The way Noa had come to stand by Lael's side had been neither glorious nor heartening. He was an orphan, abandoned at the Temple of the God of Hope.
On a sweltering summer day, he had been left there—yet because a grand festival had overtaken the entire region that day and the days after, he wasn't found until two days later.
For a time, the temple cared for him, but eventually, he fell into the hands of a group who called themselves benefactors. In truth, they raised orphans as servants to sell them to wealthy families.
It was on a day when Lael's father was taken to one of these places by a friend that he first saw Noa, venting all his anger on children older than himself. That day, he decided to take the boy into his service. And so, Noa met Lael.
She was the youngest daughter of the household he now served. She greeted him with a cornflower-blue fan that easily hid her small face. When Noa reluctantly gave his name, Lael drew the fan away and offered him a radiant smile.
And in that single moment, her smile was enough—Noa found himself trusting the child a year younger than he was in only a few seconds.
Noa shifted into a more comfortable position, sliding one hand between his crossed legs as he leaned closer across the table.
"Alright, Lael. And you really don't need to be this tense. At this rate, you'll break into a dragon dance just to change the subject."
Lael paused with rice still in her mouth, her dimple appearing as she held it there before chewing. She set her meal aside, wiped her hands on the silk cloth laid upon the table, and pulled the dress from her lap back toward herself, taking a few steps away from the table.
"You speak of it as if it were so simple. That breaks my heart. I wish it were you presenting this to the queen instead of me."
Noa shook his head firmly. "Heaven be my witness, I would never wish for that. You've been weaving over this for days. Your eyes are bloodshot from examining every tiny detail. I'm certain nothing will go wrong."
In the great nation of Solvaris, where the act of artists creating works through their freedom of expression was seen as the whisper of demons, artists were cast out from society and forced to form their own community— the Freedom Garden.
In Solvaris, the gods were regarded as the ultimate authority. Therefore, in the capital city of Golden Divinity, where the royal palace stood, everyone —noble or commoner alike— accepted the teachings of the gods as the absolute truth.
One of the gods' teachings was that every individual reached true physical and spiritual maturity only after the age of twenty-one.
Although the age of adulthood was recognized as eighteen throughout the country, the gods believed that genuine maturity could only be attained at twenty-one. Because of this, in Solvaris, a person's twenty-first birthday held great significance.
Especially when a member of the royal family was about to turn twenty-one, preparations would begin months in advance, and ceremonies and celebrations would be held across the nation.
The prince of Golden Divinity was also set to turn twenty-one in three months— and the preparations had already begun.
From the moment she began sewing the dress, unease had claimed Lael's heart. A few weeks ago, the queen had sent word through the people that she wanted a beautiful yet simple garment for her son's twenty-first birthday.
Since then, every tailor who wished to rise in standing and serve the palace had presented what they could craft. Yet no word had come that the queen had approved any of them.
Today was the final day. By evening, the dress had to be chosen, and rumors had already spread that the royal seamstress had prepared one just in case. For Lael, this was more than a chance—it was perhaps the chance to have her name known as a tailor.
And yet she was anxious, even frightened. Though it was an opportunity, if her dress was not chosen, people might think twice before asking her to make another. She was the only tailor in Freedom Garden, and in truth, everyone knew the queen was waiting for her.
"You know, I've never had confidence in myself, not once in all these years. People like the garments I make, and seeing the joy on their faces is what binds me even more deeply to my work. It's no longer just a trade I practice to survive—my art is what makes me who I am. If approval from the palace means I can bring my art to more people, then of course I must put all my care into every detail of this dress."
As she spoke with such earnestness and sincerity, Noa rested his cheek in his hand, his elbow propped on his knee.
After a moment of silence, he said, "You've put that same care into every dress you've ever made, my lady."
"Lael, Noa… Call me Lael."
—
Lael frowned at the young girl before her, who kept bowing and apologizing over and over. Unlike the girl—whose dress was muddy and soaked, and whose appearance was quite unkempt—Lael herself looked remarkably clean.
She had tied her light brown hair into a neat ponytail, using the jade hairpin inherited from her mother to gather her bangs at the back of her head.
She wore a garment of her own making, in a tone that matched the jade hairpin. White cranes were embroidered across the green fabric of her dress.
Dangling from her ears were jade earrings that matched the hairpin; the teardrop-shaped green beads were held by fine golden chains.
"Please, tell me you're joking," she said, pressing her hand to her forehead and rubbing it.
At her side, Noa held the umbrella, angling it so that Lael was fully covered and wouldn't get wet—even though it meant he himself was being soaked.
Knowing this, Lael kept pushing the umbrella back toward him, trying to make sure neither of them got wet. But every time, Noa tilted it once more toward her.
The girl shook her head with a tearful expression, gasping for breath. Just then, a small child ran up to them and clung to the young woman's legs.
The young woman pulled the child close and took his hand before speaking.
"My lady, I truly don't know when my younger siblings left the doors open, but our entire house has been flooded. Under these circumstances, there's no way I can accompany you to capital, the palace."
Her face clearly showed how embarrassed she was because of the situation she was in.
After glancing anxiously at both the girl and Noa, Lael murmured, "What are we going to do now…"
The young woman was someone Lael had paid to wear her dress and present it to the queen. It was a requirement.
The queen wished to see how the garment looked on another woman—not lying flat on the ground with its sleeves spread open. That was why all the garmentmakers paid young women with delicate faces and graceful figures to wear their dresses before presenting them to the queen.
"My lady, I can pay you back—"
Before she could finish the phrase she had already repeated countless times since morning, Lael raised her hand in front of her.
"Please, stop. There's no need, it's alright."
She reached into her dress and pulled out a purse filled with coins, holding it out to the girl.
"Use this to get a new home. And please, visit me sometime so I can make a dress for you."
Her eyes briefly fell on the woman's mud-stained dress before meeting the tension written across her face.
When the young woman's gaze met Lael's again, she began apologizing once more, but Lael bid her farewell with only a few short words and started off with Noa in the opposite direction of the palace.
As Noa hurried to keep up with Lael's quick, unthinking steps, he called out,
"Lael. Aren't we going to the palace?"
Though she heard him, Lael only quickened her pace. But when a bolt of lightning struck a tree just a few meters ahead, she jolted in place and was forced to stop.
"My God, did I do something to offend you in a way?!"