Goodbye Saintess (by Edelweiss W.S.) novel Chapter 193

**The Unseen Kingdom That Followed Me Into Every Dream by Alyndra Meron Valeen 193**

Claire began rummaging through the chaotic piles of her clothes, her fingers deftly sifting through the fabric as if she were searching for hidden treasure.

It quickly dawned on me that her claim of having “method in her messiness” was more than just a quirky saying; it was a genuine reflection of her unique approach to organization. With an almost magical intuition, she unearthed exactly what she had been searching for amidst the disarray.

“Here you go! These are yours now,” she announced triumphantly, holding up the garments with a flourish. “They’re tailor-made just for you, so they should fit like a glove.”

To my surprise, what she revealed was a crisp white shirt paired with a sleek black coat—a semi-formal day suit, if you will.

“Why not give it a try?” she encouraged, her enthusiasm palpable.

I nodded, accepting the clothes from her hands. As I caught a glimpse of her eager expression, I couldn’t resist teasing her a little. “How did you know it would fit me perfectly? Were you secretly spying on me during my showers?”

In an instant, Claire froze, her cheeks flushing a bright crimson. “What?! My family has a long history of being tailors and seamstresses! I can gauge your size with just a glance—or maybe two!”

In her mind, a flurry of thoughts raced. ‘If I had known he would ask something like that… I might have actually considered spying on him…’

As I began to dress, I remarked, “It truly is a perfect fit,” completely oblivious to her flustered state.

I noticed the meticulously adorned lapel and collar, which added a touch of elegance. “This feels bespoke, Claire. It’s not just any ordinary suit.”

“That’s because it is bespoke! Why settle for the mundane when I can offer you something tailored?” she responded, clearly delighted with her work. “You know, you kind of look like a real estate agent! How does it feel? Is the fabric comfortable?”

Comfortable didn’t quite capture it. The fabric was luxuriously soft, flexible, and smooth against my skin. Even I, with my limited fashion sense, could recognize its premium quality. Yet, I felt something peculiar pressing against my neck from the collar.

“It’s a bit snug. For some reason, the collar is chafing me a little,” I admitted, reaching up to adjust it.

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