บท 12: A Wardrobe Malfunction
I stepped closer to the gown, taking in the details. The fabric was familiar to me—extremely familiar. I gasped as I realized what I was looking at.
"Is this...?" I began, running my fingers along the material carefully. "This is Zylon. One of the rarest and strongest fabrics in the world."
Sylus glanced at me, his anger shifting slightly as he nodded in agreement. "Exactly."
I continued, my voice rising with excitement as I nerded out over the material. "Zylon can only be cut with specialized tools, like high-grade ceramic or titanium scissors. It's one of the strongest and most flexible fibers available, nearly impossible to tear under normal circumstances. And the only needle that could pierce it cleanly without damaging the fabric would be a custom 8-gauge curved industrial needle. There's no way this kind of fabric could have ripped by accident."
"This is incredible—basically unheard of! You managed to make use of a fabric that's usually reserved for military gear and sports equipment to make a wedding dress?! A gorgeous one at that!" I exclaimed.
"Not the time to be fangirling! My wedding is in less than thirty minutes! Fix this!" The bride screamed, panic lacing her voice.
"Oh yes! I apologize." I replied, quickly shifting gears.
Sylus's eyes darkened, his expression hard. "This was sabotage."
The bride gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Sabotage? You mean someone did this...on purpose?"
Sylus's gaze shifted from the bride to the dress, his voice filled with quiet fury. "Someone who knew exactly what type of fabric this was and how difficult it is to work with. They damaged the dress to ruin your day...or to tarnish my reputation."
I crouched down, inspecting the tear. As I looked up, something clicked in my mind, and my breath caught. Oh my God…
I stood up, almost in disbelief. "Wait… you're… Valerie Kingsley!" My voice wavered as I realized who was standing in front of me—the Valerie Kingsley, the supermodel, fashion icon, and global sensation whose face graced every major magazine for the past decade.
She blinked, clearly distressed but managing a nod. "Yes, but—what does that have to do with my dress?"
I felt a rush of adrenaline. "I can't believe I'm working on your wedding dress. But," I quickly refocused, "like I said, this fabric… it's Zylon, and it's practically indestructible. This kind of damage doesn't happen by accident."
I knelt back down, pointing to the tear, my voice taking on a sharper, more technical tone. "Look closely here. The tear didn't start at a seam, where fabric typically gives way under stress. It's almost as if the fabric was deliberately sliced in a smooth line before it began to fray. See this edge? It's clean, no jagged fibers. If this was a regular mishap, you'd see irregularities from the force of the tear, but this—it's far too clean. Whoever did this used something precise, like high-grade titanium or ceramic scissors. And notice how it follows the grain of the fabric almost perfectly? That's another sign it was intentional."
Valerie's eyes widened as she absorbed the information. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, her assistant rushed into the room, an anxious expression on her face. "We've got about twenty minutes left before you walk down the aisle. We'll figure out what happened to the dress later, right now, we have to focus on fixing it."
Valerie whipped her head toward Sylus, panic bubbling back up. "Please, Sylus, you have to save my wedding. I don't care what happened, just please fix it."
Sylus, still visibly fuming, moved toward the dress to assess the damage. However, as he began pinning the ripped section, he hesitated, his brow furrowing deeper. His fingers traced the seams before he suddenly stopped, glaring at the fabric. His mouth tightened, and he muttered a curse under his breath.
"What is it?" Valerie asked, her voice trembling.
Sylus turned to her, his frustration boiling over. "Your measurements—they've changed. The dress doesn't fit you the same way it did when I made it. Have you gained weight?"
Valerie flinched, tears welling up in her eyes again. "I'm sorry," she stammered, her voice small. "I couldn't resist the cake testing... I've been so stressed, and I—"
Sylus threw his hands up, shaking his head in disbelief. "You couldn't resist the cake testing, stress eating? Valerie, this is a couture gown made of Zylon, not something you can just adjust on the fly!" His voice was raised, and Valerie's lip quivered, fresh tears threatening to spill.
I could see things were getting tense—too tense. I grabbed Sylus by the arm, pulling him aside. "Sylus, stop," I whispered urgently. "You need to calm down. You're too emotional right now."
He turned his piercing gaze on me, his voice low and angry. "Of course, I'm emotional. Someone messed with my work. They ruined my design, Freya. My design!" His hands clenched into fists, his jaw tight.
"I know, and you have every right to be angry. But if you keep working like this, you're going to make a mistake. You can't fix this dress in the state you're in. It's not helping anyone."
Sylus closed his eyes, taking a long breath. His tension didn't fade entirely, but I could see the fight leave his shoulders as he exhaled. He opened his eyes, glancing from me to Valerie and back again before shaking his head. "Fine. You take over."
My heart skipped a beat. "Me? But—"
"We're running out of time!" Valerie's assistant called out again, a note of panic in her voice.
"You're the only one I trust with this right now. Just… fix it, please," he said firmly.
I had no choice. Nodding, I moved back toward the dress, taking a deep breath. "Okay, let's get to work."
Valerie's eyes widened in disbelief, her eyes flickering between me and Sylus. "Her?" she asked Sylus, clearly skeptical.
Sylus met her gaze, his expression unwavering. "I wouldn't put your wedding day in her hands if I wasn't sure she could do it."
Reluctantly, Valerie nodded, though she still looked uncertain.
I quickly examined the gown again, noting the slight change in Valerie's body measurements. The dress would no longer fit her perfectly, and we didn't have enough extra fabric to make the necessary alterations without sacrificing the overall design. An idea sparked in my mind.
"Okay, here's what we're going to do," I said, taking charge. "We can't fix the dress to its original design with your measurements being slightly off, so we're going to have to change the style. We'll rework the bodice to give you more breathing room and adjust the skirt to create a more flowing silhouette."
I looked at Sylus, my voice firm. "Start working on the neckline. We're going to widen it slightly to balance the proportions. Use the 8-gauge curved needle to ensure a seamless finish."
Sylus immediately set to work, grabbing his tools and threading the needle with precision.
I turned my attention to the skirt, unpinning sections to create a layered effect. "We'll loosen the waist here," I murmured, mostly to myself, "then add pleating along the sides to create more volume. It'll draw attention away from the bodice and make the gown look ethereal."
As I worked, I continued issuing instructions. "Sylus, once you're done with the neckline, move on to the sleeves. Let's soften the edges and add a slight flare. It'll complement the pleats in the skirt and give it a more romantic feel."
My fingers flew over the fabric, stitching and adjusting with a practiced hand. Valerie watched in awe as the dress slowly transformed before her eyes.
With every stitch, the gown took on a new life. The bodice, now adjusted to accommodate her changed figure, hugged her in all the right places without feeling restrictive. The skirt flowed gracefully, the pleats adding movement and elegance.
By the time we were finished, Valerie stood in front of the mirror, her eyes wide with disbelief.
The dress was breathtaking. The bodice now featured a subtle off-the-shoulder neckline with delicate, flowing sleeves. The skirt cascaded down in layers, creating a soft, romantic silhouette that moved beautifully with every step.
Valerie gasped, her hand flying to her mouth once again. "I love it... It's even better than before."
Sylus, who had been silent for most of the process, stood back, his expression unreadable. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft. "Freya... this is incredible."
Valerie's assistant rushed back into the room, a frantic look on her face. "It's time! Valerie, you need to head to the aisle now!"
Valerie turned to me, tears of gratitude in her eyes. "Thank you. Thank you so much. You saved my wedding." Then, she looked to Sylus. "Both of you. Stay for the reception."
As she hurried off to make her grand entrance, Sylus turned to me, his voice filled with admiration. "Freya, how did you come up with that design?"
I smiled, still catching my breath. "I was inspired by some of the designers in your workshop—Madeleine Vionnet's way of sculpting fabric and Azzedine Alaïa's precision in tailoring curves to the body using the Alaïa stitch."
Sylus stared at me, clearly impressed. "You continue to surprise me."
Just as we settled into the aftermath of our work, the ceremony began, and the priest asked if there were any objections.
Suddenly, a voice rang out from the crowd. "I object!" A young woman stood up, her face flushed with emotion. "The groom can't get married because... I'm pregnant with his child!"
Valerie's gasp echoed through the room, her face going pale as she recognized the woman—her best friend.
My breath caught as I turned to Sylus. This wedding was far from over.
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