Every single day I sit here and dream of the same thing. As I thread my needle with each new string, that is me packing my bags and closing my shop, saying goodbye to this mundane life and walking through those city gates to a great beyond. As I stitch each thread and bind the cloth, each action is another step in my dreams which leads me down the great road and somewhere well over the horizon.
I should feel blessed to be so in demand. The low born seamstress to which even the king and queen are patrons. Known throughout the land for my speed and skill, my garments are always a perfect fit as though by enchantment. But I am always in demand, and my face is well known. This is the trade into which I was born, for which I have a natural talent through what mother used to call my ‘swift and nimble fingers’.
The wedding dresses are the worst. Followed closely by the clothes of others invited to the wedding. While the men seem hesitant and happy to have whatever garments I have already adjusted to their size, the bride and her maids often want the impossible. A dress that is long and short, white and blue, with flowers and veil and showing neither, or not much of them. Worst of all is their insistence that they do or will fit a smaller size at least come the big day. I have come to lying about size just to end the vanity.
But I wonder what that beyond would bring and what I might one day see. And every stitch I place it becomes ever clearer and more possible. Perhaps I will visit far away relics of ancient cities, I think as I add a rose to the neckline. Perhaps I will stumble upon ancient treasures unseen by the world since the Gods were at war, I dream as I add gemstones to the sleeves. Dreams which I hold so close to my heart’s core.
There may be a way to end this. As I place yet another dress on my mannequin I consider hiring a smuggler, if I can find one. If they can move items under the noses of guards looking for them then surely they could bring me. In between my stitches and measuring, I will make something else. Something I will be glad to make for the first time in so long. I will make common robes and a patched cloak, the things I will use simply to escape.
This trade is a curse to me. I have a wealth which could not have been dreamed of, even by my own parents, rest their souls. But there is nothing to which I wish to apply that wealth to more than to not have this shop and home. I want to see the world beyond, but the queen and her daughters would surely have me hunted and brought back to work. All this coin and talent and all I wish to buy is another face and a home on the road.