They lined the palace walls with the usual finery but were even more lavish than usual. Shafir looked down at the invitation in his hands as he walked about. Although the coronation was hours away, the Princess, who was soon to be Empress, had invited Shafir earlier. To something she called a dressing party. What that entailed, he didn’t know.
“Shafir!!!!” A voice yelled and before he could turn around to address the voice, arms wrapped around him from behind. When he turned his head, there was the high elf with her bright smile. He knew she was more than happy for her coronation, but to see her excitement was different.
“Hello your highness,” Shafir said. He had to steady himself as she jostled him around with a squeal of glee. This was a formal party, the kind that Shafir disliked. The Empire would soon crown Princess Aila the Empress and her mother would take up being her advisor for the time being. So this was a monumental occasion for the princess. Shafir had no choice but to attend, as Aila and her mother asked of him it.
“What in the Mother’s name are you wearing? I hope you don’t plan on wearing this to the party,” Aila said and waved her gloved hands over Shafir’s clothes. He was wearing his best formal clothes, which were still very informal compared to others. The leather wasn't as refined as what others would wear, even though it was nice enough.
“It’s not that bad,” Shafir said. Aila’s blues raked over him once more before sighing loudly. His best formal clothes were, of course, his usual clothes. He couldn’t pick out formal wear even if you placed it in front of him. Formal clothing had always been hard for Shafir to wear, as it was stifling. The only people he knew who looked comfortable in formal clothing were Aila and Eliqinor. Maybe people with a certain vibe were meant to wear formal clothing. Shafir always thought he looked like a feral rat in formal clothing.
“If I have to look at you dressed like that the whole night… I’d rather not be the Empress at all.” Aila huffed. Her hand cupped her cheek as she contemplated something. Shafir watched her eyes and looked him over. She sized him up and walked a circle around him. Aila poked him here and there before speaking again. “So that’s why I’ll dress you.”
“You’ll what!?” Shafir had little time to protest when Aila clapped her hands. Elves materialized out of nowhere, filling the corridor until it was suffocating. They prodded and pinched at him. They used tape measures and strings to measure his build.
“Now, you either go with this amiable lady to get dressed or we will dress you in the hallway,” Aila said. Her gloved hands clasped together and her often delightful held a hint of sadistic satisfaction in it. She knew Shafir had no choice but to submit, for who was he to deny his future empress?
~o~o~O~o~o~
The room was silent as the servants stared at their handiwork. Shafir wrangled into an attractively dressed elf. They had fought tooth and nail to squeeze him into the complicated clothing but didn’t fight over it. However, Shafir found a few faults in it.
“Don’t you think this is less appropriate than what I was wearing before?” Shafir asked as he stared at himself in the mirror. Not only was it less than appropriate for a coronation, he wouldn’t think it would be appropriate to wear anywhere. It was also freezing. It exposed his chest and back as the blouse covered nothing. Thankfully, the material covered his nipples. Or that could have been a disaster. There was no reason for him to be dressed like this at her majesty’s coronation.
“I think it fits you well,” Aila said. Everyone nodded in agreement. While it fit him in size, the vibe of it didn’t. Shafir couldn’t wrack his brain for why she thought it looked good on him. In the dark elf’s opinion, a suit of armor would be more fitting than whatever this was.
Aila’s outfit was more modest and captivating than his, so he couldn’t understand her reasoning. At least the sleeves of the shirt could hide his wrists easily, so no one would ask about his bandages. One maid questioned him and Shafir avoided the question. After that, they had said nothing more about it. If someone had outed his curse mark before Aila, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.
“What about you? Why are you not wearing something similar?” Shafir questioned. Aila’s eyes looked away, caught in her scheming, before sighing loudly. Shafir knew that sigh. She was going to say something uncouth, and the dark waited for her response.
“One with many suitors waiting for them should dress modestly. While those with none would do well to flaunt their assets,” Aila shrugged at her explanation. Shafir couldn’t tell if her boldness had offended or surprised him. How would she know whether he had suitors? Before being reassigned, he had been working for her for quite some time. Perhaps his relationship status had changed within that time? Well, not that she was wrong, but he couldn’t figure out how she knew.
“What are you imply-”
“I am implying you’re boring. Just for once in your life, I want you to enjoy a party,” Aila said and walked behind Shafir, flicking his ponytail. They adorned it with an elaborate ribbon. He disliked how fancy he looked. Not only that, he didn’t think he looked all that attractive with this much skin on display. He was never the life of the party. He never needed to be. So he couldn’t help but humor her.
“Besides, was there a need for my… To be on display?” Shafir asked and pointed to the crotch of his pants. The colors of black and navy drew too much attention to his body, the seams somehow perfectly hugging his waist and backside. Aila waved off his concern before turning to her servants.
"It looks stunning. I promise you will have suitors lining up by the dozens in this outfit," Aila said. Everyone in attendance nodded in agreement. Shafir hated how he felt about it. The outfit was a bit much, but he didn't want to admit that maybe being looked at with want wasn't all that bad.
"I don't want dozens of suitors," Shafir said stoically, hoping that it would tell Aila that he didn't care. Aila nodded and patted his back, her warm hand landing on bare skin.
"That's alright, one suitor is more than enough for an elf like you."
