The three of us had designed my wedding dress together. It would have large pearls scattered across the bust and seed pearls embroidered with silver thread in a floral pattern on the skirt. The veil would be adorned with pearls too, sprinkled about in various sizes to resemble stars in the sky.
I was concentrating on my work in silence when a scream rang out.
“O-Ow!” Mrs. Molière exclaimed for the nth time that day. Apparently sewing wasn’t her forte. I’d lost count of how many times she’d pricked herself with her needle.
“Julietta, after this many times, you must be used to it, no? Please be quiet!” my mother-in-law complained. Not that she was much better—her hands were covered in bandages too.
As it turned out, both sisters were terrible at sewing.
“You’re very good at this, Miss Francette,” said Mrs. Molière.
“Indeed,” said my mother-in-law.
“No, it’s nothing special...” I definitely wasn’t skilled enough to be praised, but the sisters seemed to think I was.
“I’m sorry for being so clumsy,” Mrs. Molière said with tears in her eyes.
“It’s fine,” I said. “Everyone learns at a different speed.”
“You’re such a sweet girl, Miss Francette!”
Progress was slowing down, so I suggested we take a break. Tea and guimauves were promptly served.
“Mrs. Molière, these are the Lakeside Duck Bakery’s new guimauves,” I said. Nervously, I waited for her to try them, unsure if they would suit the palate of someone who had sampled the large variety of sweets the capital had to offer.
“Oh my, what a beautiful color.”
I explained that they were made with berries from Triste, and she peered at them with great interest. After popping one into her mouth, she broke out into a broad smile.
“Why, it’s delicious! The sweet and tart flavor reminds me of the berries I ate as a child. Our family would have berry desserts made for us every year, you see, and I loved all of them.”
“Triste’s berries are more acidic than those from other regions, but when you make them into sweets, they mellow out into just the right balance of sweet and sour,” I remarked.
“Yes, indeed,” said my mother-in-law. “The sweets made from local berry puree are exquisite.”
I was relieved that they both liked the guimauves. Judging from how quickly they devoured them, they seemed to have been craving something sweet.
“I’m shocked by my lack of dexterity, though,” Mrs. Molière lamented.
“As am I, Julietta.”
The sisters sighed deeply in unison.
“We might not make it in time at this rate,” said Mrs. Molière.
“I dread the very idea of it,” said my mother-in-law.
I’d heard that my mother was skilled at this kind of work, but I couldn’t possibly call her over.
“Perhaps we should enlist help from Nico, Rico, Coco, or Constance,” I said.
The sisters disagreed with my suggestion.
“Miss Francette, the wedding gown must be decorated as a family,” my mother-in-law replied.
“Yes, Maria is right!”
I loved the servants as if they were family, but apparently, that didn’t count as far as tradition went.
“Wh-What about having Gabriel help, then?” I asked.
My mother-in-law crossed her arms and frowned. “He is good with his hands like his father was. However...!”
“However?”
“I do not want him to find out about my gracelessness!” My mother-in-law clenched her fists and gave me a pleading look with her bloodshot eyes. “You may think it’s a trivial thing to lose self-esteem over, but he’s the one person I don’t want to see me like this.”
“O-Oh.” I didn’t think Gabriel would say anything about her lack of sewing skill, but perhaps this insecurity was a result of their complicated mother-son relationship. “Um, how about having Wibble help, then?” I didn’t know if the slime was capable of sewing, but it was certainly extremely talented.
“Does Wibble know how to sew?”
“I’ve never asked, but it’s helped me with cooking and cleaning before, so it might be able to.”
My mother-in-law and Mrs. Molière looked at each other for a second before nodding.
“Wibble is family, so I think that would be fine,” my mother-in-law said.
“Let’s have it help since Maria and I are of no use,” said Mrs. Molière.
And so, we called Wibble to the workroom. The sisters ran up to the slime, startling the poor thing.
“Wibble, we need your help!” my mother-in-law pleaded.
“Please, Wibble!” Mrs. Molière exclaimed.
“Huuuh? What’s wrooong?”
We explained the situation.
“Ohhh, okay!” The wise slime understood immediately. “Wibble will try to sew!”
“Thank you,” I said.
And so, I taught Wibble how to sew.
“This is how you thread the needle,” I explained. “And this is how you stitch. It’ll be easier if you follow the diagram for the design.”
For some reason, my mother-in-law and Mrs. Molière were also listening intently and nodding along to my lesson. Perhaps it hadn’t been an issue of dexterity but of having never been taught how to sew properly. At any rate, everyone seemed to gain a better understanding of it.
Wibble transformed one of its tentacles into a needle, skillfully picked up the thread and a pearl, and began to sew. “Like this, Fra?”
“Yes, that’s perfect.”
The slime’s eyes lit up with glee—as did the sisters’.
“I’ve gotten better at it!” my mother-in-law exclaimed.
“Me too, Maria!”
“You’re all doing great,” I said.
“Yay!”
I couldn’t thank Wibble enough for easing the tense atmosphere.
The slime was even better at sewing than I’d expected. At some point, it began manipulating countless needles at once with its tentacles. Anyone who didn’t know what was going on would probably think a slime was attacking the dress. It was a terrifying sight, but the embroidery was progressing with unbelievable speed—the slime’s movements were so fast that I found myself worrying.
“W-Wibble, isn’t it difficult to work so quickly?” I asked.
“Nope, it’s really fun!”
“That’s good to hear.”
✦ ✦ ✦
I’d expected the dress to take us about a month, but thanks to Wibble, it was done in no time at all. The finished bridal gown was placed on a mannequin for us to inspect.
“This is my wedding dress...” I murmured.
Its beauty rendered me speechless. The lake pearls Gabriel and I had developed shone atop the pure-white dress and long veil. I was so proud of the wonderful wedding ensemble we’d created together.
“Mother, Mrs. Molière, and Wibble, thank you all so much,” I said.
“That’s our line,” said my mother-in-law. “Right, Julietta?”
“Yes! Our incompetence had me fearing the worst at first,” said Mrs. Molière.
The sisters were more than satisfied with how the dress had turned out.
“You also made our childhood dream come true, Miss Francette,” Mrs. Molière added.
“Yes!”
They both seemed very happy. I was sincerely glad that I hadn’t given up on the pearls.
Mrs. Molière gently lifted Wibble and nuzzled her cheek against it. “We also have to thank Wibble’s amazing contribution.”
“Yup! Wibble worked hard!”
“We aren’t finished yet, though,” I said. “We still need to sew pearls into Gabriel’s wedding attire, albeit not as many as mine.”
“Yes, let’s keep at it,” said my mother-in-law. “I don’t know if pearls will suit that boy, though.”
“It’ll be fine!” said Mrs. Molière. “Gabby is beautiful just like you, Maria, so the pearls will look great on him!” As she spoke, she held a pearl up to her sister and gave an approving nod.
Since Gabriel’s outfit required less work, the three of us completed it without Wibble’s help. We sewed pearls along the area where his boutonnière—a decoration worn on the lapel—would go and the buttons of his shirt.
After three days of hard work, the wedding outfits were complete.
In the afternoon, I was visited by Emilie and Solene. Since I had asked them to be my bridesmaids, we were going to hold a meeting to discuss matters.
It was their first time meeting each other. Solene was surprised to hear that Emilie was the ogre duke, but she didn’t show any signs of feeling intimidated. Her experience serving a variety of customers at a pastry store was nothing to scoff at. Emilie quickly grew fond of the cheerful Solene too.
I showed them the wedding outfits that had just been completed.
“Wow, they’re so pretty!” Solene exclaimed.
“They’re even better than I imagined, Miss Francette,” said Emilie.
Their eyes sparkled as they gazed at the garments.
“You’re going to look gorgeous in this, Francette,” said Solene.
“I can’t wait for the wedding,” Emilie said.
“I have to work, so I won’t be coming to Triste until the day before the ceremony,” said Solene.
“I’m not sure of my plans yet, but I may be able to come earlier,” said Emilie.
“Thank you, Lady Emilie,” I said. “That’s reassuring.”
I let them know that my mother and sister would be visiting as well.
“Your mom’s a former imperial princess, and your sister’s the Empire’s current crown princess, right?” Solene asked.
“Oh gosh, I’m so nervous!” Emilie exclaimed.
“It’ll be fine,” I said. “Don’t worry.” If anyone was going to face their wrath, it would be me. I wanted Emilie and Solene to relax and enjoy their stay in Triste.
The bridesmaids’ meeting had mainly been an excuse to have a pleasant chat over tea and sweets, and that was exactly what we did.