The Tailor's Bride | Trenderman x Reader

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 | 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝙷𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚗

A honeymoon was a stretch of what actually happened the following days. If someone were to ever have their honeymoon in a market, any sane person would call them insane.

However, seeing the two hooked arm to arm looked normal. Trender almost felt dragged: the woman always seemed to know where she was and where she was going. All he had given was a short list of adequate items. This woman knew where to go to find the cheapest yet the best items. A stand with apples for a gold coin? On the other side of the market were brighter red apples that were only 2 silver for 3.

Clearly, she shopped with a budget. Trender had to stop her multiple times to say he didn't mind spending a bit of money for food: it was a necessity after all. But that short while of spending a little more than necessary, they were back to going back and forth for cheap and decent.

Trender had to admit: it was quite the adventure and most seemed to recognize (Y/n). Of course, everyone knew him too, just not the way they knew his wife.

Whenever (Y/n) introduced him as her husband, there was always a mix of relief, confusion, and disbelief. Yet, no one said much for Trender to get any truth. Perhaps he would just have to ask his bride.

Even with everything: the friends, the big relief, and everyone telling her that she must be happy, she didn't smile once. One of the merchants told him not to be offended, but then laughed it off and said that he was sure Trender knew why already.

He had never been one to really care about people's pasts, but this was his bride and he felt left in the dark. Her attitude, their attitudes, the way the noble had acted. Something was wrong, and he began to ponder if she was an assassin.

'No.' He thinks, watching her small hand weave through the leafs of unbroken corn before seeming to get a gut feeling and picking it. 'She holds too much fear.'

Adding corn to the basket, Trender watched her eyes as they suddenly sparked with delight. He remembered this look from the morning, when she complimented his food.

"See something you like?" He asked, catching her off guard. (Y/n) jumped before quickly shaking her head.

"N-no, husband..." she muttered in response.

"You needn't be afraid. It's not unusual to enjoy a treat." Trender tried to soothe. He still didn't understand this paranoia. His wife proceeded to bite her lip and cautiously lead him to a very high priced stand.

'ᗪᖇᗩᘜOᔕᗩᑭᑭ', the sign read. Trender didn't recognize the name, but in the corner of his vision he saw it. His wife, the small, frightened, little stoic thing she was: smiled.

Her delicate little fingers brushed against the petals of a rather large flower. It's petals were thick and white, the pupil of the flower purple, the veins green. The leaves a marble of purple and green with yellow tips.

"These are Dragosapps, they're very rare and grow two kingdoms away. My mother used to grow them, they're very important to our culture. A whole bush of them could cost as much as a small home in the noble district."

There was something about the way she spoke and that small smile on her face that made Trender's chest tighten. Glancing at the sign he saw it was 50 gold coins for a flower.

"Two please." He said sternly to the clerk, tossing down a heavy sack of gold. Before (Y/n) could register what happened, she was being lead away and out of the market holding both jars of Dragosapps.

The whole way home, her mouth stayed agape, opening and closing like a fish out of water. So much to say, not enough composure to say it. Instead, she could only assist him in putting the newly purchased items away.

"Well, I have business I must attend to. If you need me I'll be in the sewing room." Trender excused, leaving her to her thoughts.

So she found herself wandering the halls once more, lost to her mind. She thought about her "wifely duties" and wondered why nothing of the sort has happened: not even a slap.

*******************************************

"(Y/n)," Trender called into the house. "(Y/n), I require your assistance."

Walking further into the house, Trender found himself in the kitchen, his wife standing there wide eyes and staring at him. Trender was confused, had he frightened her?

"Is everything alright?" He asked, coming to her side. Her skin flushed darkly now that he was so close to her and she adverted her gaze and swiftly asked for forgiveness.

"I-I'm sorry. I-it's... th-that's the first time you've said my name... u-usually my mast— I-I(!) th-thought husbands called their wives something else!" He listened as she quickly swapped her words, but he still understood. His theory had been correct and a part of him was angry.

"So you were a servant—"

"S-slave..."

"What?!" His voice raised dramatically and his tendrils released, (Y/n), in a moment of fear, staggered back and her hand went toward the flame, swiftly burning her hand. Thankfully, not enough to have a long lasting effect. "Oh my! I'm so sorry!"

(Y/n) released a sob and when he moved forward to assist her, she put her arms out to block. Trender froze, realizing the damage he caused was because of her last home. She was definitely a slave and that made him angry.

As he tended to her hand, as she sobs, he thinks of the fear in her eyes and then the pain. He hadn't meant to cause this and would try to find a way to make it up to her, but for now she needed to calm down.

The bandages did not look nice around her hand. She was trembling still, looking down at her lap as silent tears rolled down her cheeks. Trender sighed, but before he could speak: she spoke.

"I hope you're not upset with me." She began. "I'm sorry for following this lie, but I beg of you please don't divorce me just so I can be taken away again."

Trender stared at the woman, surprised by her words. There was silence, he couldn't find his words, but there was so much he wanted to say. After a while she cleared her throat and barely looked at his face.

"Wh-what was it you needed my help with...?" She asked, rising from her seat. Trender finally found his words again as he tried to think of a way to expand upon what he was originally was going to say.

"Uh... I've finished your evening gown for tomorrow, I just need you to put it on so I can see if it needs any adjustments." Trender explained, rising and guiding her to the sizing room.

The dress went a little past her feet, but that wasn't a problem. Other than that, it needed a bit of tightening around the waist and he fixed the sleeve. With her body so close to his he finally took the chance to apologize. He placed his hands gently on her waist and leaned in as he examined themselves in the mirror.

"My deepest apologies for causing you to burn your hand. It is just that... slaves are illegal and I am deeply sorry for what you went through. I was just upset that they've disgraced us once more." Trender explained, watching as her flushed face, softened in surprise and understanding. "As for our relationship, we will remain married and if there is anything to happen, you will be moved to a safe location and given enough money to live comfortably."

(Y/n) sucked in a breath and nodded, her eyes closed and for a moment: there was no arrangement. This was just a loving, sorrowful touch from her husband. And yet when she opened her eyes once more, that all went away and she was just some scared girl trying to survive.