The chamber seemed quieter once Lady Cassia, Roslin, and Atticus had left — their absence leaving behind the lingering perfume and the fading hush of trailing silks. The seamstress lingered, her hands folded neatly before her, eyes resting on Anneliese with a consideration that felt more genuine than the scrutiny that had filled the room moments before.
"Lady Anneliese," Estelle began, her tone gentler now that the air had eased, "I could not help but notice your eyes do not wander toward the heavier brocades or gilded velvets." A faint smile curved her lips, warm yet professional. "You favor grace over weight — a beauty that does not hide behind excess."
Anneliese lowered her gaze once before meeting Estelle's eyes again. With a quiet honesty, she confessed, "I have never worn royal gowns. To be truthful, I have never even seen them this closely. They feel more like armor than attire."
