WHISPERS OF A BUTTERFLY • Kamisato Ayato

eight. 八

"Lady Hiiragi, would you prefer your wedding dress to be woven from chiffon or charmeuse? Or will crêpe do?"

"What kind of question is that? This is the High Commissioner's bride-to-be, she shan't wear anything as cheap as chiffon," sniffed Ogura Mio, the owner of the textile shop. She ran a white-knuckled hand through her scalp, stress lines creasing on her face as she compared two virtually identical fabrics. "Forgive her, Lady Hiiragi. She's new around here."

You were standing on a podium, dressed in little except your undergarments, as three seamstresses took your measurements. You obediently stood still while your mother and Ayaka sat in chairs at the side, quietly conversing. Surrounding you, along with the scent of fresh mimosa petals wafting in the air, were arguably the most expensive kimonos in all of Inazuma.

You'd barely been in here for half an hour, but piles of tester cloth were already ankle-deep scattered around your feet. In front of you was a grandiose mirror where you blinked at your reflection. Your mother had insisted you spared no expense and went all out with your attire. You could only get married once in your life.

After all, Ayato insisted on paying for everything.

"I say we start from scratch. Her evening gown should be made of mikado, hand-woven from only the most expensive silks in Liyue," the other seamstress said. "Secure a slot from the Feiyun Commerce Guild. Tell them to send textiles from their finest silk flowers."

"No, no," Ogura Mio said. "Half-stitches snag the fabric on such fine silk, it would be such a waste to not have her wear embroidery for the evening kimono."

The other seamstress agreed. "Definitely, such high viscosity silk ought to be worn in the ceremony gown."

"Ceremony gown?" Ayaka repeated curiously.

"There are three gowns, dear," your mother explained, scrutinizing the fabrics being held up to your arm. "One before the wedding, one for the ceremony, and one for the reception. It's tradition."

"Chisato thinks I should wear purple," you told your mother. "To symbolize my pride to Inazuma and Her Excellency."

"Chisato is not the best at making decisions." Your mother's nose wrinkled, like she couldn't stand the fact you were listening to her words of advice. "To think she passed the hand of the High Commissioner for the disgraced Kujou boy."

Your cheeks warmed with embarrassment. You saw Ayaka's head tilt in puzzlement, wondering what your mother meant. The last thing you needed was for your future sister-in-law to think that you were taking advantage of her brother.

You immediately lied, "His status among the Tri-Commission means nothing to me. Ayato asked for my hand because we are in love."

"Yes," your mother said fondly, "and that's why your marriage will be far superior to that of Chisato. Having you meet the Kamisato clan early on proves that you had a fine upbringing. It prevented you from falling in love with a disgraced family."

"Need I remind you," you said coldly, "that we are from a disgraced family as well?"

"Water under the bridge, my dear." Your mother dismissed your tone as a bride's paltry woe. "Now, are the measurements finished? You need to start picking out your closet for your honeymoon."

The anger in your head evaporated faster than it had taken to heat up. You repeated her last word once, twice, before your eyes quickly darted from your reflection's grimace to your mother's serious face.

"How many will you need? Two or three kimonos per day should be enough, how many days are you planning to be away? With how busy Lord Ayato is, it might be only a week or so."