Work Text:
Mirabel looked despairingly at the loom Bruno had made her as an engagement present. No, not because of anything about the loom itself; it was as much of a happy surprise as that letter from the bishop that had arrived a few days before. She was instead upset about how little was on the cloth roll and how much was still on the warp beam - there was no way she’d finish that ruana in time for the wedding.
As she looked through her fabric, though, she found a piece of green cotton flannel, measured against her too-accurate memory, and grinned.