too long ago bore the kiss of the sun, had dulled. The freckles the sun had once brought months ago from riding horseback had nearly vanished. The sun’s touch did little for her skin, even with the numerous strolls around the grounds.
Once the seamstress finished, Marsinia told Kallie that she was on strict orders to maintain her diet, making Kallie promise to eat more. But at the mere mention of food, Kallie’s stomach flipped. These days, she had a hard time keeping anything down. No wonder she had lost weight.
When the seamstress and her assistant Lux left, taking the scattered notes for the alterations, Kallie dismissed the group of handmaidens. Myra was the only one to remain behind.
In the reflection of the mirror, Kallie lookedat Myra. “You see it, too. Don’t you, Myra?” Kallie asked as she put on the simple dress she had been wearing before the fitting.
Myra shook her head, and concern and disappointment drew her brows together. “I don’t know how I missed it.”
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