"She wants nothing to do with him... He would be miserable without her."
******
Meet Sophie Franklin, a fiercely independent fashion designer who lives in New York, and then there's Marcus Beadoux, a dashing prince with...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
(Please note: Some parts are in a different language. I already translated them and placed it in brackets so you can understand what is being said. With that done, let's all enjoy reading!)
Walking around the bustling textile shop, surrounded by bolts of fabric in every color and texture imaginable, I start getting busy. The air in the textile shop is filled with the familiar scent of fabrics, each roll holding endless possibilities for the perfect wedding gown. I run my fingers over the silks, considering the texture, envisioning how they will drape and flow. It's a crucial decision, and I need everything to be just right.
As I scrutinize the fabrics, an attendant approaches, offering assistance. "Kan ik u helpen iets specifieks te vinden?" (Can I help you find something specific?) She speaks, but I have no idea what she's saying. Lost, I look around before sheepishly gesturing that I didn't understand. She looks surprised, but before she can speak, someone interrupts.
"She's asking if you need any help." A voice says above me, and it turns out to be Marcus. I turn to look at him, surprised. When did he get so close? Remembering what he said, I quickly reply.
"Oh... Not really. I'm just trying to find the perfect material for a wedding dress." I say, shaking my hands in a polite manner.
Marcus nods, turning to the lady and translating whatever I just said to her. Her eyes widen in understanding, and a warm smile hits her lips.
'Natuurlijk. Deze kant op, alstublieft.' (Of course, this way please.)
She gestures with her hand, and after casting a puzzled expression at Marcus, who nods that it's alright, I follow her. Leading me through the shelves, she presents various materials, doing her best to explain with broken English sentences or with Marcus's assistance. Her knowledge proves invaluable, and together we narrow down the choices. After careful consideration, I settle on a combination of silk and lace that promises to bring out the regality in Reina's gown.
With my selections in hand, we head to the counter for the purchase. However, as I reach for my wallet, the attendant stops me. Confused, I stare at her, my eyebrows knit in confusion. She glances behind me, and I follow her gaze to find Marcus standing there, a few meters away from me and a knowing look on his face. I'm already guessing he paid for everything.
Chuckling awkwardly, I stretch out my card anywhere. "Oh no... I can't accept that. Could you return the payment?" I ask. "I want to pay for myself."
Slowly but resolutely, she shakes her head. "U heeft veel geluk, mevrouw. Uw man hier heeft een verfijnde smaak en oog voor kwaliteit." (You're very lucky, Miss. Your man here has exquisite taste and an eye for quality.) She says, but I have no idea what it means. Giving her a half-hearted smile, I pick up my things and walk away from her presence. If only she knew he was my client's fiancé and this is purely a business transaction.
"Have a nice day!" She speaks in English, though heavily accented and unclear. I pause, glancing back at her with a confused expression on my face. Did she know the language all along?
