Novel & Cerita It's A 10 Silk

Lily glanced over her shoulder, to see Bonnie approaching her with a long cloth tape measure in her hands. “It's amazing,” Lily said. “This color. I've never seen anything like it.” “It's the silk that brings out the color,” Bonnie explained. “This silk is from France. There's a special area there where they harvest it. The area is small, though, meaning only a certain amount of silk can be obtained every year. What you're holding in your hands right now is quite rare, but obviously quite beautiful.” Lily suddenly felt like she was holding something as valuable as the Queen's crown. She carefully put it back on the hangar and hung it up.

I finally replied and with a smile, he took off his hat as he two boys brought out two horses from a stable. The first horse emerged, a majestic brown creature with a scar tracing down its face and adorning its legs. A distinctive white strip adorned its tail, accentuated by streaks of black. As it ambled into view, its mane, a rich brown hue, swayed with each leisurely step. The horse's eyes lazily fixed on me, and its lashes fluttered rhythmically, warding off the persistent flies that buzzed around.

"No!" I stared at my reflection in the full-length mirror in front of me, checking again if there was anything wrong with my appearance. The dress I was wearing was a dress made of number one silk, jet black in color, with very thin gold thread shadows forming a scattered rose pattern. The dress was made in an A-line shape that widened below the knee, with a sleeveless Sabrina collar and a gold silk obi that formed the waist. The handbag and shoes I was wearing were made as a set with the dress, covered in gold silk fabric with variations of black lines.

It was incredibly soft, lighter than silk, but it possessed a strange, heavy weight that told me it would drape perfectly over every single curve of a woman's body. "It is woven from the high-mountain spiders and dire-wool," the old woman explained, watching my face. "It takes a year to make. We weave a new one for every Luna who takes the seat." I picked it up by the shoulders and let it unfold. Irina scoffed loudly behind me. "Look at it, Seraphina. It is completely indecent." I ignored her and examined the cut. My mother wasn't entirely wrong about the indecency, but she completely missed the point.

I place the three designs on easels for their perusal. Queen Catherine walks between them, studying them carefully, followed by Elizabeth, who does the same. I walk along with them to point out all the distinguishing features. “The material will be radzimir silk,” I explain. “It was a favorite of Queen Victoria’s. The style will be a floor-length A-line gown with a high neckline and long, fitted sleeves.” Elizabeth scans it briefly with an unreadable expression. “What if it’s windy that day? We all have to march in the presentation on the way in and out.”

I manage to reply. Ro looks at the box cautiously as he has also observed the other women receiving some and then he rolled his eyes. "I guess Lady Horatia wants to mark a new generation of galas with this one." I chuckle. "I am not refusing this gift," I tell him jokingly as I pretend to pull the box away from him; he smirks and shakes his head. I untie the bow that wraps around it; is a sapphire silk fabric that is soft and delightful. The box is made of wood, but it was previously dyed in black. I slide the silk away but keep it in my hand because it is too beautiful to waste.

"I'll be fine." She stepped outside and I walked slowly through the racks, running my fingers over silks and satins. Not far to my left, I saw a gown that made me stop breathing for a second. It was midnight blue with an asymmetrical neckline and the most intricate draping I had ever seen. The fabric flowed like water, and the way it was constructed, I have never seen tape used like that to create such clean lines. I reached out and touched it. The texture was incredible. Probably silk charmeuse with an underlayer of some lighter fabric.

"I know that too." I crossed to the bed and unzipped the bag. The dress was even more precisely calibrated in person than it had looked in the photograph. The fabric was silk crepe, the specific weight of it that fell against the hands like liquid, cool and impossibly smooth, and the red was not the red of cheap polyester or costume jewellery. It was deeper than that, richer, the red of something that had been considered, chosen with intention, selected to do a very specific job on a very specific kind of man.

Nikolai liked his women to be ornaments, not architects. "Let me see them," I said. My voice was raspy, but steady. She laid out the silks. Emerald, deep navy, and a crimson so dark it looked like drying blood. I ran my fingers over the fabric. The texture was exquisite, but the weight was wrong.

It was light and smooth, and I already knew what to say. “Silk blend,” I said. “Slight bias stretch. Best suited for mermaid drapes or cape elements.” I looked up and smiled. “We used a similar weight in our 2020 Monaco commission, if I’m not mistaken.” Her lips tightened. I continued, all sugar and steel. “Right, that's what I thought.” I said. “But I’ll still watch your demo. After all, there is always room to learn.” Another small shift in the room. A few pens stopped moving. A couple of notes paused mid-scribble. They were starting to see what I’d come back as.