Silver Lining Yesterday - Chapter 16
“Looks like the owner of the dress has shown up.”
“….”
“Quite the remarkable turn of events, don’t you think?”
Nix, who had taken a few steps back and crossed his arms, sneered.
Madame, pale as a ghost and trembling like a willow branch, staggered back and grabbed the sleeve of Nix’s coat.
Her eyes, reflecting pure terror, were pitch black with fear.
“Did… did you cast some strange magic on me, Young Master? Is that it?”
“I can’t do magic like that. You know that.”
“I don’t know! I don’t know anything about that!”
Madame shook her head, nearly crying.
After a moment of observing the situation, Jean carefully lowered herself from the sofa. Even her gentle movements made Madame flinch as if in a panic.
It must be a dream, there was no doubt.
The sudden appearance of Nix, and then Jean Rohrbach, just as unexpectedly—
Madame, who had been trying to convince herself, suddenly turned her head and spotted the mirror.
The large full-length mirror on the wall reflected both the older woman and the youthful, delicate beauty of Jean Rohrbach, who seemed to have kept her innocence over the years.
Madame found that scene strangely familiar.
As she absently traced her memories, she was suddenly confronted with a day from long ago.
Instead of wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, light freckles spread across her face. Instead of suffering from daily boredom, her youthful days were filled with surprises.
At the age of just twenty, she had followed her mother, a seamstress, to the towering fortress.
As she climbed the narrow, uneven stairs, the sunlight slanting through the small windows lit up piles of clothing.
There were ancient Houppelandes that must be hundreds of years olds, men’s shorts called ‘shos,’ exaggerated petticoats that seemed only fit for processions, and a silk stomacher embroidered with gold thread…
Amidst the worn-out garments that looked as if they had been waiting for the end of days, a neatly pressed dark blue robe stood out, hanging on a coat hanger.
“We’ll alter it with new fabric. I need to take measurements, so bring a notebook and follow me.”
While rummaging through writing instruments, she ran down the empty hallway, stopping in front of a door. She hesitated before opening it.
In front of the full-length mirror stood a strange woman in a chemise.
Her hair cascaded in waves, dark as night, and her skin was impossibly pale. The faint smile that curved her lips seemed to embody the very essence of youth, as described by poets.
With her arms extending gracefully like dancing, the woman’s fingertips touched her mother’s.
Perhaps already beginning to take measurements, the tape measure had stopped near the woman’s wrist.
The woman, with a clear and bird-like laugh, whispered something softly, and her mother, with a polite smile, let her eyes linger on the woman’s delicate figure.
It was a peaceful yet rigidly measured stillness.
Without realizing it, she had been silently watching them when, suddenly, her gaze was drawn to her mother’s reflection in the mirror.
In her mother’s eyes, which had been as solid and unyielding as stone to endure their hard lives, there was a trace of something unfamiliar. The eyes, which no longer surprised or moved, flickered with a faint warmth.
For the first time in years, her mother’s hands, which had made the same kind of ready-to-wear clothes every day, moved freely.
Madame Aubert’s daughter would never forget that moment.
The Jean Rohrbach she had seen that day, the first and only time, became her mother’s lifelong muse.
Years later, when her mother had risen to become one of Alderon’s most renowned designers, celebrities and actors sent calls, but none could provide the same shocking inspiration as Jean Rohrbach, whom she had met for only half a day.
It didn’t matter what had happened to her, or what the world said about her.
What mattered was that her mother never forgot the look in the eyes, her smile that bloomed like spring, the scent that seemed to emanate from her being, and her ethereal, fairy-like walk.
Her mother couldn’t bring herself to part with the dress from that day, which had withered in the glass case, because no one else could replace her….
Now, the daughter, who had inherited Madame Aubert’s legacy, was about to face the person her mother had reminisced about for half her life.
“…Is it really you?”
At the choked voice, Jean simply opened her eyes and stared. The blue light that had captivated her mother still shone brightly, unchanged.
Madame took a courageous step closer to her.
“You may not remember, but I met you a long time ago. I was the seamstress who made your clothes when you visited Satin.”
“Oh my, how nice to meet you, Madame… Aubert?”
Jean smiled softly as she glanced at the shop’s name.
Madame Aubert swallowed her nervous breath and clasped her hands tightly together.
“There must have been many hardships on your way here. I won’t ask. That doesn’t matter to me.”
The way clothes change depending on who wears them shows that an outfit cannot be completed on its own.
“Could you please wear this dress once more?”
Her mother’s masterpiece that had been left unfinished when its owner disappeared one day.
Her mother’s lingering attachment would finally be completed once more.
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