TBCOS 39

Chapter 39…

“Ah, allow me to guide you.”

Molin, visibly tense, led Ellie into the tailoring room.

Inside were cutting tables, various fabrics, mannequins — the entire room was filled with tools of the trade.

“These are the fabrics…, these are the needles, these are the spools…, here’s the embroidery section…, and these are the dress patterns….”

Molin was a tailor, not a tour guide.

Her explanation grew a little rambling and disorganized.

Even so, Ellie was intrigued by everything she saw for the first time and paid close attention.

“Wow… How do you make clothes out of all this?”

Thankfully, the princess didn’t ask how much the fabric cost, or the thread, or the embroidery work.

Realizing that this really was a tour and not an inspection, Molin began to relax.

Encouraged, she picked up a needle and demonstrated with swift, practiced motions.

“So first you mark the cloth with this, then cut, like this…, attach lace here, and it becomes pretty, see?”

“Wow!”

In an instant, Molin’s skillful hands created something that already looked like a dress.

To finish an actual gown would take an entire month of all-nighters, but a small demonstration was easy enough.

“That’s amazing!”

Ellie was genuinely awed by Molin’s almost magical handiwork.

The tension in Molin’s face eased into a smile at her reaction.

Even without her memories, the princess was still the same.

Her endless fascination and love for dresses!

Even if she had once secretly diverted some of the budget, Molin’s love for dressmaking itself was absolutely real.

“I actually came up with some ideas for the coronation gown myself…”

“I want to see!”

Of course, that’s exactly what Her Highness would say.

Excited, Molin hurriedly fetched her design book.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about it the past few days, so I made some sketches.”

And there wasn’t just one design.

The coronation gown was the pinnacle of splendor.

It would likely be the most magnificent dress Ellie would ever wear in her life.

The only one that might rival it would be her wedding dress — but that was a matter for the distant future, and Molin might not even still be working then.

So, this coronation gown would be the masterpiece of her lifetime.

“I poured everything I have as a tailor into these designs! I tried to imagine every possibility.”

Ellie flipped through the pages one by one.

Each design was dazzling, glittering, and utterly beautiful.

Even without expert knowledge, Ellie could tell they were made with great devotion.

“How are they?” Molin asked carefully, her tone quietly expectant.

Princess Ellia never hesitated to praise dresses.

Her pure, childlike compliments always delighted Molin.

And on top of that, Princess Ellia had excellent taste and expression — not like adults who pretended indifference, nor a fool who couldn’t tell true beauty.

“They’re all so pretty!”

“Thank you.”

But Molin waited for more — surely there was more to come?

Something like:

‘If I wore this dress to see the flowers, I’d look like a flower myself! The petals are so big and lovely!’

‘This dress looks like dewy grass! If I walk, it feels like the dew would sparkle and fall!’

Those adorable, imaginative compliments of Princess Ellia’s!

“Hmmm…”

But though Ellie’s eyes sparkled as she admired the designs, she didn’t say the words Molin was hoping for.

“Uh, Your Majesty…” Molin’s face went pale.

Surely not. She didn’t even want to imagine that worst-case scenario.

“…You don’t like any of them?”

Ellie examined the design book once more, then gently closed the cover.

“…No.”

She lowered her head gloomily.

“!”

Thunder rumbled over Molin’s head.

She said no, but that reaction clearly meant yes — she didn’t like them.

Impossible. The day would come when she couldn’t make a design that suited Princess Ellia’s taste?

“Is there something you don’t like? I can revise anything! Please, just tell me!”

“They’re all nice… they’re all pretty…”

“Yes, but—?”

And then… nothing. Just but.

Molin waited attentively.

Ellie finally murmured her dissatisfaction.

“…They don’t look strong.”

“…Huh? Excuse me?”

Molin blinked, unsure she heard correctly.

Did the princess just say strong?

Not shinier, not flouncier — strong?

“Yeah. I’m the king now!”

“R-right, yes, of course!”

At last, Molin understood the request.

Of course! A king couldn’t wear the same kind of clothes as when she was a princess!

Even if she was still a child, as the king she had to look grand, imposing, and dignified.

“Then how about this — we could add silver thread here to create a radiant, halo-like glow. Everyone will look up in awe.”

“Hmm…”

“Or perhaps we could stiffen these frills to make them sharper and more structured — that would add a sense of authority.”

“Hmmmm…”

Ellie listened carefully, nodding, but her expression didn’t brighten.

After a long pause, she asked cautiously:

“Hey, could you maybe make something other than a dress?”

“? Of course. Dresses are just the hardest to make.”

Every tailor had their specialty — some excelled at men’s suits, others at pajamas, or even undergarments — but the hardest of all was definitely the dress.

And Molin, a royal tailor famous for her gowns, could make anything.

“Then there’s something I want you to make!”

Ellie’s face lit up with excitement.

Ah, so she saw something she liked somewhere.

No matter what it was, Molin was confident she could make it with her own hands.

“Yes, anything you wish!”

“Armor!”

“…Excuse me?”

Molin’s confident smile froze.

“A–armor?”

“Yeah! Armor is clothes too!”

Ellie beamed brightly.

Ar-mor — technically still clothes you wear.

Molin fell silent.

Her confidence that she could make any clothing quickly deflated.

Now that she thought about it, there was indeed one thing she couldn’t make.

Armor.

“But… you’re planning to wear it for the coronation, aren’t you?”

“That’s right!”

“…Armor? For your coronation?”

“Uh-huh!”

“…But there’s no war.”

There had been a few kings who wore armor at their coronations.

But those were unusual times — ceremonies held in the middle of dire wars when the previous king had died suddenly and there was no time to prepare. The new king would simply don armor, put on the crown, and immediately ride back to battle.

But now? Why?

“So other countries won’t dare to invade Nerendis if I look scary!”

“Ah… uh… well…”

Molin glanced helplessly toward Lady Laval.

Lady Laval lowered her eyes silently.

When it came to clothing, this wasn’t her area to intervene.

“Well…, but even so, a dress would be flashier and more attention-grabbing. The gown’s splendor shows off the nation’s power—”

“Dresses don’t look strong!”

Ellie was firm.

Her love for dresses had faded fast. Wearing them every day made them feel ordinary. The excitement she once felt as a princess was gone. They were uncomfortable, too.

And besides, she’d been trying not to obsess too much over dresses anymore.

“Still, armor’s a bit much, so… ah! What about a pantsuit?”

“…Pants?”

Ellie’s ears perked up, turning to Molin.

Now that was something different. You wore pants in battle, after all.

And when she’d lived with her brother in the forest, she’d worn nothing but pants her whole life.

Even when she begged to wear a skirt like a princess, she’d only layered it over her pants.

“Yes, a pantsuit styled like armor — with ornate decorations. Oh… and we could add a cape for grandeur, flowing like a gown!”

What began as a desperate attempt to talk her out of armor was quickly turning into a surprisingly good idea.

Indeed — as the princess said, a ruler who looked strong and brave was far better than one who looked like a delicate flower.

Molin couldn’t make actual armor — but she could make a suit that looked like it.

“…!”