Chapter 08
8. The Sewing Machine
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I was to have dinner with His Majesty the Emperor.
I stood waiting until His Majesty entered the dining hall, intending to kneel and greet him when he arrived, but he took my hand and would not allow it.
“Lacey, you need not kneel to me. It’s just the two of us dining together. There’s no need for formality.”
Since His Majesty sat down, I too sat in my chair.
With his long silver hair, pomegranate-red eyes, and perfectly beautiful features, I could not bear to look straight at him, so I lowered my gaze to my hands.
I decided to focus on eating.
As I had thought at lunch, the meals in this palace were astonishingly delicious. I had imagined that nerves might prevent me from tasting anything, but apparently I was sturdier than I thought; whether speaking with Madam Laval or facing His Majesty, I was still fully aware of the flavors.
The smooth soup, carefully strained; a salad of fresh vegetables; a sauté of white fish without the slightest trace of odor; a beef stew so tender it fell apart with the touch of a fork.
Everything was exquisite.
“How was Madam Laval? Did you encounter any difficulties?”
“She treated me most kindly. She is a cultivated lady, and speaking with her was enjoyable.”
“Enjoyable, was it…? That makes me a little jealous. I only hope you will also find speaking with me enjoyable.”
“Y-yes.”
Jealous? Of what?
Madam Laval is a woman, and married besides. There can be nothing between us.
As for enjoyable conversation with His Majesty… well, not impossible, but hardly easy.
“Your consort education will keep you busy, but I will make sure you have time for your hobbies as well.”
“Thank you very much.”
“Lacey, I have long wished to spend time with you like this. You cannot imagine how elated I am.”
Long wished… to spend time with me?
I did not quite understand.
Surely His Majesty had chosen to make me his concubine or secondary consort simply out of convenience. Yet he spoke as if he had been waiting for me all along.
Since I could not make sense of it, I let it pass. Then His Majesty brought up a request.
“The matter I mentioned in the carriage—about sewing my jacket—was quite serious. Tomorrow I will have fabric and measurements delivered. Work on it when you have the time.”
“About that… I do not have fine silk thread. I am not sure I can make something worthy of Your Majesty to wear.”
“Then I shall provide thread as well. Do you need anything else?”
Anything else.
Perhaps this was my chance to ask for something I truly wanted.
Though only a concubine or secondary wife, I was still to be a consort. Surely it was not out of place to ask for something expensive.
“M-may I have… a sewing machine?”
The treadle sewing machine I had always longed for.
I had never been able to obtain one and had finished everything by hand. Hand-sewing, done carefully, can be as fine as machine work, but I had heard a machine was far more efficient.
The money I earned from poetry collections, sewing, and lacework had all gone to supporting my family, Sophia’s education, and fabric for our clothing. I never had the means to buy a sewing machine.
“You didn’t have one? Then I will purchase it immediately. I’ll arrange for it to be delivered to your room tomorrow.”
“Is that truly all right? They are terribly expensive.”
“My bride is astonishingly free of greed. Instead of asking for jewels, you ask for a sewing machine to make my jacket. I would gladly give you jewels worth many times the cost of a sewing machine.”
“I must decline such things.”
I had no desire for jewels.
A sewing machine would please me far more.
“I am very happy to receive a sewing machine. Thank you, Your Majesty.”
With that, the range of things I could make would expand, and my time be used more efficiently.
If I had owned a machine before, I could have made Sophia so many more dresses. Remembering her made me melancholy.
I had resigned myself to inheriting the Viscountcy of Dian while Sophia would eventually marry elsewhere. I knew the day of parting would come, but I had hoped she might wed close by so that I could always watch over her.
While I was lost in thought about Sophia, His Majesty spoke again.
“I hear the tailor came today to see about your dresses, but you do not yet have proper shoes. Do you prefer low-heeled shoes, Lacey?”
The only pair of formal shoes I owned were low-heeled, so His Majesty assumed that was my preference. I quickly explained otherwise.
“In truth, I longed to wear the fashionable high-heeled shoes. But they were too costly… And Lord Renan told me I was too tall already, and begged me not to wear them.”
The moment I mentioned Lord Renan’s name, the pleasant atmosphere chilled. A line appeared between His Majesty’s perfect brows.
“That foolish man who cast you aside for another woman… Ah yes, he was rather short, wasn’t he. In my presence you need not hold back. Wear the shoes you like. Not so high that you risk falling—but supporting you is hardly beyond me.”
Indeed.
When I wore heels, Renan and I were nearly the same height. But when I stood beside His Majesty, I barely reached his chest. I could wear any height of heel without issue.
I had longed for those shoes but could not afford them, and Renan had disliked them anyway. Now at last I could wear them.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Though only a provisional consort, His Majesty treated me with such kindness.
As I ate the dessert—a tart topped with giant grapes—I was filled with gratitude toward him.
In this country, premarital relations are considered immoral. Yet I was His Majesty’s very first consort, though he had reigned for ten years without ever taking a concubine or secondary wife.
Even during our betrothal period, I knew he would wish for me to conceive as soon as possible.
So when, after dinner, His Majesty escorted me back to my room, I stiffened for a moment.
Would he enter my chambers? Or summon me to his?
“You must be tired today. Rest well, Lacey. Good night.”
“Good night, Your Majesty.”
Yes!
It seemed nothing would happen tonight.
Having survived the day, I entered my room, weary. After brushing my teeth and changing clothes, I lay down. My eyelids grew heavy.
Since morning His Majesty had come to the Dian estate, then we had traveled together to the capital, and at the palace my lessons with Madam Laval had begun. I was utterly exhausted.
Sleep overcame me.
In my dream, I was a sixteen-year-old girl named Cecil.
She resembled me somehow—her love of embroidery, sewing, and lacework all the same.
As Cecil, I was helping in the family dining hall and took a late lunch break.
In the back of the shop, I ate with Garne, a boy staying with us. From the few remaining customers, I overheard some gossip.
“I hear His Majesty the Emperor has been assassinated.”
“The vassal state responsible was severely punished, and His Majesty’s younger brother is serving as regent, isn’t he?”
“The Crown Prince is said to be very young. If only the Emperor’s brother would just ascend the throne.”
Far-off in the capital, storms of unrest raged. Without His Majesty, the people feared more rebellion might break out.
“Big Sis, you look scary.”
“Eh? Do I?”
“Was the food too spicy?”
“No, it’s delicious.”
I had been thinking about the Emperor, so my face must have turned grim. Garne pointed it out.
While eating pasta, he splattered sauce on himself, staining his clothes, and looked on the verge of tears.
“I dirtied the clothes you made for me…”
“It’s fine, they’ll wash clean.”
“But what if the stain doesn’t come out?”
“Then I’ll embroider something over it.”
Garne’s shirt already bore a design: blue vine embroidery, meant to ward off evil and ensure children’s health in this region.
“This is my favorite shirt…”
“I’ll make you another.”
“You will?”
“Yes, I promise.”
Relieved, Garne finished his meal, wiped his mouth, and then shyly asked:
“Even when I grow up, will you still make clothes for me?”
I could not answer at once.
Garne knew nothing of his parents or origins. For now, my family was caring for him, but someday he must return to his family or relatives. My parents were searching desperately, but when he was found, he had only a single undergarment, not even shoes—no clues at all.
“If, when you grow up, I’m still by your side, then yes.”
“Will you go away, Big Sis?”
“It might be you who goes away, Garne. If your parents or kin are found, they’ll be worried sick. We’ll have to return you.”
As I explained gently, his pomegranate-red eyes brimmed with tears.
“I want to stay with you forever.”
But I already suspected that wish could never come true.
Silver hair, crimson eyes—
Such a beautiful child could not be of common birth.
Surely he carried noble blood.
All I hoped was that when his family came for him, I could return him proudly.
