On the streets of Falworth, it was common to find the notorious couple, Albert and Abigail, walking arm in arm while decked in their best outfit. They embodied class and fashion but had an unaffected manner that drew you in, making them near impossible to miss on a crowded street. It was on this day that they were taking their customary turn about the town square, walking with no destination in mind, only wanting to see and be seen.

“Don’t worry, Abby, I’m working on it,” Albert said in a hushed tone as they passed the barber on their left and the bakery on their right.

“I know I can trust you, dear,” Abigail replied jubilantly.

Removing his dapper hat, the sunlight cascaded on Albert’s bald head, adding a proper glow to his already glowing disposition. Albert looked up at the sky as he put his hat over his heart and was met with cheerful clouds and a cerulean sky.

“Such a serene day. I think something good is going to happen.”

A quiet murmur reached their ears among the throng of shoppers, sweethearts, and joy-seekers. They were all looking at and talking about something Albert and Abigail couldn’t quite see. Ever attuned to the slightest shift in any and all social settings, Albert paused their walk and surveyed their surroundings to discover the source of the buzz.

If something interesting was happening in their sleepy town, Albert wouldn’t rest until he discovered it. Abigail and Albert shared a look and turned back to back, each scanning their half of their surroundings. Albert scanned, scanned, scanned, and then…. Ah! He smiled and then pursed his lips as though in thought.

“My love,” Albert tapped her shoulder as she turned to face him. “Look!”

With Albert’s direction, she spotted a man’s tall physique as he desperately wove around the gawking townsfolk.

Abigail raised her eyebrows, “There’s a man with a mission if I ever saw one.”

The Royal Commander walked briskly, his green eyes fixed on the ground in an effort to avoid those who passed by. Theo felt his burning embarrassment increase with every whisper that surrounded him.

Well, at least they’re not calling me the Stoic Commander now, he thought bitterly. Though, I have a new wave of rumors to contend with.

As the townsfolk enjoyed rubbernecking at Theo’s expense, his shoe caught the corner of a loose brick on the path.

“Oh!” One foot stumbled after the next, but he managed to regain his balance before providing any more fodder for gossip. However, his cheeks grew redder with every step. He had to get through the town square, then he’d be able to breathe again—away from the callous remarks of those he labored to protect.

“This is bad,” Albert said, watching him with pity. “But he’ll be fine. Let’s resume our walk, dear.”

What am I doing? Theo groaned to himself.

It was an understatement to say he was off his stride between the presentation and the declaration of war he got from the Yarn Spinstress. Despite all of Yuki’s praise for the Spinstress, Theo had yet to meet her—and if her letter was any indication, they weren’t bound to be fast friends.

Forgetting about his spectators, he stopped in the middle of the street and rubbed his eyes, recalling Yuki’s ridiculous misunderstanding regarding her letter. How Yuki came to such a hair-brained conclusion was beyond him. Thinking back to the actual contents of the letter, he moaned.

“How does this even involve her?” He asked out loud, wondering why she wanted to meet with him. He wasn’t accustomed to satisfying the whims of strangers, but her promise of intel enticed him to comply.

Theo slowed his pace as he neared the Golden Threads workshop. It was dingy, but something about it held a charm as if the building itself held secrets and stories from days gone by. Though the cottage itself was old and tucked away from the town center, the owner took exceptional care of the vines and foliage that surrounded it. Theo took one deep breath, steeled himself for whatever was to occur, and rapped on the faded yellow door.

A minute passed by with no response.

After checking his golden timepiece, he was certain he arrived at the requested time. He shifted his weight, anxiously waiting for someone to answer the door. After a few more knocks and lengthy waits, he felt a wave of agitation roll through him.

What type of person demands another’s presence but fails to show up at the appointed time?

After a brief internal battle, he decided to peek inside. “Excuse me. Is the Yarn Spinstress in?”

No one responded, but a breeze gently greeted him.

A breeze?

Surprised, Theo pressed tentatively further into the workshop. “Hello? Miss?”

The workshop was quite compact, allowing him to easily scan the entire room from the door. His eyes were instantly drawn to the back door, which was propped open by a sizable rock. He walked gingerly through the workshop, hesitant to startle her.

“Miss?” he called out as he traipsed into the outdoors, letting the unkempt grass brush his ankles. He took a few more steps and then felt his feet turn to stone at the lovely sight before him.

From a few meters away, he spied a young lady in a sage green dress sitting upon a stump by the creek, absorbed in her sketchbook. Something about her tied-up hair looked oddly familiar. Do I know her? he wondered. Taking another step forward, he called again.

“Miss Yarn Spinstress.”

“Oh!” The Yarn Spinstress whipped around her head toward her visitor, her flaxen hair swinging. Theo parted his lips in shock as they met eyes. The Yarn Spinstress that Yuki praised, and the Yarn Spinstress who wrote him such a commanding letter, was the last person he expected.

“Miss Emaline,” he stuttered out.

“You’re here,” Emaline stood up from the stump and brushed her dress off absentmindedly. “Gracious, I apologize for losing track of the time.”

Emmy appeared entirely composed, but Theo was anything but. He recalled the day she had smiled at him and dried him off from the rain. Suddenly, it all came together.

Of course, she’s the Yarn Spinstress! She was carrying that basket of the threads, you fool. Theo couldn’t believe his poor luck.

Groaning inwardly, he faced Emaline. “Forgive me. I was quite ignorant of your occupation.”

Emmy laughed lightly and walked toward him, sketchbook in hand. She had thought this on the first day they met, but he had a gentleness about him. Though she had appreciated it before, it now was a source of confusion for her. Who was the real Theo Radcliff? Remembering her brother, she crossed her arms, raised her chin, and looked him in the eye.

“I was also unaware of your occupation until the presentation.”

Theo’s attention, however, was not on her face but on the sketchbook she was holding in her arms. To her surprise, she had failed to close the sketchbook, allowing him a glimpse at her art. He blinked and furrowed his brows, not hearing a word she said.

“Is that Prince Yuki you’re sketching?”

“What?” she asked, confused at the sudden change in conversation. Quickly realizing her error, she snapped the sketchbook shut. She could feel the heat rushing into her face. Though sewing was her main pursuit, she often sketched her designs and sometimes sketched whatever was on her mind. She did it almost subconsciously.

“It’s not important,” she countered, defensive, “I’m here because of my brother, Turrin. I don’t know what kind of person you must be to punish someone before the matter is looked into—”

“Wait—”

“I’m not finished. I haven’t the smallest idea how the pocket square came into your possession, but I am the one who made it. But I had no intention of using it against you, and I have no motive to warrant such a malicious action. By my best estimation, it was a simple mistake.”

Theo could feel an irritation growing inside him as the back of his neck began to ache, “A simple mistake?” he asked, his voice laced with restraint.

“It must have been sold by accident alongside the rest of my goods at the market on the morning of the presentation. It’s the only logical conclusion. Whoever bought it would not have known what properties it was given. I didn’t imbue any of the goods with magical qualities, and I wasn’t at my table the entire time. As you know, a mistake is entirely plausible.”

Her theory made sense, but it was just a theory. It was just as likely that someone, namely Turrin, had set him up. Besides, his pride wouldn’t allow him to believe the whole affair boiled down to a silly mistake. No, he had good reason for taking action.

“Your brother was the only one not accounted for, and he admitted to being in the quarters.”

“Did you offer him a chance to explain?”

“Of course, I’m not as ill-mannered as you seem to believe.”

“Until the answer is clear and proper evidence has been presented, you have not done your duty to investigate this matter with the integrity your position demands.”

Her pointed words resonated, each one assaulting his conscience. He hesitated. Perhaps he had played the victim. Perhaps the evidence he rested his judgment on was nothing more than coincidence. Still, he couldn’t allow himself to give in to her pleas.

Theo cast his eyes upon the ground as silence fell between them, each second like a heavyweight. In the stillness, a slight breeze kicked up around them, causing the trees to sway and the leaves to rustle. Emaline’s countenance softened as though soothed by the breeze caressing her cheek.

“I do not wish to speak so harshly to you.” Her eyes peeked up at him, more tentative than before. “However, if something is wrong, it must be set right, no matter how uncomfortable it may be.”

Who was this pillar of strength who appeared before him? She spoke with such determination, such conviction, and yet he felt understood. He couldn’t help but be jealous of Turrin. What was it like to have a family that came to your aid, no matter the circumstances?

“I apologize that my actions have caused you pain,” Theo said at last, “There is a weight that accompanies my title. Not a weight of prestige but a burden to earn the respect of the knights and the nation. In my earnest desire to protect that reputation, I may have rushed to point the blame. Though I can’t honestly tell you that Turrin is innocent, I promise to look into the matter more fully.”

Emaline breathed out a slow sigh of relief and tilted her head up toward him. “Thank you.”

With the tension between them easing, they briefly discussed the weather and other trivialities before Theo took his leave. The discussion left them both weary, but only one of them frazzled. As Theo walked back toward the palace, he scoffed, remembering how Yuki had accused him of a tryst with the Yarn Spinstress.

“How absurd,” he said to himself.

After Theo left, Emmy returned to her favorite stump and rested her face upon her palm. She had let her temper get the better of her. He was simply a wounded dog, lashing out in fear, not a malicious beast.

Still, Emmy refrained from telling him about the true nature of the tomfoolery stitch. It simply revealed the childlike nature within rather than making its object respond in a certain way. Perhaps that bright smile he displayed at the presentation was living inside him, eager to make an appearance once again. She flipped open her sketchbook and turned the page with Yuki. She paused before flipping it over to reveal a rough sketch of Theo smiling brightly.

“Ahh,” Emmy sighed. “Tomfoolery indeed.”