CHAPTER 21YILENA’S P.O.VI'm Marcus,” the new Taillieur Petit Mains introduced himself to me as I focused on pricking the pricking board in order to create the new bobbin lace design one of the clients had chosen.It was quite an ordeal hearing a human voice disrupt my focus, “Can you please not," I said, trying my best not to sound rude."Ah, I'm so sorry. I truly didn't mean to break your concentration," Marcus replied quickly, his hands instantly raising in a defensive, apologetic gesture. His voice dropped to a sheepish, deferential murmur, clearly recognizing the gravity of interrupting a lace-maker mid-stitch.Instead of retreating back to his own designated workstation across the room, he quietly dragged a nearby three-legged wooden stool over. He set it down just a few inches from where I stood, easing himself onto it with careful deliberation so the wooden legs wouldn't scrape harshly against the floorboards.I didn't say anything to him. I couldn't afford to. My attention w
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