He had felt it before, but right now, as she sat there assessing Rowan and his skills, it was even more obvious.
Milo, noticing Karl’s distracted expression, leaned in close, his frame pressing against Karl’s side. His voice was barely a whisper, meant for Karl’s ears only.
"Brother Karl, what did they talk about?" Milo’s soft breath tickled Karl’s ear as he spoke, his tone full of quiet curiosity.
Karl blinked and glanced down at him, seeing the innocent expectation in his brown eyes. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Work-related. Sewing," Karl muttered slowly, keeping his voice low.
Milo sighed in relief, his shoulders relaxing. So, nothing serious. But then, his eyes landed on the purse in Ruby’s hands, and they lit up with curiosity. He liked it!
Julian, who had also overheard the conversation, exhaled softly, his usual gentle expression returning as he turned his attention back to the guests.
After finishing breakfast and tea, Ethan leaned back slightly and smiled. "The snacks and tea were delicious. Thank you for the effort."
Julian gave a small nod, while Milo grinned. "It’s no trouble! We like taking care of guests."
Ruby, who had remained quiet for a moment, finally turned her gaze toward Eilas, her expression unreadable.
She studied him for a brief second before speaking. "Now, it’s your turn," she said, sliding another piece of fabric across the table.
Eilas straightened, his hands instinctively moving toward the fabric as if eager to prove himself. His face held determination, but there was also a hint of nervousness.
Eilas took a deep breath, his fingers hovering over the fabric. He knew he was skilled, but unlike Rowan, who always carried a sense of confidence, he struggled with self-doubt. It wasn’t that he lacked ability; it was just that whenever he overthought, his hands would hesitate, and that was when mistakes happened.
Rowan, noticing the slight tension in Eilas’ expression, didn’t say anything. Instead, he reached out and gently squeezed Eilas’ hand–a silent reassurance.
Eilas blinked at the unexpected touch, then looked at Rowan, who gave him a small nod, his deep-set eyes calm and warm.
You’ve got this. Don’t overthink.
Understanding the silent message, Eilas inhaled deeply, then let out a slow breath.
Eilas looked at Ruby, his voice steady but uncertain. "Miss Ruby, what should I make?"
Ruby rubbed her chin thoughtfully, her red eyes locking onto his, studying him with quiet intensity. She could see the slight nervousness in his posture, the way his fingers twitched subtly near the fabric.
After a brief pause, she spoke. "Make a handkerchief. But not just any handkerchief, I want it to have clean, decorative edges. Something neat, something elegant. Can you do that?"
Her voice was calm, but there was a quiet challenge in her words, as if testing whether he would hesitate or step up.
Eilas swallowed, then nodded firmly. "I can do it."
Rowan, still beside him, gave a small, approving nod, while Milo watched curiously, eager to see how this would turn out.
Julian found himself staring at his wife, completely mesmerized.
She sat with her legs crossed elegantly, one knee resting over the other in a way that demanded attention. Her back was straight. One hand rested lightly on her knee, while the other supported her chin, her fingers gently curled beneath her lips as she observed Eilas.
Her long, white hair cascaded over her back and shoulders, silky strands framing her face perfectly. And those lips plump and luscious, slightly parted in thought.
But it was her eyes that captivated him the most. Sharp, red like polished rubies just like her name. Beautifull and piercing, as if she could see straight through people, judging them in ways they didn’t even realize.
Julian swallowed hard.
Why is my wife so hot?!
He exhaled slowly, shifting slightly in his place, but he couldn’t look away.
Elias finally finished the handkerchief and, with a hint of nervousness, handed it to Ruby. His fingers twitched slightly as he passed it over.
Ruby took the dusty rose-colored handkerchief, her red eyes scanning it carefully.
He had crafted it with precision, the edges were neatly hemmed, each stitch small and even, creating a smooth, seamless finish. Instead of anything overly decorative, he had chosen to keep it simple but elegant, folding the edges inward with a clean, straight stitch that prevented fraying.
Despite the simplicity, it had a refined touch. There were no loose threads, no uneven seams, just a perfectly sewn, delicate piece of fabric that was both practical and beautiful.
Ruby ran her fingers over the fabric, testing the strength of the stitches. They held firm. He had done well.
She lifted her gaze back to Rowan, who was watching her intently, his posture stiff.
Ethan’s expression turned serious as he watched Ruby examine the handkerchief. He truly hoped she would hire them.
Even though Rowan and Eilas were skilled, they had been rejected by others–not because of their work but because of their past. People looked down on widowed ghost, considering them unlucky or incapable of standing on their own. It was unfair, but reality had never been kind to them.
Ethan knew Ruby was different, yet a part of him still held his breath, waiting for her decision.
Rowan, unable to stay silent any longer, spoke first. "So, Miss Ruby, what do you think?" His voice was calm, but there was a quiet sense of urgency behind it.
He needed this job. They needed this job.
Their house was barely holding up anymore; it needed repairs before the monsoon arrived. The leaking roof, cracked walls, and broken floors near the bathroom were getting worse each day. The house was weak and old, and with Nono, their little boy, to take care of, fixing it had become even more urgent.
That child deserved better. Even if they couldn’t afford much, at the very least, they wanted to send him to basic school, to give him a chance to learn. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to continue school later, but at least he would know how to read and write, how to count. They had to try.
Rowan clenched his hands, waiting for Ruby’s answer, his heart pounding against his ribs.
—To be continued...🪄