❛ come on. it can’t be that bad. ❜
"Oh, it can't be? Clearly you don't understand how particular the Countess is about her wardrobe. True, she may be living in the middle of no where and hasn't seen the outside of this village probably since the 1950's, but she won't dare pass up the opportunity to look like she goes to a gala every night. And what do we have here?” Magda asked, pointing to the large roll of fabric that, to the untrained eye, looked pretty much the same color as the material of Alcina’s current dresses... maybe a few shades off.
“It’s the wrong dye batch! I order a hundred yards, because the shipping is atrocious otherwise, and not only does it take two months for it to arrive, but it’s a soft peach instead of an antique off-white. So yes, it is very much bad. And before you offer the option? No, I’m not dyeing the fabric. It’s an exceedingly precise process, and the fabric is already too dark, so... no luck there,” she fumed. Why was her life like this some days?
