The moment I stepped into the workroom, the weight of Estelle's design felt heavier than ever. I stared at the tattered fabric I'd scavenged during the hunt and sighed. It was barely enough to make a patchwork scarf, let alone a gown that could rival Estelle's masterpiece. My workstation loomed ahead, barren and uninviting.
But then, something caught my eye—a faint glimmer of light reflecting off the base of the table.
I frowned, crouching down to inspect it more closely. My fingers brushed against the edge of what seemed to be a chest, tucked neatly under the table. Its polished wooden surface gleamed faintly, and an intricate crest was etched onto the lid.
"What on earth?" I murmured, pulling it out and flipping open the latch.
Inside, there was a folded piece of paper resting on top of neatly stacked fabrics. I unfolded the note, my pulse quickening as I recognized the bold, elegant handwriting.
