*With anymore friction, Aglaea's loom would catch fire. Even the Garmentmakers' fingers are worn back, their outer layers starting to wear down. Her fingers are pinched tightly on her brow as the midst of this project really start to wear on her. Just another day more on the deadline and she'd calm down significantly. It doesn't help when so many garments are for memorial services. So much death is hard on the mind, even if it wasn't someone close, it was still one of Okhema's people. The creaking of it all is about to make her pull her hair out when the doorbell rings. Her mind is taken out of the strain as she puts on a hospitable smile. The Garmentmakers pause and she opens the door with a gentle grace.*

Aglaea: "Why hello there, what can I do for you? Did you require anything? Come in, we'll discuss it over afternoon tea. Excuse the mess, a dressmaker's work isn't always pretty." *She keeps her kind look as she guides them through a flawless workshop to a more inviting room.*