Wei Wei felt that Felix was hiding something from her.
Not just him—it seemed like everyone in the earl's residence was in on some secret, though not all of them. For instance, Dolores and their maids appeared oblivious.
This wasn't just her imagination. Even Dolores had vaguely picked up on it.
"I wonder what Brother is up to. He's being so mysterious."
The Pradi Empire didn't celebrate the New Year—or rather, Europe at this time didn't have such customs. Even in later eras, Europe celebrated Christmas Eve and Christmas. Of course, before the 19th century, Christmas and Santa Claus had no connection. It was simply the "Christ Mass" commemorating Jesus' birth.
As for whether Jesus was actually born on this day, even the Bible didn't record it. December 25th originally marked the Roman Empire's Saturnalia, a festival welcoming the new year. Later, with the rise of religion, it evolved into Christmas, absorbing elements of Roman mythology along the way.
Thus, at this time, Christmas wasn't as significant as it would become. Many European regions didn't celebrate it—especially the Pradi Empire, which had a strained relationship with the Church.
This was a good thing for the empire's people. If they celebrated Christmas, they'd have to observe a month-long fast beforehand.
For commoners, simply having beans and barley to fill their stomachs in winter was already a blessing. The meat was a luxury in this season. But nobles couldn't tolerate such deprivation.
In the Pradi Empire, especially the capital, November and December were the peak of the "social season," filled with balls and banquets. Due to various religious holidays, they already had to fast frequently—for much of the year, they couldn't eat meat (though "aquatic products" were allowed). Adding another fast during this time would be unbearable. How could banquet hosts cope? Serving insufficient meat at a feast would be a grave faux pas.
So Christmas? No, no, we don't celebrate that!
Of course, despite their strained ties with the Church, on December 24th—Christmas Eve—everyone still made a token effort to attend midnight mass. Thus, this day became a rare occasion without banquet invitations—since everyone needed to rest before dragging themselves out of bed in the middle of the night.
It was precisely because today was Christmas Eve that Wei Wei and Dolores had the leisure to stay home and do needlework.
Dolores was embroidering flowers—her first large-scale project, a meter-wide floral design. The draft was drawn by Wei Wei, and it would likely occupy her for a year.
Wei Wei, meanwhile, was working on her wedding dress.
Following Chinese customs, Wei Wei should have prepared a red bridal gown. Around this era, the phoenix coronet and ceremonial robes (凤冠霞帔) were gaining popularity, becoming the standard bridal attire for Chinese women.
Personally, Wei Wei preferred traditional Chinese bridal wear—not the phoenix coronet and red veil style, but the earlier Han and Tang dynasty fashions.
Unfortunately, even the cleverest housewife couldn't cook without rice. Such gowns required silk fabric, which Wei Wei couldn't obtain. Moreover, though the Pradi Empire's relationship with the Church was tense, marriage was only legally recognized if registered in a church. Imagining herself in a bright red Chinese gown amidst a sea of European attire would be jarring.
Reluctantly abandoning the idea, Wei Wei settled on making a wedding dress.
European bridal wear at this time differed greatly from later eras. Before the 19th century, there were no fixed standards for wedding dresses—they simply followed contemporary fashion trends. Colors varied freely: blue, red, gold, green—any hue was acceptable as long as the decorations were lavish enough to signify the occasion's grandeur.
Moreover, wedding dresses weren't single-use. After the ceremony, they became regular formal wear for banquets.
The concept of a "wedding dress" didn't yet exist. The fabrics used in later eras were unavailable now, and satin was only found in the East. Under normal circumstances, Wei Wei shouldn't have been able to create a modern-style wedding dress.
But she happened to have a stock of seemingly useless silk fabric—remnants from the game outfits the system had dismantled upon her transmigration for being "too revealing for this era's fashion."
Those game costumes were made of high-end materials like brocade and silk. Wei Wei had collected numerous styles in large quantities, with white being the predominant color. After the system dismantled them, she didn't know what to do with the fabric—until she realized it could be pieced together into a satin wedding dress.
In an era when silk was a rare luxury in Europe—where even a silk handkerchief could spark admiration—a wedding dress entirely of brocade, even without embellishments, would drive women wild with desire.
Such a dress, on European soil, could arguably be traded for a sizable fiefdom if she wished.
Owning such a gown would undoubtedly make Wei Wei the center of attention while showcasing her family's wealth.
Since Felix was eager to marry, Wei Wei had designed a relatively simple dress emphasizing cut and silhouette—a distinctly modern aesthetic.
Thus, the dress hadn't taken long to complete.
But after finishing it, the wedding was postponed. Revisiting the dress left behind in Sardinson, Wei Wei felt something was missing.
After much thought, it struck her: she'd forgotten the veil—a crucial accessory.
So recently, she'd been busy making one.
Coincidentally, since her game outfits weren't traditional Hanfu but stylized designs, some included translucent overshirts. She selected a pure white one, dismantled it, and repurposed it into a veil.
The original overshirt had no decorations, and the dismantling and resewing left visible seams. Finding this unsightly, Wei Wei took up a shuttle to weave lace, then stitched it over the seams for coverage.
True lace didn't exist in this era. What passed for "lace" then were simply braided cords, not the delicate, ubiquitous trims of later centuries.
But that was before. Setting aside how Wei Wei had already taught Dolores the craft in Sardinson, ever since the lace-trimmed gown gifted to Queen Mirabelle, people had recognized its beauty. While intricate lace patterns remained elusive, clever and dexterous weavers had begun experimenting with fine linen and cotton threads to produce similar effects.
Of course, they hadn't yet discovered the ideal tools. Wei Wei's shuttle was crafted by a carpenter—a modified version of a weaving shuttle.
Now, Wei Wei was weaving lace from cotton thread—elaborate, ornate patterns of flowers and vines that would form the veil's border, complementing the lace strips concealing the seams for a stunning overall effect.
Hearing Dolores' complaint, her fingers never slowed as she casually replied, "You've noticed he's up to something too?"
"Up to something"—quite the fitting phrase.
Dolores nodded. "Last time, I saw Brother huddled with servants, whispering. The moment I approached, they scattered. What do you think he's doing, Sister Wei?"
"Probably planning a surprise." Wei Wei harbored no suspicions of Felix betraying her. Lately, he'd been practically glowing, clinging to her whenever possible—hardly the behavior of a guilty man.
Especially after her recent warning.
"What kind of surprise? Preparing a banquet?" Dolores tilted her head. "But our home doesn't seem decorated."
"Who knows? But since it's a surprise, we'll just have to wait and see."
That evening, when Felix returned for dinner, Dolores—having grown closer to him through recent outings—couldn't contain her curiosity and outright asked.
Felix first glanced at Wei Wei. Finding her smiling but unreadable, he nervously replied, "Wei's right. If it's a surprise, I can't tell you now."
The girls exchanged looks. Fine, they wouldn't pry.
However, during midnight mass, Wei Wei accidentally uncovered Felix's so-called surprise.
Held in the cathedral with all the nobility—including the king and queen—in attendance, the ceremony was undeniably solemn. But as someone who, if she worshipped anything, leaned toward Eastern deities, Wei Wei found the archbishop's recitations in one ear and out the other, fighting drowsiness while maintaining an attentive facade.
Heaven knew she hadn't pulled an all-nighter since arriving in this world. Originally, she'd planned to nap before going out, but confident in her night owl experience and worried she wouldn't sleep afterward, she'd skipped it—now regretting the decision as yawns threatened.
A miscalculation indeed.
When mass finally ended, just as they were boarding their carriage, a noble seized the moment to chat with Felix, forcing Wei Wei to smile and play along.
Then the noble accidentally let slip: "Your wedding will be held here too, right…"
Wei Wei's foggy brain took a moment to process this.
Felix froze mid-smile, and the noble, realizing his blunder, hastily excused himself.
Only then did comprehension dawn. "Wedding?" Covering a yawn, her eyes teary, she echoed, "So this is your surprise?"
Felix nearly mistook her tears for distress before recognizing sheer exhaustion. His mixed feelings about the spoiled surprise left him at a loss.
Ushering her into the carriage, he confessed once they were moving, "Since you've found out, I won't hide it anymore."
Their capital trip had disrupted Felix's wedding plans. Post-queen's birthday banquet, declining invitations from major nobles forced them to delay returning to Sardinson—and the wedding.
While unavoidable, Felix had vented to Allen over drinks, who then suggested holding the wedding in the capital.
"How many guests could you invite in Sardinson? A few neighboring lords at most. Would that compare to a capital wedding's grandeur?"
Moreover, wouldn't attendees bring gifts? Prestige plus profit—far more advantageous than a Sardinian ceremony.
"After marrying here, you can still celebrate upon returning."
Felix was instantly persuaded.
What truly swayed him was that a capital wedding would have the entire nobility as witnesses, cementing Wei Wei's social standing. With the king's attendance, its prestige would soar.
Given Felix's current royal favor, the king would surely grace the event.
Allen even offered his maternal family's estate for the banquet. As heir to his mother's title with no other male relatives, the property was his to lend—far more spacious than Felix's modest residence, which could only accommodate small gatherings.
With the venue settled plans proceeded.
Felix sent word to Sardinson for their wedding attire while preparing for a January 1st ceremony.
Decided shortly after their capital arrival in late November, by Christmas, swift riders had nearly delivered the gown.
Felix had intended to reveal the surprise upon its arrival, but the premature disclosure left him mortified.
Wei Wei, however, felt more shock than delight. She even rolled her eyes. "What if the gown doesn't arrive in time? In this snow, any mishap could delay it."
Then what would she wear?
Felix coughed. "As a precaution, I commissioned backup outfits—for both of us—in the latest style."
The latest style, meaning her designs. How could they compare to her gown?
To preserve the surprise, only Wei Wei and her two maids had seen the dress—not even Dolores. If she couldn't wear it, all that effort would be wasted.
"If it's delayed, we'll celebrate returning where you can still wear it."
Wei Wei declined. "Celebrate, yes. Another wedding, no. I won't go through that hassle twice."
However, in later eras, holding ceremonies on both sides wasn't uncommon.
Felix didn't correct her misunderstanding. A second church ceremony would be inauspicious—he'd meant only a banquet.
But with Wei Wei displeased, placating her took priority.
Her frustration wasn't affectation. With the gown's arrival uncertain and her veil unfinished, learning the wedding was days away meant racing against time—all while worrying whether the dress would make it.
Moreover, Felix's suit—a black tuxedo of her design tailored from cashmere ("soft gold")—might never be worn again if not for the wedding. What a waste!
Fortunately, matters unfolded as Felix predicted. Two days later, their wedding attire—including shoes—arrived intact.
Wei Wei immediately inspected both outfits. Her gown was impeccably preserved, while the cashmere suit matched her specifications perfectly: a three-piece set with a bow tie, its minimalist cut unparalleled for the era.
Placing them side by side on the bed—black and white, perfectly paired—they embodied her ideal wedding attire.
After admiring them, she stored her gown and left the suit for Felix to try on later.
No longer hiding his plans, Felix had been making final preparations at Allen's estate, even skipping some banquets. With invitations already sent and the king attending, other nobles had cleared their schedules for January 1st to avoid hosting poorly attended events.
After all, aligning with royal preferences was second nature.
Qin and Penny, now aware of the wedding, temporarily entrusted the children to hired caretakers and returned to assist.
With Dolores and four maids helping, Wei Wei finished the veil just in time.
Though busy, Felix rushed back upon hearing the attire had arrived—eager to see the gown Wei Wei had kept secret. But her maids remained tight-lipped.
His curiosity only grew upon seeing his suit.
"It looks... unusual."
Holding the tuxedo, "strange" was the word on his tongue. The snug, body-hugging cut made him doubt it would fit.
"Try it first. We'll adjust if needed." Given it was tailored to his measurements from two months ago—when he was slightly heavier—it should fit if not be loose.
Though the design was unfamiliar, the dressing method was intuitive. After studying it, Felix suited up.
Emerging from the dressing room, he adjusted the high collar uncomfortably. "This is quite restrictive. I doubt I could move freely."
"But you look incredible!" Wei Wei circled him, eyes shining.
With his golden hair, emerald eyes, and striking features, Felix already fit her aesthetic ideals. Even the era's questionable male fashion couldn't diminish his looks—but the suit elevated his handsomeness exponentially, stunning Wei Wei and the onlooking maids and Dolores alike.
There was something irresistibly alluring about him—an urge to undress him just to admire the view.
"Brother looks amazing like this," Dolores agreed, cheeks pink for reasons she couldn't explain.
Wei Wei adjusted his details, tied his bow tie, and steered him toward a full-length mirror.
"Trust me, in this, you'll be the most dashing groom." Circling him excitedly, she checked for alterations while adding, "I almost don't want to share you."
This was the first time Felix had seen admiration in Wei Wei's eyes—along with lavish praise that warmed him through. Any dislike for the restrictive suit vanished as he preened before the slightly blurred mirror, finding his reflection increasingly appealing. The ensemble exuded a unique sophistication unmatched by traditional bridal wear.
And since his fiancée loved it, even if it wasn't Pradi's custom, he'd gladly wear it waiting for her at the altar.