As she spoke, she tugged lightly at her worn sleeve, as though to prove her plight.
William stared at her, his expression shifting again and again.
"And… Lady Caelith?" he asked, his voice tightening slightly. "Your cousin—how is she?"
Yvaine let out a quiet, inward scoff.
Outwardly, however, her expression grew even more sorrowful.
"My sister?" she said softly. "She suffers even more. Every day she rises before dawn and works until nightfall, selling embroidery at the market just to earn a few coins for rice. The clothes she wears… are even worse than mine."
She glanced back toward the clothing shop, biting her lip as if in helpless longing.
"I only came out today hoping to buy her something decent to wear… but…"
Her voice trailed off.
William followed her gaze.
His eyes landed on the pale moon-white dress inside the shop.
He fell silent.
Then, without another word, he reached into his robe and pulled out a bulging purse, pressing it into Yvaine's hands.
