Amarisse and Elvessa were stunned by the seamstress's sudden excitement. They couldn't understand what was so new or thrilling about serving a random woman from a backwater tribe.
In contrast, Mirabella had joined the seamstress, gleefully dragging Ythira along to try on gown after gown. The two chatted and giggled like long-lost friends, attracting the attention and admiration of the helpers around them.
The mother-and-daughter pair gritted their teeth, scowling at the sight of so many people rushing to serve a woman of such low birth.
"Mother," Elvessa hissed through clenched teeth, her gaze fixed on Mirabella with seething rage, "if we let this continue, the palace servants will soon disregard us. We'll be treated like furniture in these halls."
