Chapter 12: Lady Marigold.

Chapter 12

"Oh?" Lady Marigold mused softly, one elegant brow arching upward. "And here I believed nobody listened closely enough to remember my insults."

A faint smile touched Sigrid’s lips as she began wandering through the workshop. Her long, slender finger drifted across a wooden mannequin before brushing lightly over scattered design sketches resting upon a nearby table. Needles, ribbons, unfinished bodices, and rolls of imported fabrics occupied nearly every surface, yet she moved through the organized chaos with surprising familiarity, as though she had stepped into a place she already understood.

"How could I not remember?" Sigrid replied. "You spoke with such defiance and arrogance that evening. You insulted half the ballroom without caring who heard you."

The compliment, strange as it was, seemed to please Marigold. A smile tugged at her lips, but beneath that amusement her curiosity only deepened. The young woman before her possessed an effortless confidence that naturally drew attention. Even standing quietly, she seemed to command the room around her, yet Marigold could not remember ever seeing her before.

Sigrid noticed the disbelief lingering in the designer’s eyes and smiled knowingly.

"It was years ago during Lady Isolde’s introduction ball," she explained calmly. "You publicly criticized a minor noblewoman for disguising cheap fabric beneath expensive embroidery. I was always rather shy then, and I avoided attention whenever possible. It would not be surprising if you never noticed me."

Marigold hummed thoughtfully as she considered the explanation. It sounded reasonable enough, though it did little to satisfy her curiosity.

"And yet you seem to know quite a bit about me," she observed. "And I know nothing about you... tell me your name."

Without hesitation, Sigrid gathered her skirts and performed a graceful curtsy.

"My apologies for the delayed introduction. I am Sigrid Thea Beaufort, first daughter of Duke Vesper Beaufort."

Recognition struck instantly. Marigold’s eyes widened as everything suddenly clicked into place. Of course. Sigrid Beaufort. The neglected daughter. The quiet one. The forgotten young lady noble society rarely spoke of unless discussing the peculiar circumstances of the Beaufort household.

Marigold had heard the rumors for years. A timid noble daughter who rarely appeared in public. A withdrawn young woman overshadowed by her stepmother and younger step-sister. Yet standing before her now, those stories seemed almost laughable. The woman before her possessed neither timidity nor uncertainty.

Sigrid could practically see the moment belief settled into Marigold’s mind.

"I never interacted with anyone," Sigrid continued. "But I noticed you. I remember how you mocked that unfortunate girl’s gown before offering to commission an entirely new wardrobe for her using your own funds."

Marigold laughed outright, the memory clearly returning to her. "I remember that incident."

Sigrid’s smile deepened slightly. "I imagined you would."

"You look nothing like the shy girl everyone described, Lady Sigrid."

Sigrid’s smile remained calm.

"People change, do they not? Especially when pushed beyond their limits."

The statement caused a brief flicker of confusion to pass over Marigold’s features. There was something oddly heavy about the way Sigrid spoke, as though those words carried far more meaning than they should. Yet when Marigold looked closer, all she found was the same composed smile resting upon Sigrid’s lips.

Meanwhile, Sigrid studied Marigold quietly. The woman standing before her truly was gifted. Even at a young age, Marigold possessed artistic talent capable of rivaling master designers with decades more experience. Years ago, after becoming queen, Sigrid had specifically sought her out. Ironically, their first meeting in that lifetime had begun with an insult. Marigold had openly criticized the queen’s wardrobe, claiming a monarch should not dress "like an overdecorated scarecrow wrapped in expensive curtains." Rather than taking offense, Sigrid had found herself intrigued.

They had never become particularly close, but a mutual respect had formed between them over the years. After her execution, however, Sigrid never learned what became of the talented designer.

Probably another kingdom, she thought. Someone else undoubtedly caught her interest.

A quiet chuckle escaped her.

Marigold tilted her head. "Something amusing?"

"Merely a memory," Sigrid replied. The smile faded from her lips as she turned her attention back to the matter at hand. "I would like you to design a gown for me."

Marigold crossed her arms. "For what occasion?"

"The royal ball next week."

"And when do you require it?"

"Before then."

A slow, arrogant smile spread across Marigold’s face. "I do not create gowns for just anyone."

Sigrid nearly laughed. Some things truly never changed. Even as queen, convincing Marigold to accept commissions had always been exhausting.

Picky as ever.

Instead of arguing, she simply motioned toward Lilith.

"Bring the box."

Lilith immediately stepped forward. Sigrid lifted the lid and revealed its contents. The moment the box opened, both women froze. Gold coins gleamed beneath the workshop lights, stacked neatly in quantities that would make many lesser nobles envious.

Lilith’s eyes widened dramatically. Until now she had assumed the box contained savings, perhaps a respectable amount of silver. Never had she imagined such wealth rested inside.

"My lady..." she whispered.

Even Marigold’s eyebrows rose slightly.

"I will pay you three times your usual rate," Sigrid stated.

Marigold recovered quickly, a faintly smug smile touching her lips. "Many people would pay even more," she said, the pride in her voice entirely unapologetic.

"As they should," Sigrid agreed. "But tell me, Lady Marigold. Are they worthy of wearing your creations?"

For the first time, genuine confusion crossed Marigold’s face.

Sigrid continued smoothly.

"You are the finest designer in the capital. Perhaps the finest in the kingdom. Do you truly wish your masterpieces displayed upon anyone who merely possesses enough coin to afford them?"

Silence filled the workshop before Marigold suddenly burst into laughter. The sound echoed through the room as she placed a hand upon her waist and shook her head in disbelief.

"Are you certain you’re the shy and neglected daughter everyone believes you to be?"

Sigrid merely smiled.

"You are not wrong," Marigold admitted eventually. "Not everyone deserves to wear one of my designs." She pointed directly toward Sigrid. "Fine. I’ll create your gown."

Lilith quietly released a breath she had not realized she had been holding, relief evident upon her face.

"You’ve impressed me, Lady Sigrid. Few people possess the confidence to praise themselves while flattering me simultaneously."

"I am honored."

"You’ve caught my interest."

"I am glad I did."

Marigold studied her for a long moment before speaking again.

"I’ll do it for six gold coins."

This time even Sigrid looked surprised. Six gold coins was absurdly low for someone of Marigold’s reputation.

Marigold noticed immediately and smirked. "You look shocked."

"I expected significantly more," Sigrid admitted.

"You seem like a worthwhile investment," Marigold replied. "Besides, you’ve entertained me."

Sigrid inclined her head respectfully. "Then I thank you."

Marigold waved the gratitude aside with a dismissive flick of her wrist. "Do you have any design requests?"

"I trust your creativity."

Marigold laughed softly. "A dangerous level of faith."

"Only two requirements."

Leaning forward with obvious interest, Marigold rested her elbows against the desk. "Go on."

"Red and black."

A grin slowly spread across the designer’s face. "And?"

Sigrid’s red eyes gleamed with quiet ambition. "I want every gaze in that ballroom fixed upon me."

Marigold barked another laugh, clearly delighted by the answer. "Greedy."

"Isn’t greed what drives everyone?" Sigrid wasn’t shy to admit it, without greed nobody would advance any where in life, without that same greed Sigrid wouldn’t have been able to be the best queen to ever live.

Marigold’s smile widened. "Perhaps." Extending her hand toward Sigrid, she added, "I’ll need your measurements."

Without hesitation, Lilith produced a folded sheet and handed it forward.

Marigold blinked in genuine surprise as Lilith handed over the folded sheet. Taking it, she unfolded the paper and glanced over the neatly recorded measurements.

"You prepared them already?" she asked, one brow lifting.

Sigrid merely smiled. "I dislike wasting time."

The answer earned a quiet hum of amusement from Marigold. Most noblewomen arrived with vague ideas, impossible demands, and little regard for the work required to bring them to life. Sigrid, however, had arrived with her measurements prepared, her payment ready, and her decision already made. It was difficult not to appreciate such efficiency.

Her amber eyes traveled across the page one final time before she folded it neatly and set it upon the desk. A satisfied smile tugged at her lips.

"Three days," she declared confidently. "Your gown will be ready."

"Three days?" Lilith echoed before she could stop herself. Even she knew that many noble ladies waited weeks, sometimes months, for a commission from Lady Marigold.

Marigold’s smile only widened. "Ordinarily, yes. However, I find myself unusually motivated."

Sigrid placed six gold coins upon the desk while Lilith reclaimed the box. Then she performed a graceful curtsy.

"Thank you, Lady Marigold."

A short while later, she and Lilith climbed back into the bustling boutique above. Noble ladies still wandered between displays while attendants carried purchases toward waiting carriages outside. Lilith remained visibly dazed, whether from meeting the legendary Lady Marigold or discovering her mistress possessed enough gold to rival lesser noble houses.

Together they moved toward the exit. Sunlight spilled through the grand windows as they stepped back onto the crowded street. For once, Sigrid felt genuinely satisfied. The first piece was now in place, and soon the entire kingdom would be reminded that Sigrid Beaufort existed and her revenge can commence.

Unfortunately, the moment lasted only seconds.

A noblewoman rounding the corner of the boutique collided lightly against Sigrid’s shoulder. The impact was minor, barely enough to disturb her balance, yet the woman immediately turned with visible irritation. She had not been paying attention to where she was walking, far too occupied with her conversation to watch the path ahead.

Now her gaze settled upon Sigrid.

A glare formed instantly.

"Are you blind?" she demanded sharply.

Beside her, Lilith stiffened. Around them, the busy street seemed to quiet ever so slightly as curious eyes drifted toward the confrontation.

Sigrid simply looked at the woman.

Then she smiled.