Page 110 of A Cursed Son

“We could make leaves,” she suggests. “Make you look like the ground of a forest, all colorful.” Her voice changes, and there’s a new energy in it. “I’ll have to hurry like crazy, but yes, it can work.”

“I’ll help,” I offer. “As much as I can, of course.”

Marlak pushes his chair and stands beside us. “I’ll help, too. I can turn away when you measure her.”

“Turn away?” Lidiane has a puzzled expression.

He shrugs. “It’s good form, isn’t it?”

It’s her turn to shrug. Then she looks at us. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes,” I say, and notice Marlak and I spoke at the same time. My cheeks feel warm, and I keep my eyes on Lidiane.

“Let’s get to work, then.” With a giddy smile, she grabs a measuring tape from a corner, then gestures for me to come close. “You can keep your clothes. I know how to discount the difference.” She stares at my top and wrinkles her nose, then turns to Marlak. “Irene, really? That gossipy old fool? I could have done much better.”

“And you will,” Marlak says. “You’re the one I chose for a coronation. Irene is for clothes nobody will see.”

Lidiane still has a grimace.

Marlak’s right, though. It’s funny how I’m starting to understand him. I bet Irene provides her services based on a promise of keeping working for him if he ever takes the throne, and I bet the materials and labor are nothing to her. Lidiane is clearly struggling, and to demand her to make clothes just for me to wear while secluded on an island would be untoward.

The girl still shakes her head. “I’m much, much better than Irene. Even though she’s good. Anyway, let’s get to work.”

And work it is. I kept waiting for her to protest, to say we shouldn’t help her, at least to tell Marlak not to bother, but it’s not the case. She gives each of us a pair of scissors, a paper template, and tells us to cut leaves out of the fabric. Her tone is firm, not the least worried about ordering her king. Then again, I don’t know if she thinks of him as her king. Marlak isn’t upset. While he’s clearly not skilled with scissors, he’s doing his best. And so am I.

I never had any classes on cutting fabrics, but I try to do it carefully, aware that she only has so many leftover pieces. In fact, the truth is that I never had to work a day of my life, I never had to wonder if I’d have enough to eat. I don’t know if Lidiane and even Marlak can say the same. Otavio always told me I was privileged, and I can see some truth in his words, even though I was also a prisoner.

Was. Have I escaped?

I don’t want to think too much. All I do is cut, cut, cut. If I had to make a dress in a few hours, I’d simplify it as much as possible. When I suggested this, I was thinking the pieces would be much bigger, but then, she’s the one trying to gain a reputation as a dressmaker.

Lidiane is sewing the pieces together. Her speed is impressive, perhaps magical. Even then, oh, there are so many leaves. The sound of her needle moving fast and mine and Marlak’s scissors and their thisk, thisk, thisk is peaceful.

There’s a satisfaction in working together for a single goal, in knowing that we’re getting something done, and something magical about turning these leftover pieces of fabric into beautiful leaves, and then a beautiful dress.

As I’m focused on a yellow piece of silk, Lidiane touches my shoulder, startling me. I almost drop the scissors.

“Time for a break. I’m not going to let you starve.”

Marlak is sitting, arms crossed, no longer cutting any pieces of fabric.

I glance at the stove, wondering if I’ll finally have a soup or stew or anything hot. Instead, Lidiane pulls bread and dried meat from a cupboard, then a jug of water and some cups. And that’s our lunch, for which I’m grateful.

“Thank you, Lidiane,” I say. “For the food and the dress.”

“This?” She grimaces, pointing at the bread. “This is horrible, but I don’t have time to cook for you. And the dress… is my pleasure. My dream, really, to dress a queen. Of course, I wouldn’t have guessed it would be an uncrowned queen, but…” She bites her lip.

I think I know what she’s getting at, and give her a reassuring smile. “Dreams never come true the way we thought they would, but it’s still great to see them realized.”

Then the truth of my own words hits me with a chill. I glance at Marlak, wondering if he’s indeed my dreams coming true. I have to look away quickly because his eyes meet mine.

I try to wash my feelings with tepid water, but it obviously doesn’t work. I hope Marlak didn’t make anything out of my mention of dreams.

“It’s great,” Lidiane says. “Regardless if you’ll ever wear a crown or if I’ll ever have my own shop.”

“Of course you will.” Marlak glares at her. “You can’t give up on your dreams.”

Lidiane shakes her head. “It’s not give up, it’s just… Adapt.”