Agnes
“Hold still, please,” I muttered around a mouthful of pins as I adjusted the hem of the golden dress. It was nearly finished, but these final touches would make all the difference.
Lena stood patiently on the small pedestal in my workroom, arms slightly raised to avoid disturbing the drape of the fabric. The metallic material caught the afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows, sending golden reflections dancing across the walls.
“Sorry,” she said, biting her lower lip. “It tickles a bit.”
I removed the pins from my mouth and stuck them into the pincushion strapped to my wrist. “I know, but I’m almost done. Just a few more minutes.”
The dress had turned out better than I’d expected. The structured bodice with its overlapping metal plates created an armor-l
