The collar prototype was finally ready after three days of hard work by Alina and the women of her sewing circle. Satisfied with the result, she brought it to Austin's study.
He was at his desk, reading dispatches, when she entered. His gaze immediately dropped to the collar in her hands.
She put it on his desk, without a word. He picked it up and examined it thoroughly, turning it in his hands, testing the stitching and the weight.
"This is better than what we issue," he said.
"I know."
"You've solved a problem the quartermaster has been ignoring for years."
Alina crossed her arms.
"The quartermaster has been ignoring it because no one in his office wears the collars. The soldiers do, and no one asks them."
Her words were simple, but they carried weight. Austin put the collar down and looked at her.
"You want to meet the soldiers?"
