Noel stood on the raised platform, arms slightly out to the sides, watching a dozen enchanted threads orbit his body like curious snakes. Each one shimmered faintly, measuring everything from shoulder width to ankle alignment with perfect precision.
Noriel circled him with a sharp eye, scribbling on a floating slate that followed him mid-air.
"Hold still. And don't flex. You'll throw the measurements off," he said flatly.
Noel exhaled. "Wasn't planning to."
One of the threads hovered unusually long near his waist. Too long.
Noel glanced down.
"…You're seriously measuring that too?"
Noriel didn't even blink. "Of course. Cut matters. Balance matters. Presentation definitely matters."
Balthor let out a hearty laugh from his seat nearby. "Now you're starting to understand what a real tailor's like."
Noel groaned under his breath. "You could at least warn a guy."
Noriel raised an eyebrow. "Would that have made it less awkward?"
