The cape absolut 

It begins the moment she places it over her shoulders.

There’s no fastening yet. No mirror. Only weight — not heavy, but present. The wool responds with quiet structure. It adjusts without noise. It holds.

She moves — one arm, then the other — and the cape follows. Not clinging. Not swaying. But composing. A silhouette reclaims its form. And somehow, she stands straighter.

One refined, hand-embroidered button.
Just precise enough to be remembered.
Soft enough to be worn again — and again.

That is where the story begins.