Chapter 19 A Man in Silver Armour

Before dawn, Susan left home and went to the palace gate to line up.

Shadow said the court seamstress's salary is good, and there will be a lot of tailors from all over the country to apply. He suggested she arrive as early as possible. Susan thought that if she didn't want to wait all day outside the palace gate on an empty stomach, she had better get there early.

But by the time Susan reached the square street, she could already see the line outside the palace gate, where at least thirty seamstresses were already waiting.

From the back gate of the palace, the long line along the outer wall painted white went all the way to the street. It would be funny to look down from the tower of the palace. The seamstresses, dressed in shabby grey gowns, stood like a stain stream leaking from the back of the kitchen on the white flagstone sidewalk.

Susan sighed quietly, tightened her scarf around her shoulders, and lined up at the end of the line.

The cold early winter breeze penetrated Susan's neck through the cracks in her scarf and made her shiver. She resisted the urge to shrink her neck and tuck her hands into her sleeves. Who knew if someone behind the window inside that palace door would be peering at these candidate seamstresses? Such tricks have long been played by the interview officers of the 21st century. If she wanted to make a good impression on the lady interviewer, she had to mind her manners from now on.

At that moment, Susan saw the seamstress in front of her in line, quietly from the basket on her arm, fished out a small bottle, took a quick sip, and tucked it back in. Susan smelled a faint smell of alcohol. She was surprised. How did the woman still dare to drink before the court interview?

In front of Susan, the seamstress who had finished her drink seemed in spirits. She turned around and saw Susan behind her, raising her eyebrows in astonishment.

Susan saw a middle-aged woman with a red nose, plump cheeks, and small eyes. She was as strong as a man. As she turned to face Susan, Susan smelled the stronger smell of alcohol and couldn't help but take a slight step back.

The seamstress looked at Susan and, with a heavy nasal voice, asked,

"Where did you come from? Little girl? This is not a dole line. If you want the bread go to the temple, little one."

Susan ignored the "little girl" and "bread" she replied, "I am here to apply for the court seamstress."

The seamstress widened her eyes in surprise, then laughed: "Look, everyone, the little girl says she wants to apply for the court seamstress."

A dozen seamstresses in line in front of them all turned back, and Susan realized that most of them were middle-aged women. Some of them should even be the age of grandmothers. Seeing Susan's age, those women let out a burst of laughter.

Susan frowned slightly.

"Poor little girl, who send you here? Go home quickly. This is not a job that you can apply for just because you have fixed a few torn clothes." A middle-aged seamstress said mockingly.

"Maybe she has heard that the court seamstress's salary is six gold coins a year, which is the same as the salary of the Chief of police in Silvermoon City. Do you think it is just anyone can get? Every year can meet such fools." Someone scoffed.

"Don't be silly, you stinky women. Maybe she has a good hand, a wonderful skill, doesn't she?" the seamstress, who was drinking secretly before, saw the small basket held in Susan's hand and grabbed it, "Let me see your handiwork."

Susan was shocked by the woman. She took it back quickly and hid the basket behind her. But she was too thin and weak to match the strong woman, and the basket was snatched away by the woman in just a few seconds.

The woman picked up the clothing from the basket impatiently and then dumped all the things in the basket on the ground. The envelope which contained the school diploma and recommendation letter that Susan had hidden under the clothes also fell out and was blown by the cold wind and floated far away.

The seamstresses laughed out loud.

Susan didn't have time to be angry with them and hurried to pick up her envelope. But at this time, a hand before her picked up the envelope, a man's hand.

Susan raised her face in surprise and saw a man in silver armor standing in front of her.

He was tall, almost as tall as Shadow. His blond curls, dampened by the morning mist, hung down beside his handsome face. His eyes were as dark as ink, and his lips were thin. If it weren't for his armor, he would look more like the handsome and charming male protagonist in the theater, the kind that would make the female audience scream and go crazy.

After touching the man's cold gaze, Susan woke up. She quickly lowered her eyes and made a curtsy: "My lord, this is the envelope I dropped. May I have it back?"