Even Celio had noticed his bafflement.
"What's the matter, your eminence?" He demanded, stepping forward himself.
Cargan's grip on the paper tightened– the poor thing might rip apart anytime soon.
With gritted teeth, "Fire the royal designer!" He fiercely ordered.
Celio abruptly stopped in his steps, perhaps getting a clearer knowledge of the situation even before being told.
"Will do, your eminence." He nodded, his voice low.
It was wise of him to keep his voice low and compliant. Little things would irk Cargan now.
Not after striking the best poses and keeping his swag on a high range would he be ranked as the third prince of the day.
Not even first.
Not SECOND!
Fuming with burning rage, "Why should Astor be ranked first? He dresses way too extravagantly! He behaves like a child too." Cargan seethed.
Celio was silent. Without a word, he only watched his prince.
Cargan didn't like that.
