A Royal Wedding

* This dream was recorded on May 20, 2018. The record was originally written in Chinese, and translated to English later by myself.

I found myself in Japan, attending an aristocratic wedding. I sat unnoticed in a dimly lit corner; beside me was an elderly woman—plainly dressed yet exuding an air of quiet authority—who sewed silently without speaking to me. She was a master tailor of great renown, commissioned to craft garments for the nobility and the royal family; she had created the wedding attire, while I was her apprentice, not yet fully trained. I sat timidly in the shadows, silently observing the opulent scene. Noblewomen—the bride’s mother and the housekeeper—were whispering arrangements across the hall; I knew that if discovered, I would be cast out for my lowly status.

Suddenly, the hall doors opened, revealing a distinguished couple. (Later, upon seeing the news, I realized with a start that the scene mirrored Prince Harry’s wedding—the bride’s gown in my dream resembled the one worn by the royal bride. Although I hadn't seen the news at the time, such coincidental premonitions have occurred frequently in my dreams, so it came as no surprise.) Yet, the wedding did not proceed smoothly; a commotion broke out as someone of "unfitting" status appeared, drawing everyone's attention. The groom, furious, locked himself in a room to the left of the main entrance, and the bride had vanished. A dramatic male voice rang out, demanding the expulsion of the lowly intruders: "If you wish to be comfortable, stay away from this stage!"

Just then, the female vocalist invited to perform at the wedding appeared and shouted, "Wait!" It turned out that the "lowly" figures in the hall were her parents; they handed her something before leaving. Clutching this precious gift, the singer ran back up the spiral staircase to the center of the stage; the music swelled, and her beautiful voice filled the air. The wedding was able to proceed.

However, this little incident drew the attention of the bride’s mother—that noble lady—and her housekeeper. They sternly demanded to know how I had gotten in. I cast a pleading glance at the respected seamstress beside me, but she simply kept her head down, showing no intention of speaking up for me; I was left to whisper that I had come to deliver a hand-sewn gown. Their expressions instantly softened into friendly smiles, and they allowed me to remain at the wedding. Finally, a maid rushed out from the kitchen; it turned out that the esteemed seamstress crafted fine garments not only for the nobility but also for people of humble status—the very work she had been quietly attending to just moments before. The maid tried on her new dress and happily asked me if it looked good.