"You're offering my eyes a precious sight."
Those words pulled Lael out of the well of her thoughts. Her eyes widened, darting to her shoulder where the breeze from the open window brushed against her skin.
Realizing she was presenting this sight to the prince, she hastily pulled her dress back up. Staring at him —his arms folded, chest muscles accentuated— she furrowed her brows.
She parted her lips several times, searching for the right words, but had no idea how to address a noble properly, or how to frame her sentences.
"Why… do I have to take it off?" she asked, her eyes filled with unease.
In response, the prince's smile only widened.
"You must remember the promise I made to my mother. I told her I would send her the dress I liked— but right now, it's on you."
As he spoke, he stepped closer, taking hold of the fabric at her waist where it fell toward the hem, examining it closely.
Their bodies neared, and though Lael instinctively wanted to retreat, the alluring scent that came from him kept her rooted. She could only stare at the piece of cloth in his hand.
Sensing her feelings, the prince chuckled softly, lifting his gaze from the fabric to meet hers. For a fleeting moment, Lael thought she saw golden waves ripple in his dark brown eyes. Yet the illusion shattered at the sound of his next words, spoken in a silken tone:
"Are you keeping my mother waiting because you wish for me to remove your clothes myself?"
Lael showed her unease at the question by lifting her shoulders and tugging the fabric out of his hand.
Their hands brushed in the motion, and the warmth of his skin sent a spark-like wave through her, forcing her to take a few steps back.
"No… I'll take it off right away," she blurted out in a moment of poor judgment, her eyes darting quickly around the room.
It didn't seem possible to remove the dress without exposing herself to the prince's gaze. Pressing her lips together, she furrowed her brows.
The way she kept whipping her head left and right so quickly had already made her neck ache.
The prince, well aware of what she was searching for, simply watched her expressions with quiet amusement, twirling the end of his tied-up hair between his fingers.
"You must enjoy making garments," he said.
Still scanning the room for a 'safe' spot, Lael gave a small nod without meeting his eyes. The prince, clearly pleased with her answer, let his hand fall back from his hair.
"Then are you aware," he continued, his voice calm but weighted, "that from today onward, you'll be the prince's garmentmaker?"
Before Lael could respond to that, the meaning of his previous question finally sank in, and a ripple of panic spread through her chest.
She wasn't usually this absentminded, yet ever since she had laid eyes on the prince, the pale shade of blue that sometimes tinted her world had deepened into a vast ocean she felt she was drowning in.
Within that ocean's depths, she thought she glimpsed golden treasures gleaming far below—but she had no certainty what discoveries awaited if she swam deeper.
What she failed to realize was that, deep down, she was beginning to let this unknown feeling take hold of her and that she was secretly enjoying the excitement that stirred in her heart.
The prince could tell she was drifting off somewhere again, but since he enjoyed watching her, he felt no need to say anything.
He thought Lael's long, light brown hair suited her skin perfectly. Rather than the value or beauty of the dress that wrapped around her body, his gaze was fixed on the jade earrings dangling from her ears.
He hadn't really examined the dress at all, in truth.
The only thing that had carved itself into his mind was the desire to hold Lael's fabric-clad waist in his hands.
Prince Axiel Valeris —who, until now, had always managed to obtain whatever he wanted— found himself unsettled. Ever since their hands had brushed, the tingling at the tips of his fingers was something he had not expected.
After what felt short to the prince yet long enough, Lael finally managed to speak a few words again.
"Your Highness… How do you know I'm a garmentmaker?" she asked. How could she have possibly given that away?
"And I..." placing a hand over her chest before pointing at him, "I'm going to be your garmentmaker?"
She didn't believe herself skilled enough to serve a noble personally. That was why she asked—not because she hadn't understood what the prince said, but because she couldn't believe it.
The prince did not delay in answering her string of questions, her tone a blend of shock and doubt.
"My words about you being the garmentmaker were nothing more than a guess," he said, stepping closer.
He took the ends of Lael's light brown hair between his fingers, drawing them gently toward himself. Before touching her, however, his dark brown eyes locked onto hers, as if seeking permission.
"It was only a guess that you were the one who sewed the dress— but not because you are not a young and beautiful woman. I guessed it from where your eyes wandered."
Though the prince's words slipped from his lips quickly, each one seemed to dance with the others before reaching Lael's ears.
As his touch stirred tingling sensations along her body, Lael's gaze dropped from his eyes to his lips.
"Your eyes must see garments as precious jewels. When you lifted your hair and spun to show the dress, I understood. You don't aim to reveal the beauty of the dresses, but the beauty of the people they embrace. That is why I want you to serve me."
After hearing the reason behind his wish for her to serve him, Lael felt a dryness forming in her throat.
She couldn't understand how the prince could read her heart so easily.
How could he have so effortlessly unraveled the very reason she had longed to be a garmentmaker and had stitched her dresses with such joy for years?
It also struck her as suspicious that the prince would place so much trust in someone he had only seen for a few minutes.
Was it truly possible for him to grasp all of this merely from her movements—or from the look in her eyes?