Chapter Text
As the sun beats down on Sophie's face, relief washes over her like the cool mist of dawn. She’s begun the journey to a new place of employment, where she’s been graced with the opportunity to sew for the royal family.
Sophie begins to worry that she won’t be able to hold her needle straight in the presence of such elegance. She laughs at the thought.
When she steps into the palace it takes a grand amount of self-restraint to keep herself from gasping out loud. The floors were a rich red and the walls were decorated with glistening gold. It was like walking into a painting and feeling the presence of the artist.
The extravagance of the room begins to make her feel uneasy. Sophie starts to wonder if she can truly do her best here.
She spots an old lady pushing a tea cart by the huge archway.
“Good morning Miss, would you be able to help me find Her Highness? I’m the new seamstress.”
“Oh yes, she’s about to have her breakfast. I’ll lead you to her.” The old woman replies.
Sophie gingerly follows the woman as she leads her into an ornate room. The huge windows allow the sunlight to shine through, in almost a blinding way.
Somehow the sun shines brighter in here than outside, Sophie thought.
At the end of a long table sits the beauty of Her Highness, Roselyn Vera. Her dark hair resembles the ocean waves at night, and her bronzed skin like the saving grace of a lighthouse.
“You must be the new seamstress, it’s lovely to meet you.” The Queen waves Sophie over.
“Yes my lady, a pleasure.” Sophie dips into a curtsy and approaches the table.
“I am so glad you’re here! As I’m sure you’re aware, the upcoming ceremony is very important. I need you to make sure all eyes are on me. But with your talents I should have no worries, correct?” The Queen questions.
“Yes of course, Your Majesty” She answers, slightly taken aback by her overly cheery attitude.
“Perfect! I will fetch Laurent to show you to the sewing room. I will be joining you later to take my measurements.” The queen rings a bell and a slim older man with white speckled black hair enters through the huge double doors at the back.
“Please follow me.” He directs.
Sophie obliges.
Perhaps they made the palace maze-like to deter people intending to do harm. Or perhaps Sophie was just unable to fathom the expanse that this place covers. Sophie makes a mental note to never walk alone here.
Arriving at the sewing room, Laurent bids his goodbye, leaving Sophie alone to take in her new working quarters.
Observing the luxurious fabrics, Sophie runs her hand over a particularly glossy blue one, resembling a sapphire. Looking around the room, the gold-plated scissors, the perfectly ordered push pins, and the sewing machine worth a year's salary—all of it emphasizes what she lacks, and how plain she was.
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Sophie Chaplier loves many things. Like the smell of freshly baked bread, the colors of a blossoming field of flowers, and the feeling of dawn right before the sun breaks the horizon. Although she shows her appreciation in abundance, she has never really felt what it means to be loved.
Growing up, it was as if she didn't exist. Never a thought in anyone’s mind, not even her own parents.
Sophie grew up in the countryside of France. In a small town, there's supposed to be an interwoven community where everyone knows everyone. This might be true for others, but for Sophie it was quite the opposite. The closer others became around her, the more she felt pushed out of the social circle.
Sophie was not a planned child. In fact, she was the bitter end of a glorious young romance, as she was always reminded. She was the antithesis of love itself, the adversary of happiness. Her parents were not meant to be parents…at least when she was a child. Sophie always wondered if it was a sin to be born. Maybe that would explain the heavy feeling of guilt that weighed on her and never subsided.
Sophie knew she could never be a blessing when they stopped feeding her at the age of six—right as her younger sister was born. She was truly surprised there was enough love left in their relationship to procreate once more. All attention went to her. As it should Sophie thought. As it should, as it should, as it should was all that kept her from breaking. These three words kept the balance within her mind. Before her sister, she only knew cold, unhappy parents, so she believed this to be a normal occurrence among households. Through her little sister Marie she could see her parents’ radiant loving energy–but only from the corner of a room. She could never resent Marie though, for how could it be her fault? She could never resent anyone actually. Perhaps that was her problem.
Since she could walk, Marie constantly tried to shift that radiance onto Sophie. It was a fruitless endeavor, Sophie’s parents treated her like their first and only child. Sophie would put an end to her attempts with a quick nod or a small smile. A burden like that should never fall on the younger sibling. So she would merely observe the warmth of love and cover herself with it in her dreams.
When her mother died, Sophie cried for weeks on end. She felt guilty as the hot tears spilled down her face, because they were selfish in nature. Not only was she grieving her mother, she was grieving the loss of a vital opportunity. She was grieving because she never got to prove her worth to her mother. She never got to show her own mother that there was a reason for her birth.
Sophie’s father later remarried when she was seventeen. Her stepmother was always kind and fair, but Sophie felt that it was out of pity–not love. She didn't blame her. Her stepmother was beautiful in all sorts of ways: her smile, her voice, even her name. Ms. Alizee Elea was the epitome of beauty. Instead of lingering on her insecurities that arose, Sophie devoted her time into creating gorgeous articles of clothing. With every turn of her needle, Sophie forgot about her hair which was far from silky, her bland face that failed to capture the attention of any man, and a body that lacked the curves of femininity.
What started as a simple diversion was all thanks to her childhood friend, Kaskashi Kabu. His family had moved from Japan when she was eight, as the relations with France had drastically strengthened at the turn of the century. Most of his extended family resided in Paris, but he said that his mother preferred the quiet of the countryside. Sophie never understood the appeal because the stretches of farmland seemed to confine her in mundanity. While his other family worked as diplomats, Kakashi’s mother spent her time sewing at her shop at the edge of town.
They bonded over being socially isolated, not like all the others. They both gravitated to the lonely corners and quiet alcoves. He would visit the river that flowed through the town and sift for the most interesting looking coins. Since the river mouth began to the north of Paris, coins from foreigners thrown in as wishes would make their way down to the countryside. Sophie would argue with Kakashi that he’s “stealing wishes”, but he would always have a reason as to why that wasn’t the case. "I wished for their wish to come true already" he said, waving off her worry. Sophie wasn't certain that was how wishes really worked, but despite that she began to join him on his coin expeditions. She remembered the very first coin they caught together, it was gold with Arabic writing. Sophie let Kakashi keep it, to add to his collection.
One spring afternoon, Kakashi brought Sophie over to see his current coin collection. The first thing Sophie noticed upon entering was that their home was connected to his mom’s shop. Home and work seem to blend together in the Kabu residence. The beautiful chaos captured inside made her heart swell. Gorgeous gowns, down to the floor. Headpieces filled with gems, stacked high to the ceiling. The pieces seemed to make the mannequins come to life. An image of a ballroom appeared in front of Sophie as she imagined the elegant flow of each piece in a regal dance. Coming to life with each step. Ms. Kabu sat at a desk, bent over her work as her loose curls fell over her shoulder. When she looked up to greet Sophie, she noticed the young lady staring in awe at the mess before her. Noticing her curiosity, Kakashi’s mother offered her materials she was no longer using to feed her new interest.
During the following summer their once unwavering friendship would come to an end. Kakashi visited the Chaplier residence early one morning to tell her that his mother was summoned to the city for diplomatic matters. They were only supposed to be gone for one week, two at most.
When one week passed, Sophie’s trust in Kakashi’s words began to falter. When two weeks passed her faith had fully diminished. They never came back. Sophie never saw Kakashi again.