Prompt: Royal Tailor Niss
Liv pricked her finger again and had to bite her lip to keep from swearing. She should have practiced hand sewing more. Her other techniques were flawless, she was able to blend in perfectly, but the tiny hemming stitches required for gowns made with finicky fabrics were more difficult. If she was not careful, they could give her away.
She continued sewing as if nothing had happened, hesitating for only a second to be sure she was not bleeding onto the cloth.
“Niss,” someone called. Liv concentrated, pushing the needle through an enormous cloth fold to make a pleat. “Tailor Niss,” a hand touched her shoulder.
Liv forced herself not to jump, but she jabbed herself again. That’s right, she reminded herself, my name is Niss now.
Notes: This is revlevant to my story The Plague Master, though I'm not sure it will ever be used.