“I’m just the messenger, you know?” the attendant carefully reminded me for the fifth or sixth time since we left the battlements with him.

“I heard you,” I replied, storming my way through the halls so that my boots clicked angrily across the floor as he and Vernie struggled to keep up.

A dressmaker’s waiting for me? This has to be somebody’s idea of a bad joke.

I envisioned yards of fluffy lace crammed into oversized puffballs of gaudy nonsense. Or perhaps a tight-fitting dress that leaves little to the imagination. Maybe even a corset, because isn't that what designers do? Come up with the most outrageous outfits for the most extravagant events? But I don't wear dresses. Yes, it’s personal, and I don’t begrudge anyone who wants to wear them. They're just not comfortable for me. Too flashy, always highlighting certain aspects of my body that I'd rather ignore. I mean… maybe someday, there might be an occasion to wear one, but today was definitely not that day. It’s too much, trying to make sure they don’t show things they’re not supposed to. Things other people find… weird. Repulsive.

With a bold, dramatic flourish, I defiantly swung open the towering double doors to my opulent chamber. As expected, a tall and formidable woman stood before me, her white hair tightly pulled back into a severe bun. Standing with her arms crossed over her chest, she raised a single eyebrow, her dark eyes taking me in while her thin lips pressed together in disapproval.

I attacked preemptively. “I don’t know who sent you, but you should know I never wear dresses.”

“Yes, so you’ve said so many times before, Captain,” the woman sighed wearily.

I hesitated on my second strike. “Have we met—”

“Remove your armor and disrobe. Everything goes except the hachimaki,” she commanded as she held out a cotton slip. “Put this on so I can take measurements. Your uniform may need some adjustments.”

“Uniform?” I echoed, disconcerted with how the conversation was going.

Her nose wrinkled as she shook the slip in her fingers. “Every question you ask wastes my time, Captain. I charge His Majesty by the quarter-hour.”

If she could bill him for her services, then she was more than just a simple servant of the castle. Though conservative and modest, her dress was made of a luxurious fabric that reminded me of what Duke Chadwick often wore. It made a little more sense about how she seemed used to getting her way. This wasn’t just a dressmaker… though no one is just their occupation.

“What about me?” Vernie chimed in from behind.

The matron's gaze slowly shifted to her. “There aren’t enough hours in the week to work with whatever’s going on with you.”

Instead of getting upset, Vernie simply laughed and tossed her head back. “It’s been a long time, Cybill. You’re older than ever!”

Cybill shoved the slip into my hands and pushed me behind a paneled dressing screen. “The same can be said of you. I can see your crow’s feet from here.”

Vernie shook her head and plopped onto one of the small couches. “You’re imagining things because that bun is twisted so tight it’s pulling on your brain.”

As I begrudgingly followed Cybill’s instructions, I couldn't help but grumble under my breath. The two women chattered back and forth effortlessly, their quick-witted quips echoing through the room. Vernie’s laughter increased, but the matron’s tone stayed serious. I was the only stranger here, yet the dressmaker felt so familiar…

“Are you ready yet?” Cybill asked impatiently as she started to come around the changing screen.

“Don't look at me!” I cried out, crossing my arms defensively.

Undeterred, Cybill stretched out a cloth measuring tape between her fingers. "I have to measure you to do my job, Captain. Now, hold out your arms so we can get started."

I knew it was a reasonable request, but I was in no mood for reason. “I can't do this! I can't...”

With a heavy sigh, Cybill dropped her arms and swiftly rolled up the measuring tape. "This isn't about dresses or measurements, is it, Captain?" She placed a surprisingly comforting hand on my shoulder and pulled the discarded brown cloak from the corner of the screen. "Let's have some tea and talk about it."

As I pulled the cloak back on, I heard Vernie open the door and step out into the hallway, presumably to find someone to fetch us some tea. I stepped back out from behind the changing screen and sat at the nearby table, resting my forehead on its surface with a sigh. Cybill took a seat next to me.

“So, what it is you think you cannot do, Captain?” she asked pointedly.

“…Everything,” I mumbled.

“Of course, you can’t. You are one person,” she advised. “But there is something specific on your mind.”

“The banquet,” I admitted. “And social interaction in general. And having everyone recognize me. And acting like I can fix the world’s problems.”

“Your speech is absolutely atrocious now,” she commented. “Whatever happened to completing your sentences?”

I pulled my face from the table so I could glare at her. “Listen, lady, I don’t know who you are, but—”

“Oh, it’s been many years since someone has called me that,” she laughed, returning her hand to my shoulder consolingly. “But more importantly, why would you start acting that way now if you never did in the first place?”

“Vernie…” I tossed my head towards the open door. “Vernie said I should say things like… the light has returned to pierce the darkness.”

“Yes,” Cybill agreed. “That one would work very well.”

“But isn’t that just me saying how I’m going to fix every—”

Cybill raised an eyebrow. “Are you the light?”

“Well. I do glow at times… It’s sort of inferred… isn’t it?”

“Is it?” she questioned again.

“I think…”

She clasped her hands and put them on the table. “But do you know?”

Wasn’t I the one saying it? “Well, I…”

“You could be referring to many things. Dawn breaking through the night. A relit lamp illuminating the darkness. Maybe you mean both. But nowhere in that statement did you promise that you can fix the world’s problems.”

“But they’re expecting me to!”

“Yes. That’s the real problem. Trying to meet their unrealistic expectations,” she replied, motioning at a young girl who had just peeked her head through the door. “Just leave the cart here, dear. I’ll see to its return.”

“So how do I—”

“You don’t. You manage them with vague responses, and you move on. It’s not like you owe them anything. Don’t let their petty problems become yours.”

It finally dawned on me who she reminded me of.

Mother.

I stared openly as she poured the tea with practiced ease, making everything seem simpler, more manageable—as if she’d had this conversation many times before.

“You’re having trouble coming home,” she advised calmly, placing a teacup on the saucer before me. “Because you can never come back to the same place you left. However, not everything has changed. The nobility here is still quite benign; they’ll have an uneducated opinion on everything you do but not enough wherewithal to take any action in response. There will be food and drink to keep them entertained well enough, and after you’ve quelled their curiosity, you take your leave.”

I quietly mulled over her advice as I blew on my tea.

“Honey,” she said as she pointed. “As much as you like.”

No one can go overboard on honey, at least in my teacup, but I reined myself in after just one good dollop. I stirred it and took a sip, exhaling audibly. “Thank you. This tea is excellent… Chamomile?”

“I would say so.” She nodded, adding only the slightest drop of honey to her own.

“Quelling their curiosity…” I mumbled. “That means getting them to believe I’m really who I say I am.” In some sort of weird juxtaposition, I figured they would want to distance themselves from a great hero; otherwise, they might find themselves having to help out with hard work!

“Your old uniform will help,” she replied with a shrug. “And no one would dare say they didn’t believe it was you in front of King Saulus. Other than that, who cares what they think?”

It made sense, except for just one thing. “Why do you have my old uniform, anyway?”

She shrugged. “You left it here just before your final journey. I preserved it as well as I could under His Majesty’s orders. He was a bit put out that you didn’t say farewell at the time, but I think he knew it was necessary to keep your movements secret.”

“Thank you…” I murmured vaguely.

“You’re welcome, dear.”

“Um… how much do you charge for advice, anyway?” I asked curiously.

“For you, it’s free.” She then glanced at Vernie. “You as well, though I can’t fathom what words would be of help to you.”

“That just means I’m doing great.” Vernie shrugged, downing her drink.

After we finished having and spilling our tea, so to speak, Cybill took me in hand and completed the necessary measurements quickly.

“A few minor adjustments,” she concluded as she opened up a large trunk tucked in a nearby corner. “You’re not any taller, thank goodness, but you did fill out a bit. It’s good to see that you’re not so lanky anymore.”

I coughed. “I ate rather well while I was gone…”

“Continue to do so,” she instructed. “You will need to keep your strength up.”

I took a deep breath. “Um… about my arms…”

“I have some long gloves hanging from the screen if you wish to wear them.”

I nodded, watching her pull out an oversized, multicolor tunic. “Yes, please. Thank you,” I replied, watching her flip the garment inside out as she pulled at different seams. “That’s... quite flashy, isn’t it?”

“You did insist that all holy orders were to be represented on it,” she said as she began stitching, her fingers deftly working the needle faster than I could have imagined.

“Then, you made it, too?”

Cybill smiled. “Yes. It’s nothing special. It’s not blessed or magical. But it’s something you trusted me to create. That’s why I’m happy to see it in service once again.”

Vernie and I watched her sew silently for a few minutes, not wishing to distract her from her art. The soft swish of her needle was strangely soothing, and I finally relaxed into my seat.

After she finished off one last stitch, she flipped the tunic right side out and offered it to me along with a pair of white trousers. “Let’s see how they fit now.”

I stepped behind the screen to change, slipping easily into the garments provided. The trousers were expertly crafted with flap-patched pockets embellished with elegant gold buttons resting at the hips. Much to my relief, my boots slid smoothly over the bottom of the pants. However, the tunic was the true work of art. Its V-shaped collar and half sleeves were adorned with a thick sheen of gold fabric, catching and reflecting any light that shone upon it. A broad white stripe ran down the front, complemented by a glimmering silver stripe down my back, while the sleeves and core of the tunic were dyed a royal blue. I cinched a wide brown belt around my waist before securing it with a delicate golden cord, and completed the ensemble with the black gloves and gold bracelets she had offered.

After stepping out from behind the screen, I asked Vernie and Cybill for their approval. “Do I look okay?”

With a confident smile, Cybill declared, “No, not okay. You are absolutely stunning. And don't ever, ever let anyone tell you anything otherwise.”

“For once, I can agree with you,” Vernie grinned. “It's not just your appearance, but your presence, too.”

A stunning presence? Even without the aura?

I stood a little taller as I considered Vernie's words.

Cybill nodded just once before sizing up Vernie again. “Now, you will wear something appropriate too, won’t you?”

Vernie rolled her eyes. “Of course I will!”

Cybill’s lip curled suspiciously as she headed toward the door. “Show me what you have in mind. I want to make sure you don’t embarrass her… again.”

“Rae-Rae wasn’t embarrassed back then. I was supposed to be the distraction!”

The door in front of them suddenly opened on its own as Nora appeared, gasping in surprise.

“Sorry, I didn’t expect to… Rae?” She peeked around them to better see what I was wearing. “Rae! You look great!”

“Stunning,” I corrected whimsically, placing my hands on my hips. “I am absolutely stunning.”

Nora gave the others a confused glance but nodded fiercely. “Yes, that too! You go, girl!”

In that moment, surrounded by a practical trifecta of confidence, I made a silent vow to myself. It would be challenging, but I was determined to embrace those spoken words, regardless of the clothes I was wearing. I may have a long way yet to go, but I have come far already.