The Guardian of The Dragon

Chapter 33

The woman was extremely tense.

Her light garment shifted slightly as she noticed the tape measure in the tailor's hand.

'A tailor'

The tailor was very polite.

She was flabbergasted, as if she were dealing with noble royalty.

As the tailor approached and began measuring her, she panicked.

She had been measured by a tailor not long ago and could immediately tell the difference.

Glancing at the measurements she had noted in her own notebook, she realized the units used by this tailor were much smaller.

From experience, she understood that these precise measurements would result in a well-fitted garment.

Commoners' clothes were made with larger units, allowing for small errors.

Noblemen's clothes, however, were tailored with precision, generally fitting well.

Only a princess's expensive banquet gown would be tailored to fit perfectly.

'What kind of clothes is she going to make...'

Frea had thought lightly when Aran had mentioned calling a tailor.

At least it would be something more form-fitting than the furry garment she wore now.

It was not like she was going anywhere with it, and her time in this world was short.

"Will you stand up, please?"

"Can you put your arms up?"

"Let your hair fall forward for a moment."

Frea moved as the tailor requested.

She turned her head and made eye contact with Aran, who was sitting at the table looking at her.

When she frowned, Aran said.

"What?"

"It's rude to stare at me like that."

"Are you in a bad mood?"

"It's not about my mood. I'm doing something very personal right now. You're not going to watch the process of making clothes and then wearing them, are you?"

"No?"

"Of course not!"

Raising her voice in alarm, Frea managed to control her expression as she glanced around.

"No."

Aran smirked.

"Then you're telling me to stay out?"

"How can a guest tell the landlord to leave? Don't look at me, do something else. Read a book or something."

"Read? If that's what you want."

Aran turned to the chamberlain.

Brenner, who had been caught off guard, met the Emperor's gaze belatedly and was startled.

Fortunately, he knew what he had to do: fetch a book.

But there were no books in the parlor. Even the closest source would take time.

His eyes fell on a leather notebook partially sticking out of the tailor's bag.

Brenner quickly handed it to the Emperor.

Hazel, absorbed in her design book, was taking measurements and envisioning garments, unaware of the Emperor's scrutiny.

"It's done. I apologize for my poor craftsmanship and for not finishing quickly enough."