Emilie of the Royal Heart

Chapter 10: The Tailor's Confession

As it turned out, a member of the Keepers of Tradition was required to accompany the two of them on their tour of southern Fellen. Emilie was not glad to hear this, and she said so on her last meeting with Cedric before she left.

"I met the man briefly after the Prince told me he'd be coming. He's insufferable! Very handsome and nice to everybody else, but he looks at me as though I've eaten his little sister alive before his very eyes," she moped.

Cedric chuckled at her suffering as he sorted through the dresses in her closet and selected one to bring over to the open trunk sitting at the base of her bed.

"Ester will know how to unpack these for you," he told her, laying the dress delicately to rest before heading back to the wardrobe to select another.

"Do you have nothing to say about my new adversary?" Emilie languished, holding her arms in close to her body.

"Are you asking me to speak badly of a palace official?" Cedric jested, packing another dress.

"Well... maybe I am. What would you say if asked you to speak badly of a palace official? Hypothetically, of course."

"Hypothetically, I would say that Sir Tiago Quotias is far too self-important and far too obsessed with archaic law for his own good but that, when he likes somebody, they are treated well, and when he doesn't, they aren't. Oh, and he doesn't know how to wear his tie at all. I mean, at all! The man constantly pulls it off center," he paused to press his hand to his temple and shake his head.

"Hypothetically, he doesn't know how to wear his tie," Emilie reminded with a giggle, "hypothetically, right?"

"Hypothetically," Cedric nodded. He picked up the skirt of the dress he was carrying and brought it to the trunk where he repeated, "hypothetically."

"How do I get in his good graces?"

"Have you forgotten I am a mere tailor and have had no training in this sort of royal etiquette?" his pace slowed as soon as his hands touched her dresses again. His head was turned back to look at her.

"No, but I thought perhaps you might have some tidbits to make sure Sir Tiago doesn't decide to split me and the prince apart!" Emilie defended, waltzing over to the wardrobe where he stood. Oddly enough, her fears aligned and none of what she said needed to be a lie. It would be bad if Tiago split up their engagement.

Cedric gave a bitter laugh and concentrated back on her dresses, musing, "I'm not going to tell you how to save your engagement from Tiago's critical eye."

"Why not! I thought you were my friend, Cedric!" she exclaimed, aghast, "a friend would tell me what he knows about Tiago's ways."

"A friend would, yes."

Emilie's face fell. She didn't even want to think about what that meant. The past two months of their conversations and jokes and considerations over alterations and fittings... he didn't think they were friends? The rug was pulled out from under her once again. It was as though Cedric and her kept drawing close and then he would fall further back than she could reach. She didn't understand it. Not at all.

When he pulled the last dress, Emilie ran up to him and touched his arm, "wait -wait why not the -the blue one? The blue one's lovely. It's my favorite."

Cedric puffed a breath out of his nose and raised an eyebrow at her. He sidled up close to her (closer than she would've let Aurora get) until he could tilt his gaze down at her and make her have to crane her face up to look at him. Then he whispered, "I didn't make that one so you could whisk it away somewhere I couldn't see you wearing it."