Chapter 19: Heartbeat
In the changing room, Reid stood in front of three mirrors, wearing a sample outfit made from several pieces of coarse cotton cloth sewn together temporarily.
A few plain white fabrics were pinned to his body, and the owner of the tailor shop, Ms. Saville, was frowning, rubbing a brass thimble back and forth on Reid’s shoulder seam.
Custom formal wear was not as simple as just taking measurements; it required a series of complex steps.
Taking measurements was just the first step.
Afterwards, tailors needed to draw the patterns on kraft paper based on the measurements, then create rough prototypes using cotton fabric.
Right now, Reid was trying on the rough prototype.
“Please lift your arm a bit and turn left half a circle.”
Saville’s attitude was very respectful, but a hint of impatience could still be heard in her tone.
This was not a bad thing; on the contrary, it indicated that Reid was in the right place.
This was the kind of arrogance unique to craftsmen who were confident in their skills.
Reid moved his body in cooperation, nodding politely, “Thank you, Ms. Saville.”
The other apprentices held paper and pens, standing around Reid to observe and record the state of the garment in real-time.
This step was mainly to correct whether the previously taken measurements were fitting; if there was a problem, it could be fixed in time.
If the client tried on the finished garment at the end and there were issues, the labor and resources required for modifications would be on a different level.
But no matter how Reid moved, the apprentices’ pens remained unmoving, showing no signs of recording anything.
Saville suddenly stopped her work and sternly scolded the group of apprentices beside her:
“What’s the matter with you? Where are your eyes? Record it!”
The apprentices exchanged glances, and a daring young man whispered:
“But Ms. Saville… there’s really nothing that needs changing.”
“Nonsense!” Saville snatched the notebook away, “Even when making clothes for Princess Isela, there should at least be five adjustments during the first rough fitting!”
Measurement data couldn’t possibly be accurate from the start and would definitely require multiple modifications.
Even if Saville measured personally, she couldn’t achieve perfection—at best, it would reduce the number of changes needed.
Moreover, the person who took Reid’s measurements was not even an intern; she wasn’t even a tailor—just a noble young lady playing around.
It was taboo for outsiders to guide professionals!
Please don’t challenge my expertise with your hobby!
Saville sighed inwardly, but after all, the person was a member of the Noval Family, and she couldn’t afford to offend them.
Well, it’s fine; at most, it will just mean more modifications later.
After being reprimanded by Saville, the attitudes of the apprentices noticeably improved; their eyes were glued to Reid, as if trying to scrutinize every detail of the outfit.
But their pens for recording defects didn’t move an inch.
“Step aside, I’ll do it myself; you all watch intently!”
Seeing the apprentices dawdling, Saville’s temper flared, but she still patiently pointed out to a few apprentices:
“These areas are key—observe if the shoulder line drops naturally, if there are any excess wrinkles in the lower back, and if there’s any pulling sensation when the sleeve rotates…”
But as Saville’s gaze fell on these areas she had just mentioned, her speech slowed down, and her expression grew increasingly serious.
How could this be!
Saville’s fingers suddenly trembled.
She had never seen such an accurate first draft sample in her career.
This sample fit Reid’s body perfectly, as if it had grown directly from him.
Not a single detail was off!
Such precise data could not possibly have come from an amateur noble young lady’s hands.
“Mr. Reid,” Saville’s voice suddenly became incredibly respectful, “May I ask… which master took your measurements?”
Even Reid thought that what Veronica called measuring was just a joke.
He recalled how Veronica’s arms trembled as she wrapped them around his waist during the measurement.
Along with the soft sensation against his back and that quivering voice saying, “Please don’t turn around.”
“Just an amateur enthusiast,” Reid replied softly.
“Impossible,” Saville murmured, “the angle of the waistline’s taper, the allowance of the sleeve cap…”
Reid looked at himself in the mirror, every seam of the sample appearing so naturally intertwined with his body.
He suddenly realized that Veronica’s seemingly casual embrace had already etched his body’s curves into her memory.
“Ms. Saville,” Reid slowly began, “you mentioned that there was absolutely no need for modification?”
The old tailor took a deep breath and suddenly performed a standard bow to Reid: “Yes, sir. This is the most perfect first draft sample I have ever seen in my career.”
“That young lady… she is simply a genius.”
When Reid changed back into his everyday clothes and walked out of the tailor shop, he found that his palms had unconsciously become slightly sweaty.
He looked out the window, seeing Veronica sitting at a café across the street, chatting with Lena, who was also waiting.
Sunlight streamed through the glass, enveloping her in a golden halo.
As if sensing Reid’s gaze, Veronica looked up and smiled slightly, raising her coffee cup in greeting.
Reid squinted slightly.
Veronica, how many secrets are you hiding?
—————–
When Reid pushed open the wooden door of the café, the wind chime jingled crisply.
The noisy conversations inside the café suddenly experienced a subtle pause, as a few ladies by the door simultaneously put down their cups, their fingers under their silk gloves secretly rearranging their hair.
Even the waitress holding a tray couldn’t help but slow down her steps, her gaze unconsciously landing on Reid, who had just entered.
In the afternoon light, Reid’s new casual wear presented a deep midnight blue.
The custom-made formal wear would take some time, and right now Reid was wearing an outfit chosen by Veronica and Lena together.
Although it was said to be together, mainly Veronica was in charge of it.
Lena’s understanding of fashion trends was naturally not on par with Veronica’s, but she also didn’t dare to fully entrust it to her.
Thus, it was mainly Veronica selecting, with Lena responsible for the final approval.
Although she had chosen the clothes herself, when this outfit appeared on Reid, Veronica’s eyes still lit up uncontrollably.
Her fingertips unconsciously touched her collarbone, where the cool sensation of Reid’s shirt buttons lingered from when she measured him.
Reid walked steadily toward the two, stopping in front of Lena: “My dear, sorry to keep you waiting.”
The scent of leather and cedar from Reid surged into Lena’s nostrils, causing her fingers to absently rub against the edge of her cup.
As Reid’s figure loomed in front of the table, she suddenly noticed the reflection in her teacup shaking violently.
How could a reflection shake?
Lena paused for a moment before realizing the truth.
It turned out her own hand was trembling.
Lena simply put the teacup down, her gaze sweeping over Reid’s entire body but failing to dare look directly at his face.
She intentionally fixed her gaze on Reid’s bowtie.
The silver-gray tie pin was one of the very few she had personally selected, and at that moment, it reflected unexpectedly brilliant light against the midnight blue scarf that Veronica insisted on.
Suddenly, Lena recalled the sight she had caught this morning through the gap in the changing room door, where Reid was tying his bowtie, his long fingers gliding across his neck, and a sliver of morning light falling on the dip of his collarbone.
After a moment of daze, Lena squeezed out a sentence:
“…The angle of the tie pin, adjust fifteen degrees to the right.”
Veronica suddenly chuckled: “Sister Lena is really observant~”
Lena’s ears instantly turned red.
She grabbed the teacup and gulped it down, forgetting that it was freshly poured hot tea.
The scalding liquid slid down her throat, burning her eyes red, giving her a perfect excuse.
It must be because it was too hot that made her heart race so fast!
