“Oh Gods, I never thought I’d actually have to do this.” I complain bitterly, shaking out my heavy ceremonial embroidered skirts for the Coronation.
“What, you couldn’t convince Reggie not to proceed without the pomp and circumstance?” Ward taunts, walking into the room, twisting the cuffs on the equally heavy, red, embroidered robe he wore to settle them correctly over his shirt sleeves.
“You should talk.” I look him over pointedly, examining the stiff white tunic with laces at the chest tucked in at the waist by a thick cloth embroidered belt. Below which he was wearing a pair of fitted knee-length breeches and tall white stockings, which had given me a fit of giggles the first time I’d seen them on him. What could I say? He looked much better just stalking around in his leather
