Sephrina glared at her, but her eyes lingered on her father.
Akamir's eyes widened. 'Wait, the wedding!'
He finally got a clue to break this world.
Even Sephrina, though visibly annoyed, gave in with a scowl and stood up, allowing the royal tailor to begin her work.
It was clear that she only agreed because the sword at her father's neck left her no choice.
The tailor, a tall woman with silver-streaked hair tied tightly behind her head, circled Sephrina like a hawk, measuring her arms and waist.
She made notes on a small parchment pad as she worked.
"You're lucky, my lady," she said with a sharp smile, her tone cheerful but rehearsed.
"Not everyone gets the honour of marrying King Lewin. He's truly a great man. So noble and so generous."
Sephrina didn't respond. Her gaze flicked from the tailor to her father, who stood still under guard.
The moment their eyes met, she clenched her fists but remained quiet.
