Arthur Thatcher stood hunched over his workbench, carefully stitching the final hem of a nobleman’s coat. The rhythmic sound of needle piercing cloth was the only noise in the small, cluttered room. Edwin watched his father in silence, the weight of his decision heavy in the air between them.
“Father,” Edwin began, his voice breaking the stillness. Arthur did not look up, but his hands paused, hovering over the fabric as if bracing for what was to come. “I’ve made a decision.”
Arthur’s fingers resumed their work, moving with the precision of years of practice. “I suspected as much,” he replied, his tone resigned, though not unkind. “You’ve always been different, Edwin. You’ve always wanted more than what this shop can offer.”
Edwin stepped closer, his eyes on the careful stitching, watching the way his father’s hands moved with both strength and grace. “It’s not that I don’t value what we have here,” he said, his voice filled with earnestness. “But I’ve been given an opportunity, a chance to step into the world we’ve only ever glimpsed through the clothes we make.”
Arthur sighed, setting the coat aside and finally looking up at his son. His eyes, still sharp despite the years, searched Edwin’s face. “And this opportunity… it comes from Lord Cedric?”
Edwin nodded. “Yes. He’s offered to help me, but only if I’m ready to step into that world, fully prepared.”
Arthur’s gaze softened, and he reached out, placing a hand on Edwin’s shoulder. “I’ve always known this day might come. But it’s not an easy world, Edwin. It’s one of appearances, of power, and deception. Once you step into it, there’s no turning back.”
“I know, Father,” Edwin replied, his resolve firm. “But I’m ready. I’ve learned so much from you, and now I want to take those lessons and apply them in a way that can change our lives, both yours and mine.”
Arthur’s hand fell away, and he turned back to his workbench, silent for a moment. Then, with a nod of acceptance, he said, “If this is what you truly want, then you’ll need to look the part. A gentleman is judged first by his appearance, and you’ll need to present yourself as one from the very start.”
Edwin’s heart lifted, though his expression remained composed. “I’ve thought about that,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small pouch. He placed it on the bench in front of his father. “It’s not much, but it’s my savings. I want you to tailor me something worthy of the opportunity. Something that will make them see me as more than just the son of a tailor.”
Arthur looked at the pouch, then back at his son. There was a mixture of pride and sadness in his eyes, but he did not argue. Instead, he simply nodded. “Very well. We’ll need to choose the right fabric, the right cut… everything must be perfect.”
The work began that very day, but it would take several more before the suit was completed. Each day, Edwin and Arthur moved through the shop together, selecting the finest materials and making meticulous adjustments. Edwin chose a deep charcoal wool for the suit, with a subtle pattern that caught the light in a way that spoke of understated elegance. For the waistcoat, they selected a rich, dark green velvet, to bring a hint of color without being ostentatious. The shirt would be a crisp, white linen, soft to the touch but structured enough to hold its shape beneath the tailored jacket.
As Arthur worked, Edwin assisted, his hands deftly measuring, cutting, and pressing the fabric. It was a dance they had performed many times before, but today it felt different. Every stitch, every fold of fabric seemed to carry the weight of the future Edwin was about to step into. There was a solemnity to the task, as though both father and son understood that this was more than just clothing—it was armor, a shield that would help Edwin navigate the treacherous waters of the noble world.
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When the basic structure of the suit was complete, Arthur turned to Edwin with a thoughtful expression. “The suit will be the foundation,” he said, “but you’ll need more than that. The right accessories will make all the difference.”
Edwin knew his father was right. A gentleman’s appearance was more than just his clothing; it was the sum of every detail. The next day, Edwin set out into the heart of Eldralis to find the items that would complete his transformation.
His first stop was a hatter’s shop, tucked away in a narrow alley that smelled of leather and beeswax. The shopkeeper, an elderly man with a sharp eye, guided Edwin through a selection of fine hats. After careful consideration, Edwin chose a bowler of black felt, its brim just wide enough to cast a slight shadow over his face. The hat was understated, yet refined, a piece that would complement his suit without drawing too much attention.
Next, Edwin visited a cobbler known for crafting the finest shoes in the city. The shop was small, but the smell of polished leather and the soft clink of tools working on soles spoke of quality. After trying several pairs, Edwin selected a pair of black oxford shoes, their leather smooth and supple, with a shine that reflected the light like glass. The fit was perfect, the shoes both comfortable and elegant, ready to carry him through the long days ahead.
As he left the cobbler, Edwin’s eye caught a small, unassuming shop on the corner of the street. Its windows displayed a selection of canes and umbrellas, each one more delicate and finely crafted than the last. He entered the shop, greeted by the quiet murmur of wood and metal. The shopkeeper, a man with a meticulous appearance, offered Edwin a selection of canes.
After careful deliberation, Edwin chose a cane with a polished wooden shaft, topped with delicate silver detailing that curled into a simple, elegant design. There were no bold figures or gaudy embellishments—just an understated symbol of refinement and authority. The cane felt right in his hand, its weight balanced perfectly, a tool of both practicality and presence.
His final stop was a barber’s shop, where the smell of shaving soap and the sound of scissors snipping filled the air. The barber, a man with a steady hand and an eye for detail, trimmed Edwin’s hair with precision, shaping it into a style that spoke of both tradition and modernity. A straight razor shave followed, leaving Edwin’s face smooth and his jawline sharp. As he looked in the mirror, he barely recognized the man staring back—a transformation had taken place, one that went beyond mere appearance.
When Edwin returned to the tailor shop, Arthur was waiting with the finished suit. The final days had been spent perfecting every detail—the line of the jacket, the taper of the trousers, the stitching of the waistcoat. Now, all the pieces were ready.
“Try them on,” Arthur said, handing the garments to his son.
Edwin donned each piece with care, starting with the crisp linen shirt, then the velvet waistcoat, and finally the jacket. The fabric slid over his skin like a second layer, the fit perfect, tailored precisely to his frame. He added the finishing touches—the bowler hat, the black gloves, the cane, and the pocket square, folded neatly into the breast pocket of his jacket.
Arthur stepped back, his eyes taking in the full effect. “The suit is flawless,” he said quietly, “but it’s the man inside it that matters most. You look like you belong, Edwin.”
Edwin nodded, smoothing the lapels of his jacket, feeling the weight of the moment settle over him. “Thank you, Father,” he said, his voice steady. “For everything.”
Arthur adjusted the collar of Edwin’s shirt, his hands lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. “Remember,” he said softly, “a gentleman is more than just his clothes. But how you present yourself will open doors. Wear this with pride, and let it remind you of who you are and where you come from.”
“I will,” Edwin promised, looking at his father with deep respect. “I’ll make you proud.”
Arthur nodded, his hand resting briefly on Edwin’s shoulder before he stepped back. “You already have.”
With one last look in the mirror, Edwin saw not just the son of a tailor, but a man ready to step into a world of opportunity and danger. The suit felt like armor, the fabric both a comfort and a reminder of the man he was becoming.
He squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and with a final nod to his father, he stepped out of the shop and into the evening light, ready to face what awaited him.