Page 95 of Fit for a King

I blinked and looked at the tailor. “Yes?”

“Does the collar feel restrictive?”

“Yes,” I said, even though I probably should’ve kept that to myself, because a flicker of alarm crossed his eyes and he began to mess with the collar.

“We can loosen it—” he started, but I waved him off.

“No. It’s fine.”

The collar wasn’t why I felt like I was choking. No amount of loosening the material would fix that.

The door opened behind me, and I didn’t have to look to know who it was. Only one person in the palace burst through doors unannounced, without waiting for an invitation.

Gabriel strolled inside and let out a low whistle. “Looking very distinguished, Your Majesty.”

My eyes trailed down over him in the mirror. He wasn’t wearing a tie or a jacket, looking far too informal for the busy day ahead when he’d need to look the part of a prince. “I wish I could say the same for you. What made you forget to finish dressing this morning?”

“Not all of us have to look so regal.” He stopped beside Gilbert and glanced at the tablet in the man’s hands, then up to me. “Everyone out.”

Gilbert blinked. “Sir?”

“I said, everyone out.”

“But…this is the king’s fitting,” he sputtered.

“Yes, thank you, Gilbert. I guessed that from the miserable expression and the hundred pounds of velvet he’s wearing. Out.”

Everyone in the room looked at me for confirmation, and when I didn’t say a word, that was enough. They all left, one by one, the tailors gathering up their pins and measuring tape.

Only Gilbert lingered in the doorway, his eyes going back to his tablet. “Your Majesty, don’t forget you have a meeting at⁠—”

“Yes, yes, he knows,” Gabriel said, and shut the door in his face.

Then we were alone, just my brother and me. He crossed his arms and walked to where I stood on the platform. He circled me, looking me over slowly.

“Very royal. Very…blue.”

He’d get to the point eventually.

“Very dead inside.”

My eyes flicked to his in the mirror, and he stopped beside me and nodded.

“There he is.”

Irritation surged through me, and I turned away from my reflection. “If you came to insult the coronation attire, you could’ve done that with an audience.”

“I came because Baxter told me you haven’t been sleeping.”

“Baxter should learn to mind his own household.”

“He is. Unfortunately, you’re in it.”

I narrowed my eyes and stepped down from the platform to brush by him. “If that’s all, I’m busy.”

“Oh, please. You’re standing like a mannequin while a bunch of people stab you with pins. That’s the opposite of busy. I bet not one of them has told you you’re wasting away.”

“I’m not wasting away.”