Isabel Past

Chapter 7

As the days passed and the ceremony loomed closer, Isabel felt a knot of anxiety tighten in her stomach. The incident with Sonia had left her feeling not only defeated but also unsure of herself. How could she attend the ceremony, where everyone would be gathered to celebrate Nicolas, wearing a dress that didn't feel like her own? It was a daunting thought, and time was slipping away.

Determined not to let Sonia's triumph over her affect her spirit, Isabel decided to take matters into her own hands. She couldn't bear the thought of wearing a gown that had been tainted by someone else's victory. **Maybe if I find a dress somewhere else, I can reclaim a piece of my own happiness**, she thought, even if it felt like grasping at straws.

With Sarai by her side, Isabel set off to a small town outside their kingdom. The quaint little place was charming, with cobbled streets and blooming flowers that softened the air. They wandered through the narrow lanes, peeking into small shops and boutiques. Despite the town's warmth and charm, Isabel felt an overwhelming sense of urgency. **What if I can't find anything? What if I end up without a dress for the ceremony?**

After hours of searching, they stumbled upon a modest boutique tucked away between two larger shops. The shop had a worn wooden sign that read "Adeline's Attire," and the delicate chime of a bell rang as they entered. The interior was cozy, filled with fabrics of every color and texture. Isabel's heart raced with hope as she scanned the room.

But after trying on several dresses, her excitement began to wane. None felt right; they were either too plain or didn't fit her the way she envisioned. Just as she was about to lose hope entirely, the seamstress, a kind-eyed woman with silver-streaked hair, noticed Isabel's frustration.

"Wait a moment, my dear," she said with a warm smile. "I think I may have just the thing for you." With that, she disappeared into the back room.

Isabel and Sarai exchanged hopeful glances. Moments later, the seamstress returned, her arms cradling a stunning gown. It was a passionate red, reminiscent of a sunset, with queen-style sleeves that flowed elegantly. The gown sparkled with beads and glitter, adorned with tulle that shimmered as it caught the light. A delicate train cascaded from the back, giving it an ethereal quality.

"This, my dear, is a special piece," the seamstress explained. "It's designed for someone who wishes to make a statement."

Isabel's breath caught in her throat. She could already picture herself wearing it at the ceremony, turning heads and leaving a lasting impression. **This is it. This is my dress.** She felt a surge of emotion wash over her, a mix of relief and excitement.

"I'd like to try it on, please," Isabel said, her voice tinged with anticipation. The seamstress nodded and quickly ushered her to the fitting room.

As she slipped into the gown, the fabric felt like a dream against her skin. The sleeves draped elegantly over her arms, and the train flowed beautifully behind her. She gazed at her reflection in the mirror, her heart racing with delight. It was everything she had hoped for and more.

However, her smile faltered as she noticed the gown was too loose around her waist. The seamstress came in to adjust it and frowned slightly, her brow furrowing with concern. "It's a stunning dress, but it seems you will need some adjustments. I'm afraid I can't guarantee it will be ready in time for the ceremony."

Isabel's heart sank. "But I love it! Is there any way you can rush the alterations?"

The seamstress looked hesitant, her eyes darting toward the busy workroom behind her. "I can try, but with so many orders to fill, I'm not sure it will be possible."

Desperation clawed at Isabel's heart. She could already envision the ceremony and the moment she stepped into the ballroom, her confidence restored. **What would happen if I couldn't wear this dress?** The thought made her stomach churn.