"May I ask what you are making?" I pry as I study her fingers seam the cloth by hand. The fabric is black leather from the trades of the Land of Darkness, something I don't see her tailor in her free time. She is always creating pieces of clothing that are as white as the celestial heavens, and would only work with black fabrics if she is tailoring the kings's clothes. So this is quite peculiar of her I couldn't help but examine.
Cécile peeked up at me without breaking her form with the needle in her slender fingers. Suddenly her cheeks glows a rosey red and she smiles. "I wanted to make a new pair of combat boots for you. I remember seeing you looking at a pair at the Bazaar."
I chuckle at her whole-heartedly and place a firm hand on her shoulder, stroking my thumb reassuringly on her skin. "It's fine. I don't want you to feel like you must serve me, for you are special to me. You don't have to make me stuff. "
"Telling me not to make you anything is like telling me not to show y