Chapter 292: Just a good time
There was a lot of swirling and twirling in that beautiful dress. Arabella wasn’t allowed to take it off. Not by Mr Kallum, but by the swarm of girls that had grouped around her, chirping and cooing with little stars in their eyes.
Mr Kallum retreated and sat at a safe distance away from that hen house and watched, only distracted from time to time by the munching sounds that Remus made while cramming the cooked meat in his mouth.
"So?" Abigail simpered, hands clasped together against her own chest, "What will it be? Will you have this same exact model, or do you want modifications on it?"
"There are some minor changes that I’d like done here and there," Arabella pinched at the skirt of the gown and inspected more of it as if she hadn’t seen it all, "The silk this dress was made with is great, but I think I want a different one," there was that distant, yet serene look on her at those words.
"May I ask the difference between these types of silk? Is the variance in quality that high?" Ada sat upon the cushy arms of one of the sofas.
"No. It has nothing to do with quality," her smile grew warmer, "It was simply the same kind of silk my mother’s wedding dress was made of,"
"Oh! How lovely!" Gloria had her hands on her heart as she spoke softly.
"Would that be wise?" a more... Rigid tone rose in the room, coming from the door.
"Astrid?" Eleanor gasped.
The serious and collected demeanor of Astrid clashed with the overall prevalent mood in the room. In her hands, the maid carried a tray holding multiple cups of tea.
"Why do you ask if that would be wise, Astrid?" Arabella skipped to the chase.
Astrid walked deeper into the room, past the girls and placed the tray down on one of the empty tables there.
"I come from a small village where wedding dresses are quite sacred," she stood tall, her voice steady, "From a very young age, we are taught that no woman should ever aspire to make her dress similar to another bride’s, no matter how small the resemblance, lest it’d bring about more than her memory and joy,"
"Oh, I see," Arabella smiled sweetly, "Thank you for sharing that thought. Although, I have to say that where I come from, it is quite different," she looked down at the dress, then towards the mirror facing her, "In the capital, it is very common for brides to model their dresses after preceding princesses’ and queens or even their mothers,"
"I see," Astrid looked down but did not seem abashed, "I did not mean to sour the mood. Pardon my unsolicited advice,"
"Don’t fret about it please," Arabella shook her head, "I always welcome advice even when I don’t always apply them,"
"That is wise," said Astrid.
"But what brings you here Astrid?" Soraya interjected, "I didn’t peg you for the kind to enjoy this sort of ambiance,"
"What kind of person did you peg me for?" Astrid’s gaze was piercing, her eyes only blinking when necessary.
Arabella believed, from her whole heart, that based on the very little she’d seen of that young woman, Astrid was going to rise to the role of head maid next after Arumina. She had the nerves and the composure for it.
Soraya found no answer and thus, the topic shifted towards something else when Astrid turned to Abigail.
"I know this is neither the time nor place, but have you spoken with her yet?"
Little Abigail seemed to shrink three sizes smaller as all eyes in the room fell on her.
"Like you said; it is neither the time nor place, Astrid," she twiddled her fingers and broke eye contact, her mind no doubt focused on stopping steam from escaping her facial pores.
"With whom does she need to speak?" Ada’s eyes narrowed, but the amused air on her gave her state of mind away.
"With no one!" Abigail squeaked.
"With Miss Arabella," Astrid’s tone remained controlled.
"With me?" Arabella’s full attention fell on Abigail who seemed to wish her head could be buried among the floor tiles, "Please, speak up. Whatever it is, you should feel no shame in saying it,"
"I... Well, it’s...," the maid stammered, uttering not a single coherent line, "May we leave it for another time? Please," she pleaded.
"Yes, of course," Arabella nodded profusely, "Whenever you feel comfortable speaking,"
"Pardon me for derailing the conversation once more," Astrid slightly bowed her head, "I simply know that if I didn’t make mention of it in front of everyone then Abigail would have never dared to approach you,"
"Then you did well,"
The smile Arabella offered was warm since there was much of it coursing in her to give. The small yet kind gesture that Astrid made for Abigail was the sweetest.
While it’d seem cruel that she exposed her in that sort, it was clear it was out of concern.
In Arabella’s mind, looking out for a friend like that should always be praised.
The masculine voice that rose throughout the room whisked their attention towards Mr Kallum who had just cleared his throat, "Perhaps we may proceed with the rest of the designs? What say you, ladies?"
"Oh! Yes!" Arabella chirped, her face further lighting up, "Pardon us for taking such time,"
"That is not what I meant," he shook his head, "In any case, I don’t have any other place to be until dawn so, you may take your time,"
"Still," Ada chuckled, "You may still rest the sooner we finish up,"
"I love this dress!" little Remus finally spoke up, but only once done with his food, "It suits you so well!"
With a sweet giggle, Arabella walked over towards him, picked a clean cloth and knelt down to softly wipe the aftermath of his meal on his face.
Upon turning around, the young woman noted a solemn and tame expression on Ada as she watched her interaction with the boy.
Arabella did not inquire and allowed the look to vanish as quickly as she’d glimpsed it.