Stitched Together: Threads of Love & Convenience

It started one late afternoon at the end of summer.

The paths in the Royal Park of the Royal Capital, lined with ginkgo trees, were bustling with people enjoying their strolls.

Among the crowd walked many happy couples, arm in arm.

Conrad and I, engaged to be married, also walked arm in arm along one of the tree-lined paths, just like everyone else.

I glanced up at his handsome profile.

He noticed and smiled down at me. I returned his smile.

We had been engaged for two years, and it still felt like a dream that I would marry someone as wonderful as Conrad. He was like a fairy-tale knight.

I never imagined that it would truly end as just a dream.

Suddenly, Conrad's smile disappeared, he stopped walking, and he pulled his hand away from mine.

Everything changed when he spoke.

Seraphina, I want to break off our engagement.

For a moment, I couldn't understand what he was saying.

But a chill spread through my entire body as I gradually processed those words,

What? W-what do you mean? Did I fail somehow as your fiancée . . . ?

No, that's not it . . .

Conrad is going to marry me instead, dear sister.

My heart nearly stopped the moment I heard that voice.

My sister, Miriam Archibald, appeared with a triumphant smile on her face.

She was a year younger than me and beautiful as a princess.

Conrad's eyes crinkled with a smile as Miriam smoothly wrapped her arm around his.

It was an intimate expression he had never once shown me.

Miriam, didn't I tell you to wait quietly over there?

But Conrad, you were taking too long. I got tired of waiting.

Conrad turned back to face me.

So that's how it is. You understand, right? Seraphina's always been the kind one after all.

Of course I didn't understand.

But I couldn't say that out loud.

Seeing how intimate they had become without my knowledge, I knew that anything I said now would be futile.

I also realized that Miriam, with her superior magical ability and beauty, was far more suitable to stand beside Conrad—the eye-catching, dazzling man praised as The Wonderknight—than plain, ordinary me. On top of that, my parents had arranged our engagement.

From Miriam's confident attitude, I could tell that both sets of parents must have already approved of their union.

I was probably the only one who didn't know . . .

I felt miserable and wanted nothing more than to flee from this place as quickly as possible.

But, however imperfect I was, I was still a nobleman's daughter, and I couldn't make an unseemly display in public.

I mustered what little mental strength I had left and fought to control my trembling voice as I spoke words that countered what my heart truly felt.

Conrad, I accept the dissolution of our engagement. Now, if you'll please excuse me.

I bowed, turned away, and thought I could finally let my tears fall—but that moment was short-lived.

Oh, wait!

I turned around with a faint glimmer of hope at Conrad's voice.

Perhaps he would smile and say, "I was only joking," and come back to me.

But he remained at Miriam's side and carelessly tossed something toward me.

I quickly grabbed it. It was the blue scarf I had once embroidered with Conrad's crest as a gift.

You gave that to me two years ago before I went to battle. It was too plain for my taste, so I just stuffed it in my coat pocket and forgot about it. I don't need it anymore, so I'm returning it to you.

Hehe. It seems Miss Seamstress preferred sitting alone doing embroidery instead of improving herself to suit Conrad. I'll be sure to pick out a scarf that actually suits you, dear.

Yeah, I'd appreciate that. Let's go to that shop nearby.

I stood frozen in place, staring at the crumpled scarf in my hands as the two of them walked away, until their voices faded into the distance.

My parents, of course, already knew about the dissolution of my engagement to Conrad, and predictably, they defended Miriam.

My father furrowed his brow.

Your magic power is so pathetically low that Conrad had to fight on the battlefield with only his own strength. And yet, he never complained once and was instead lauded as The Wonderknight . . . Do you have any idea how ashamed we are to have such a powerless daughter? We would have been unable to face his parents if Miriam hadn't stepped in to fix your mess. You should be thoroughly grateful to your sister.

Being grateful to Miriam was impossible for me—I wasn't that saintly.

Father had always wanted a male heir, and he'd been especially harsh with me since I was young, even more so since I had almost none of the magical power that was naturally expected of nobles.

As my younger sister Miriam grew, revealing both the beauty inherited from our mother and her powerful magic, Father's affection became entirely focused on her.

I was treated merely as a tool to continue the family line by bringing in a son-in-law.

Yet I couldn't even fulfill that role.

Mother heaved a deep sigh and looked at me with disappointment.

Seraphina, this is entirely your fault. This happened because you failed to secure your fiancé's heart. But at least it happened before the wedding. It's much better than being cheated on after marriage. Miriam, on the other hand, has perfect looks and magic, so she'll never have to worry about infidelity.

Our mother, beautiful as an actress, favored Miriam who resembled her in beauty over me with my merely average appearance and at every opportunity compared me to Miriam.

Her reasoning was that since I wasn't beautiful, I should at least refine my skills so I wouldn't be an embarrassment as a nobleman's daughter.

So she assigned me numerous tutors, all with reputations for being exceptionally strict.

But among them, my embroidery teacher, despite her rigorous instruction, treated me with the affection of a real daughter.

Thanks to her, I fell in love with embroidery, and even when my parents and Miriam went out together leaving me alone in the mansion, I never felt lonely as long as I had my needlework.

Yet, no matter how skillful my embroidery became, my parents never once offered me any praise.

Miss, the fabric you ordered has arrived.

There was a knock at the door, and a maid entered carrying neatly folded fabric.

I had been staring absently at the blue scarf Conrad had returned to me, but I quickly hid it and forced a smile.

Thank you.

Yes, Miss . . . Um, what do you plan to use this linen for? If you intend to change your sheets, I could . . .

The maid was hesitant, as if she were treading on eggshells.

News of the broken engagement had likely spread thoroughly among the servants downstairs.

Did she think my sheets were soaked through with tears?

In truth, they might have been a little damp from crying, but not to that extent.

Oh, no, that's not it. I don't want to change the sheets. I thought I'd embroider this fabric to make a bed cover as a distraction.

Y-you want to embroider . . . this?

The maid stared at the fabric in astonishment.

Indeed, it was perhaps a bit larger than the small items like handkerchiefs or pouches that normally came to mind when one thought of embroidery.

I took it from her and spread it out on the bed with a soft rustle.

It was a single piece of linen large enough to cover the entire bed.

Embroidering such a large piece of fabric would surely help distract me from the pain of losing Conrad.

I felt pathetic for still wanting to embroider despite suffering such a terrible heartbreak, but I really couldn't help who I was at my core.

Unlike my glamorous sister, who was always surrounded by men and busy with social engagements, I hardly interacted with any men besides Conrad, and I didn't know a single place where I could go to distract myself at a time like this.

My few female friends were all already married and seemed happy, so telling them "my sister stole my fiancé and then my engagement was broken off" would only make things incredibly awkward for everyone.

I couldn't share my story of such intense heartbreak and cast a shadow over my friends' happiness.

So truly, embroidery was all I had.

I was exasperated with myself, thinking I truly was Miss Seamstress after all . . .

Miss . . . would you like me to bring you some warm tea?

Thank you very much, but I'm fine for now.

Whenever I started working on my embroidery, I became so engrossed that even if she brought me warm tea, it would be completely cold by the time I remembered to drink it.

The maid, with a troubled expression on her face, gave a small bow and left the room.

I felt sorry for making her worry.

Once alone, I took three pattern books from the bookshelf to look at embroidery designs.

They were books I had read so many times they were now completely worn out.

Though I had already memorized their contents, I could never bring myself to ask Father for new patterns.

It was painfully obvious that even if I did ask, he would just dismiss it, calling it a waste of money.

As I flipped through the worn pages, my eyes suddenly fell on a pattern of a princess and a knight.

A sharp pain shot through my chest.

Miriam, the princess of this mansion, was probably out somewhere today with Conrad who had become her knight.

There was no longer any role or place for me in this world.

I shut the book with a thud like I was trying to lock away the pain in my chest.

Then, using a pattern from another book as reference, I sketched a large house on the pristine linen.

I threaded silk thread through the embroidery needle and pierced the fabric with a soft prick.

As I mindlessly worked on outline stitches with rhythmic pricks, I tried to brush away the painful memories.

I, Seraphina Archibald, daughter of a viscount, and Conrad Dexter, son of another viscount, had become engaged two years ago through an arrangement between our families.

Conrad was a handsome, blonde, blue-eyed man whom everyone admired and was a knight famed for his bravery among the Order of Knights, which all noblemen were obliged to join.

Even on battlefields where magical beasts ran rampant, he would return almost every time without a single scratch, earning him such high praise as to be called The Wonderknight.

Fighting against agile and fierce magical beasts and returning unharmed was truly something like a miracle.

Despite being such an excellent knight, he was also kind to men and women alike, and highly popular among the noble ladies of the Royal Capital.

I, on the other hand, had been blonde when I was born, but around the age of ten, my hair gradually turned into a dull chestnut color and my eyes were a pale green.

I was also quite reserved, making me the inconspicuous type even among noble ladies.

But, even from our very first meeting, Conrad was kind, and whenever we met, he would give me gifts and make me laugh with pleasant conversation.

During our engagement, I had few opportunities to see Conrad as he was busy with his studies and duties in the Order of Knights, but before I knew it, I had fallen in love with him.

Now, he was nineteen and I was eighteen.

We were supposed to have our wedding ceremony this winter.

The broken engagement was truly out of nowhere, coming just before our marriage.

How long had those two been seeing each other behind my back?

But the thought of confronting them about it was unimaginable.

Without magic, striking looks, or the ability to captivate men's hearts like Miriam—it really was just a waiting game for when I would've been tossed aside.

It just happened to be now.

Oh no, I've been thinking about it again . . .

The brick house was finished in no time, despite it being quite a large pattern.

Looking at the house made me think of family, which inevitably brought thoughts of the broken engagement back to mind.

I shook my head vigorously and began working on animal patterns instead.

Sheep, ducks, rabbits, and piglets.

Embroidering these cute animals would surely help take my mind off things.

As I filled in the sheep's fluffy wool with satin stitches, I recalled that last month, a pack of silver wolves had attacked the sheep in the Royal Pasture near the capital and the Order of Knights had to exterminate them.

Magical beasts appeared frequently here in the Kingdom of Barland, harming people or carrying them off.

When that happened, the Order of Knights, composed of adult nobles from all over the country, mobilized to get rid of the magical beasts.

Magical beasts were covered in thick fur or skin protected by magic, so normal weapon attacks were mostly ineffective, and the knights had to infuse their weapons with magical power in order to deal damage to them.

Commoners typically didn't possess magic in this country, but nobles were often born with a certain amount of it.

That's why the Order of Knights was composed of nobles who possessed magic.

Still, even among magical people, attack magic, like fire or water, and healing magic, which could treat injuries, could only be used by a handful of witches and sorcerers born with extraordinarily large amounts of magical power and talent.

About a hundred years ago, people who could use powerful magic were apparently much more common than today, but their numbers had gradually decreased over time, making them very rare now. Currently, those who could use magic above a certain level were apparently closely guarded by the kingdom.

Ordinary nobles had no connection to such magical gifts—they simply possessed some innate magic from birth.

However, even that modest amount of magic had a tremendous impact when fighting for one's life against magical beasts.

Before deployment, knights in the Order were encouraged to receive Mana Transfers from those closest to them such as family members or significant others.

A Mana Transfer was the act of sharing one's magic with another person.

To perform it, one held hands with the intended recipient, gathered magic in their palm, and channeled it into the recipient's palm.

This allowed the recipient to accumulate two or three times their original magic before heading to the battlefield.

However, two years ago, when I first performed a Mana Transfer with Conrad, I could only transfer the tiniest amount of power—barely a drop.

I naturally have stronger magic than most people, so it's fine.

Though his tone was kind, he still seemed disappointed.

I felt terribly guilty that I couldn't do anything meaningful for my fiancé even as he was heading into danger.

So instead, I prayed for his safety through embroidery, the one thing I excelled at.

I embroidered his family crest—an eagle with outstretched wings on a silver background—onto a blue scarf that matched the color of his eyes and gave it to him as a good luck charm.

But it seemed he'd never worn that scarf and had forgotten in it in his jacket pocket, only eventually to make its way back to me.

Oh my! When did I embroider so many sheep . . . !

Lost in my memories, I'd unconsciously embroidered about a hundred sheep.

This looks like a sheep farm, I thought, completely exasperated with myself.

Pulling myself together, I decided to embroider flowers around the sheep next.

Roses and verbena. Violets would be nice too.

As I gazed at the linen, contemplating where to place each flower, I felt the pain in my heart ease ever so slightly.

In the dimly lit room, I recognized the truth with painful clarity.

Miriam was right after all—I truly was Miss Seamstress and I belonged alone with my embroidery rather than at the side of someone as dazzling as Conrad.

In the end, my engagement with Conrad was officially concluded as an amicable dissolution by mutual agreement.

The public reason given was apparently that my magic power was weaker than anticipated.

But Conrad had brazenly broken off our engagement in broad daylight, right in the middle of the Royal Park.

By now, most of the nobility in the Royal Capital must've known about it.

The fact that Miss Seamstress had her fiancé stolen by her sister would be common knowledge.

Two years ago, when I couldn't properly perform a Mana Transfer for Conrad before he left for the battlefield, I'd immersed myself even deeper into embroidery, something I had loved since childhood, to escape from reality.

I embroidered with almost haunting intensity—morning, noon, and night—on anything and everything.

As a result, every piece of fabric, not just in my room but also in the entire mansion, had become covered in embroidery. Now I could handle any large project or difficult stitch with ease.

The mansion had become so overrun with embroidered cushions, tablecloths, pot covers, and tapestries that my mother, unable to stand it any longer, ordered the head maid to gather them all and donate them to the church's charity bazaar in the Royal Capital.

But to my delight, my works were well received, so I continued creating and donating embroidered items.

As a result, I'd earned the nickname "Miss Seamstress."

I didn't particularly mind. I loved embroidery and sewing, and being a seamstress was an honorable profession.

My dream of marrying Conrad and becoming his wife had already been torn to shreds.

So if that was how it was meant to be, I'd live the rest of my life alone as Miss Seamstress.

As long as I had embroidery, I wouldn't need anything else.

I didn't need love or marriage . . . in the end, they only brought pain, after all.

There. It's finished.

I secured the last thread and removed the embroidery hoop.

There was a large brick house, various kinds of flowers, a border decoration around the edges, and many, many sheep.

The finished work was excellent.

It had turned into a very charming bed cover. If I donated this to the charity bazaar, it might be well received too.

After completing the embroidery, I suddenly came back to reality and noticed it was already dark outside.

I realized Miriam hadn't returned yet, and my heart sank into darkness as well.

But at least another day had passed.

Now, all I could do was wait for the day when time, that great healer, helped me forget.

From then on, I remained secluded in the mansion, living a life completely devoted to embroidery—stitch after stitch, ceaselessly working my needle to create patterns.

The process of bringing charming designs of flowers, leaves, and little birds to life with needle and thread slowly but surely healed my shattered heart.

Then, one day, two weeks after my engagement had been dissolved, someone I never expected came to visit me.

◇◇◇

Miss Seraphina, Count Middleton is here to see you.

. . . Who did you say?

Count Middleton.

The name wasn't familiar to me at all.

Well, I supposed I had heard rumors about him . . .

He was called Count Iceheart.

A man of extraordinary beauty, excellent at estate management, and outstanding in both swordsmanship and magic.

Yet, he was cold and ruthless as an ice statue, never revealing his inner feelings to others—by all accounts, a mysterious young count.

Why would someone like him want to see me? I've never met him before . . . Could he possibly be mistaking me for Miriam?

No, Miss. The count specifically asked to meet with you, Miss Seraphina. Your father is currently entertaining him.

Father is? Okay, I'll go right away.

If my father, the head of the family, was present at the meeting, then it was likely not a personal matter but something important that involved the whole family.

I had no idea what it could be about, but I didn't think I could have unknowingly offended the count since I rarely went out . . .

In any case, with my maid's help, I quickly changed from my casual clothes to a proper dress and tidied my chestnut hair.

I descended to the lower floor feeling anxious.

The maid opened the door to the reception room where my father and a black-haired stranger were sitting opposite each other.

Both men looked at me as the door opened.

My father had a broad smile on his face.

Ah, Seraphina, you're finally here! Listen well, this is an unexpected stroke of good fortune. Count Middleton here wishes to take you as his wife!

I was too dumbfounded to speak right away.

. . . Wife?

Wife as in, um, married to him . . . right?

W-why??

The black-haired man rose smoothly to his feet.

His imposing figure made me unconsciously hold my breath and stare in admiration.

What a beautiful man.

He had glossy black hair, sharp black eyes, a well-shaped nose, and skin as smooth as porcelain.

The silk shirt, crisp vest, and trousers he wore were not only of the finest quality but fit him perfectly.

He had no sword in his belt, which meant he must have left it with his servant for the visit.

Even without a sword, Count Middleton exuded not the slightest hint of vulnerability.

Conrad belonged to the Order of Knights and had served in multiple campaigns, giving him somewhat of a military bearing, but this count possessed an incomparably colder and more formidable presence.

The count's appearance was strikingly beautiful, despite—no, precisely because his intimidating aura was all the more pronounced.

Just having him stand before me made my throat go dry with tension.

The count fixed his gaze on me and spoke in a ceremonial tone devoid of even a trace of warmth.

I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Seraphina Archibald. Please forgive the rudeness of my unexpected visit. I am Alexis Middleton, Count of Seafield. I hope we may become better acquainted.

P-pleased to meet you, Count Middleton. I am Seraphina Archibald. It is an honor to make your acquaintance.

I hastily bent my knees in a curtsy.

When I raised my head, he was still watching me like he was trying to verify something.

I instinctively averted my eyes.

. . . Was that rude of me?

But staring at someone you've just met was also rude, wasn't it . . . ?

Cautiously, I returned my gaze to somewhere around the count's chin and secretly felt relieved to see he was no longer looking at me.

Still, he was frightening . . . Being so handsome only made the intensity of his gaze more overwhelming.

Just as his nickname suggested, he was as cold and frigid as ice.

With just a single glance from him, my timid heart felt like it might freeze solid.

Well, sit down, Seraphina. Count, please take a seat as well.

At my father's word, I sat down beside him while Count Middleton took the seat across from us.

When I glanced discreetly at the count again, it was as if a coldly beautiful ice sculpture sat there.

I was astonished that Count Iceheart truly possessed the stunning good looks that rumors had claimed.

And the claims about his martial prowess were likely true as well.

Though slender, his calloused hands and the way his muscles were defined made it obvious at a glance that he did physical training, and like a true warrior, there was absolutely no wasted movement in his dignified bearing.

Though he had inherited his title at the young age of twenty-two and was rumored to coldly reject even the most beautiful of women, and despite being a rare sight in the Royal Capital as he usually remained in his domain, Count Middleton was extremely popular among noble young ladies.

His popularity rivaled even that of Conrad, The Wonderknight.

And someone like that wanted me, Miss Seamstress, as his wife?

Impossible.

Could this be some kind of trick . . . ?

Paying no mind to my suspicious state, Father began speaking in a cheerful tone.

Count Middleton says he met you at last year's Royal Garden Party and was taken with you at first sight. Since you were engaged to Conrad at that time, he refrained, but upon hearing that relationship had been dissolved, he's come to propose marriage.

The Royal Garden Party . . .

I had indeed attended last year's Garden Party with Conrad, but he spent the entire time talking with Miriam and other women.

I'd been alone the whole time, occasionally exchanging brief pleasantries with other guests.

There were so many guests that I couldn't be certain whether I had spoken with the count standing before me.

It wasn’t as though I I could tell him to his face that I didn't remember him.

But "taking a liking at first sight"? That just didn't make sense no matter how I looked at it.

Father paid no attention to my confusion and was determined to push the conversation forward.

My, what a wonderful proposition you've brought us! As it happens, my daughter has just had her engagement dissolved due to unavoidable circumstances. She's been quite downcast about it, but to think she would catch the eye of a count! This is truly beyond our wildest dreams. Isn't that right, Seraphina?

F-Father . . . I haven't yet . . .

What did you say? Do you think you're in a position to choose?!

Father raised his voice and fixed me with a terrifying glare.

I instantly felt silent.

Father had never once respected my opinion.

But then Count Middleton, who had been sitting with his legs crossed and silently observing, suddenly spoke up.

Of course Seraphina herself should make the choice. After all, I came to propose to her, not to you.

Wha—

The atmosphere turned ice-cold.

It felt as though we'd been pierced by a sharp icicle.

Father's face alternated between red and blue after receiving such cutting words from a count barely half his age.

I stared at the count in shock.

I'd never seen a nobleman speak so directly before.

So this must be why he's called Count Iceheart . . . It was a bit frightening, but I watched with pleasant surprise as my usually overbearing father was put in his place.