Chapter 2
2. The Place of the Knot
The outfit for His Majesty Aleksanteri’s birthday celebration was finally complete.
As I tied off the last stitch of embroidery, making a small knot before cutting the thread, a wave of satisfaction welled up inside me.
I had already finished my own dress earlier, so now both of us would be able to attend His Majesty’s birthday celebration properly attired.
Overcome with joy at its completion, I hugged His Majesty’s frock coat close for a brief moment—then, realizing it mustn’t wrinkle, hastily released it.
The time I spent making our garments was stolen between lessons for my consort training, but even that wasn’t enough; I often continued working late into the night before going to bed.
When I checked the clock, midnight was nearly upon me.
I placed the finished clothing on the dress form, cleaned up my needles and threads, and finally slipped beneath the covers.
In my dream, little Garne was watching closely as Cecil sewed.
Cecil—me—was teaching him.
“When you finish sewing, you tie it off with a knot. It looks cleaner if it doesn’t show on the front, so usually we make the knot on the back.”
“Then why do you tie yours on the front, big sister?”
“You’re still very small, Garne. If I made the knot on the back, it might feel scratchy against your skin. I don’t want you to get hurt or irritated, so I make the knot on the front—and turn it into part of the design.”
As I explained, Garne looked up at me with those sparkling pomegranate-colored eyes.
“So you put the knot on the front just for me?”
“That’s right. For little ones, comfort comes first.”
I had sewn many outfits for Garne and embroidered them as well, but for him, I designed everything so that the seam allowances would not touch his skin—placing the seams outward instead, covering them with embroidery, and even making the knots visible on the surface as part of the decoration.
Children’s skin is delicate, and hidden knots or seams can easily cause itching or irritation.
In this region, it was customary to design clothes that way for children too young to attend school.
Garne was six, the usual age for starting school, but since he wasn’t from this area, he couldn’t attend. Despite that, he was remarkably intelligent—already reading and writing fluently, nothing like an ordinary six-year-old commoner.
Still, his skin was pale and translucent, his coloring so light that he almost looked fragile. That was why I took such care to make his clothing soft and gentle to the touch.
Tracing the blue vine pattern of the embroidery with his tiny fingers, Garne touched the small knot resting at its very edge.
“This one, right? The knot?”
“That’s it. When it’s on the front, it doesn’t rub your skin.”
“Yeah! Thank you, big sister.”
Seeing the delighted boy repeatedly stroke the embroidery, I felt glad that I had taken the extra care.
When I awoke, the memory came back to me—the placement of the knot.
Normally, one would hide the knot on the reverse side so the embroidery’s beauty could stand out.
But I had instinctively placed my knots on the surface.
Perhaps it was a habit left over from my days as Cecil.
At breakfast, I decided to ask His Majesty Aleksanteri about it.
“If it was a blue vine pattern, surely there were others like it. Why was it, then, that when Your Majesty saw my embroidery, you thought of Cecil?”
“Because Cecil always tied her knots on the front of my garments. She turned them into part of the design, so that you wouldn’t recognize them as knots at first glance. The handkerchiefs that Lacey embroidered and sold to the shops were done the same way—the knots visible, yet disguised as ornamentation.”
So it was true.
His Majesty had seen the same unique style—the knot brought to the front—and that had convinced him there was a connection between Cecil and me.
“You said that during my debut, you felt it was fate. What exactly did you mean?”
“When I first saw you, I thought you resembled Cecil. But above all, your voice was nearly identical to hers.”
“My voice… was like Cecil’s?”
That was news to me.
I had heard that one’s own voice sounds different to oneself, transmitted through the bones of the skull.
The voice I heard as Cecil had only ever been my own voice within a dream, so I’d never realized how similar it might have sounded.
“The moment you looked up and our eyes met, Lacey, my heart was stolen. My first love was Cecil—but perhaps my second love was you.”
Back then, I had been poor.
I’d only ever worn dresses I made myself, using inexpensive fabrics.
My hair received only the barest care, and I hardly wore any makeup.
Since I would be greeting the Emperor himself, my mother had lent me her lipstick—but I had no idea whether it suited me.
To think that His Majesty would fall in love with that plain, timid version of me…
“I was so nervous I couldn’t even look properly at Your Majesty’s face,” I confessed.
“I remember wanting to rush down from the platform and go to you,” he said. “But I was bound by my station and cursed it for holding me back.”
At that debut, I had been engaged to Lord Renan.
Honestly, he was dreadful—a vile man who looked down on me and insulted me constantly. I hated even remembering him.
If His Majesty hadn’t known about my engagement then… who knows what might have happened?
If he had proposed to me right there at the debut, I might have fainted from sheer shock.
Even when he did propose to me later, at the graduation party, I could barely believe what I was hearing. It all felt like a dream—too unreal to sink in.
Eight months have passed since then.
Life in the Imperial Palace has gone by in a blur—swift but filled with moments that seemed to stretch far beyond time.
“Your Majesty, I’ve completed the outfit for your birthday celebration. Please try it on during tea this afternoon.”
“I look forward to it, Lacey. Did you tie the knots on the front?”
“No, on the back this time.”
For a man of His Majesty’s age, visible knots would seem odd and unrefined, so I answered that way. He chuckled softly.
“What a pity. I like the designs where you hide the knots in plain sight.”
“Even if you like them, Your Majesty, I cannot display them at a public event.”
“No one would notice.”
“But I would.”
I wanted His Majesty to wear only the finest garments on such an auspicious day.
When I said that, he smiled—the delicate hue of his eyes tinged with a faint rose, as if lit from within.
“Thank you, Lacey, for making my clothes. I once asked Cecil to do the same—to keep making my garments even after we grew up.”
But that wish of his for Cecil could never be fulfilled.
At only sixteen, Cecil had died shielding His Majesty.
Now, I could carry on that wish in her place.
“Then I will continue making Your Majesty’s clothes for as long as I live.”
“That makes me very happy, Lacey.”
“If possible, I’d like to sew not only formal wear but your everyday clothes as well.”
“Won’t that be too much work?”
“If I pace myself and sew little by little, I’ll be fine.”
When I reassured His Majesty, he smiled in relief.
“Then I’ll hold you to that. I’ll get to wear your clothes for the rest of my life. I’m truly fortunate.”
“Yes, I’ll make them for you—always.”
Cecil had wanted to become a seamstress but never had the chance.
I couldn’t become a seamstress in the same way, but as His Majesty Aleksanteri’s personal tailor, perhaps I could fulfill that dream in her stead.
That thought filled my heart with quiet warmth.
