I Am The Game's Villain

Chapter 867: Just Taking Measures

"Um... Your Majesty, could you please remove your top coat?"

Edward lowered his gaze toward the two female staff members standing beside him.

Both of them had been trying very hard to remain professional since he entered the fitting room. But the moment their eyes met his eyes, their composure weakened. Their cheeks flushed, and they quickly looked away as though they had been caught staring.

Edward grumbled internally.

Without much choice, he removed the black hoodie coat and tossed it onto a nearby chair.

Beneath it, he wore a dark shirt with long sleeves, fitted enough to reveal the shape of his shoulders and chest without being overly tight.

The two women froze for a second.

Without the very hiding black coat, he was much more visible to their eyes.

His silver hair fell freely ard his pale face. His eyes had an unusual cold brilliance to them, sharp and clear enough to make people hesitate when they looked directly at him. Even the shape of his jaw, the smoothness of his pale skin, and the calm and hard lines of his features seemed almost unnaturally perfect.

Up close, Edward hardly looked human.

He looked like something carefully made to resemble one.

The staff members had served nobles, royals, famous artists, and wealthy figures from all over Edenis Raphiel. They were used to beauty, confidence, and people who carried themselves with the arrogance of power.

But Edward was different.

There was something almost eerie about his apperance.

"Hurry up," Edward said, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Y-Yes!"

The two women snapped back to attention.

They quickly took out their measuring tapes and began their work.

For a tailored suit, every measurement had to be exact. The width of the shoulders, the length of the arms, the chest, waist, back, neck, and legs, every detail mattered. A difference of even a small fraction could affect the final fit.

And Crown and Silk did not allow mistakes.

It was one of the greatest fashion houses in Edenis Raphiel. Their reputation rested on producing clothes that fit perfectly, especially when the client was someone as important as the Utopian King himself.

The pressure made the staff members even more nervous.

Edward’s presence alone was intimidating enough.

One woman stood in front of him, carefully measuring the length of his torso and waist. Her hands trembled faintly as she adjusted the tape over his shirt.

The other moved behind him to measure the width of his chest and shoulders.

"C-Could you raise your arms slightly, Your Majesty?" The woman in front asked.

Edward did as she asked.

As soon as his arms were raised, the woman behind him stepped closer to stretch the tape around his upper body. She stood so near that she was pressing actually her chest against his back.

Whether that level of closeness was truly necessary for the measurement was another question.

Perhaps she had simply been affected by Edward’s natural scent.

It wasn’t like he wore any kind of strong perfume.

The scent that clung to him was his own, faint but strangely captivating. It resembled Cleenah’s divine scent in a a perhaps more dangerous way. Yet on Edward, it carried a deeper and more masculine presence.

It was fitting, perhaps.

Cleenah was the Goddess of Beauty.

And whatever Edward had inherited from her was enough to make the woman behind him momentarily forget her work.

She inhaled softly, her eyes widening as though she had caught the scent of some divine perfume.

The woman standing in front of Edward was no better. She tried to take the measurement around his waist, but her hands shook as she fumbled with the fabric of his shirt.

Edward’s patience began to wear thin.

"Do you want me to remove my shirt?" He asked.

He remembered a previous time when Layla had brought him shopping. One of the staff members had requested that he remove his shirt in order to take more accurate measurements.

His current shirt was thicker than usual, and the sleeves were long. Perhaps it was making the work more difficult.

"Y-Yes, that would be helpful," the woman behind him replied far too quickly.

Edward reached for the buttons of his shirt.

He had only undone a few when Layla stepped out from a cabin.

"Honey, what are you doing?"

Her tone was sweet.

Too sweet.

Edward looked toward her.

Layla stood a short distance away, wearing a smile that did not reach her dark-pink eyes.

"Taking measurements," Edward replied.

"And why would you need to take off your shirt for that?" She asked, tilting her head.

"To give them the proper measurements," Edward said. "Is that not why we came here?"

"You do not need to get naked for that, Honey," Layla replied dryly.

"I am not getting naked," Edward said with a grimace. "I have a slim top underneath—"

"No."

Layla cut him off immediately.

Edward stared at her.

"The last time—"

"The last time," Layla interrupted, "that woman only wished to touch your body."

Her smile remained in place.

It was still not a warm smile.

"But because you are too naive, Honey, you allowed her to do it. Even though only I should be touching you like that."

Edward frowned.

"Regardless, if I need to try on clothes, I will have to remove it eventually."

The fitting room was already warm despite the air conditioning. And if he was going to try formal suits composed of several layers, a shirt, vest, blazer, coat, and decorative mantle, he would look ridiculous wearing them over his current shirt.

"Yes, afterward," Layla replied. "But not for measurements. They do not need to touch your skin to do their jobs properly."

Then Layla turned toward the two staff members.

Her eyes were still smiling.

"Right?"

The two women stiffened.

"Y-Yes!"

"My apologies, my Lady!"

Any trace of distraction vanished from them immediately.

Under Layla’s quiet but terrifying stare, the women became entirely professional. They stepped back, adjusted their measuring tapes, and took the remaining measurements with careful precision while keeping a respectful distance from Edward.

Edward watched them and did not argue further.

Once the measurements were finally complete, the staff members stepped away and bowed.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Your Majesty," the lead staff member said. "We have prepared several possible designs based on the information Lady Belle provided. Please allow us to present them."

A wide display was brought into the room.

Several sets of clothing appeared across the screen, each one different in color, cut, and style. There were traditional royal coats in deep blue and gold, elegant black formalwear with silver embroidery, white ceremonial uniforms inspired by Utopia, and modern suits that combined Edenis Raphiel fashion with the refined style of Celesta.

Some designs were simple and sharp.

Others were far more elaborate.

Once Edward and Layla had selected the styles they liked, the staff would begin preparing the final tailored versions. But before that, Edward would have to try on each sample set and determine what actually suited him.

This was the moment he had feared.

The moment that was going to take forever.

"Let us start with you, Honey," Layla said.

She approached him with a pleased smile, her dark-pink eyes glittering with excitement.

[Master, if you require assistance—]

’Shut up.’

(Master, I can put on some music—)

’Shut the fuck up.’

Edward cut off both systems mentally before they could say anything else.

Then he took a slow breath and prepared himself.

Layla had already grabbed his right arm, holding it with clear excitement. With her free hand, she pointed toward the different outfits on the display, speaking eagerly with the staff members about colors, fabrics, embroidery, and designs.

Her cheeks were faintly flushed.

Her smile was genuine.

Edward watched her for a moment.

The irritation in his expression softened considerably.

He still hated this.

He hated shopping, trying on clothes, standing still while others judged every detail of his appearance, and wasting hours on formal outfits he would likely never wear again.

But Layla was happy.

That expression on her face, that excitement in her eyes, was the only reason Edward was willing to endure the hell that was about to begin.

***

While Edward and Layla remained upstairs, facing the exhausting process of measurements, formalwear, and endless outfit selections, Samara led the others down to the women’s section of Crown and Silk.

The lower floors were far more open than the private salon above.

Large spaces extended in every direction, divided into elegant sections based on style, season, and occasion. One area displayed formal gowns in glass cases, their fabrics shimmering beneath warm lights. Another offered modern dresses, skirts, jackets, and accessories. Mannequins stood at every corner, dressed in carefully designed outfits that looked more like art than ordinary clothing.

There were many customers inside.

Still, it was not overwhelmingly crowded.

Crown and Silk was one of the most prestigious brands in Edenis Raphiel, but that also meant its prices were far beyond what most people could casually afford. Plenty of visitors came only to look around, admire the designs, or compare the store’s products to other luxury brands across Lioren.

The people who actually purchased clothes here were wealthy nobles, royals, celebrities, influential merchants, and families with more money than they knew what to do with.

For Samara and the others, however, money was not truly a concern.

Belle had already offered to pay for Edward and Layla’s clothing, as she had planned the visit in the first place. Layla was also more than willing to cover the expenses of the others, and Edward himself could easily pay for anything they chose.

If he wished, he could simply send the bill to Freya.

She would likely be upset to receive an unexpected invoice from Crown and Silk, especially if Edward had spent an absurd amount of money without warning her or maybe treating like some bank. But he could also pay it himself.

Edward possessed an almost unimaginable fortune in Xenithia, wealth he barely touched. He had never cared much about spending money on himself, but when it came to his family, he would not hesitate.

In truth, Tihana and Orlin were already used to being spoiled.

Belle had always taken good care of them in Celesta, buying them whatever they needed and often more than they asked for. Still, Crown and Silk was on a completely different level. Even by the standards of a royal household, the prices displayed here were difficult to ignore.

"It is even more expensive than I thought," Orlin said.

He stood before a display of formal dresses, staring at a pale-blue gown decorated with tiny gemstones and delicate silver embroidery.

The price beneath it made him pause.

For the cost of that one dress, he could probably buy an entire mansion somewhere in Celesta.

Or at least a very nice house.

"Belle said not to worry about money," Tihana said, giggling as she held up her phone. "She told us to pick whatever we want."

She showed him a message Belle had sent earlier.

Orlin had received nearly the same message.

Still, he could not completely get rid of the uncomfortable feeling in his chest.

"It is still Belle’s money," he said.

"Do you know how rich Belle is?" Tihana asked. "Besides, Layla said she will pay for us too."

Orlin looked at her.

"You are acting very spoiled."

Tihana puffed out her cheeks.

"We have a wonderful family. We should take advantage of it, stupid Orlin."

Then she pointed at the rows of clothes around them.

"Now pick something."

"Pick something..." Orlin repeated.

His gaze drifted toward the section in front of them.

It was full of skirts, dresses, and fitted blouses.

He stared at it for a moment.

Then he looked back at Tihana.

"Yeah, I think I will go downstairs to the men’s section."

"You cannot go alone," Samara said immediately.

Orlin turned toward her.

"I will be fine, Samara. Do not worry."

"No."

Samara clearly intended to accompany him herself.

But then she glanced at Tihana, who was already growing excited as she looked through dresses. Her eyes then shifted toward Lunishia, who had somehow found three different hats and was trying each one on in front of a mirror.

Finally, Samara looked at Tessara.

Tessara stood quietly beside the others, but Samara’s expression made it clear that she did not want to leave her unsupervised either.

"I will go with him."

Olga’s voice came unexpectedly.

Everyone looked at her.

"No," Orlin said. "Do you not want to choose some dresses too?"

"I can choose later," Olga replied.

She glanced toward Tihana and Lunishia.

"I am sure you will be faster than them."

Tihana and Lunishia were already moving from one display to another with the same excited energy. Whenever those two were together, they behaved more like sisters than anything else.

Lunishia would point out a dress she found pretty, and Tihana would immediately insist on seeing it. Tihana would find a bright accessory, and Lunishia would begin imagining how it would look with a completely different outfit.

Their shopping was unlikely to end quickly.

"We will only be downstairs," Olga said to Samara. "We will not go far."

Samara looked at her.

Then she nodded.

Olga might have been young, but she was level-headed.

It was not that Lunishia or Tessara lacked maturity. But if trouble appeared, both of them were more likely to react in dangerous ways.

Olga was different.

She remained calm.

And with Orlin beside her, who was equally quiet and mature, there was little reason to worry.

"Alright," Samara said. "Do not wander too far."

"We will not," Olga replied.

Orlin gave Samara an apologetic smile.

"Sorry about this."

"Do not apologize," Olga said as she stepped beside him.

Together, they walked toward the elevator.

Orlin pressed the button for the men’s section, and the doors soon opened before them. The two stepped inside, leaving the women’s floor behind as the elevator began moving downward.

Crown and Silk had several floors dedicated to different styles of clothing.

There were sections for ceremonial attire, formalwear, seasonal collections, accessories, children’s clothing, and more casual styles. Orlin selected the floor labeled Casual Collection, though even the word casual meant something entirely different in a store like Crown and Silk.

When the elevator doors opened, they found themselves in another vast space filled with high-end jackets, shirts, trousers, sweaters, and shoes.

Everything still looked expensive.

The casual clothes were simply less decorated.

"Well," Orlin said as he stepped out, glancing toward Olga with a small smile, "maybe you will find something to your taste here too."

"I know you do not like overly girlish dresses."

"Yes," Olga replied quietly. "Maybe."

She looked down at the outfit she was currently wearing.

Her skirt ended around her knees, exposing more of her legs than she liked. Her shoulders were visible as well, and the entire outfit made her feel too exposed. She preferred trousers, practical clothes, and outfits she could move in easily.

If she wore a skirt, she usually preferred having shorts beneath it.

Not only for comfort, but to avoid the unpleasant attention of men who stared too long.

But she had not worn shorts that day.

And the reason was simple.

"Lunishia told me that I would have a better chance of finding cute girls if I looked cute too," Olga said.

Orlin grimaced slightly.

That sounded exactly like something Lunishia would say.

He could almost picture the scene: Lunishia speaking with complete confidence, giving Olga ridiculous romantic advice as though she were an expert, while Olga listened to every word with serious attention.

"You know Lunishia wears those flashy clothes to get my Dad’s attention, right?" Orlin said. "Her advice might not be the best for you."

He did not know much about romance himself.

He loved Belle as a mother. He loved Tihana as his sister. He cared for Layla too, in the way someone might care for a cool, funny aunt, though he would never dare call her that to her face.

As for Samara, Lunishia, Olga, and Tessara, Orlin liked all of them. They were kind to him, and each of them had become part of his family in their own way.

But Olga was the one he felt most comfortable around.

They were close in age, quieter than the others, and often seemed to understand one another without needing to say much. The fact that Olga liked girls also made things easier between them. There was no awkwardness, no misunderstanding, and no reason for either of them to worry about what the other expected.

Olga cared for Edward much like Orlin did.

She saw him as a dependable older brother, someone strong enough to protect her and kind enough to make her feel safe.

Orlin saw Edward as his father.

In the end, their feelings toward him were not so different.

"You think so?" Olga asked.

She looked down at her clothes again.

"Lunishia said I should show more of my feminine attributes if I want attention."

"Well," Orlin said carefully, "I think you would get more attention from men than women."

Olga’s face twisted faintly.

"Hm..."

"I do not want that," she said. "Most men are strange."

Then she added, after a brief pause:

"Except Dad and you."

Orlin laughed.

"I am happy to receive the same treatment as Dad."

Olga shook her head.

"If I did not like women, I think I would want to be with someone like Dad. Or someone like you."

Orlin’s face immediately turned red.

"Do not say strange things like that," he muttered, scratching his cheek.

Olga smiled softly.

"You are like Edward."

"Not really," Orlin said. "Dad is much more amazing."

"In your heart," Olga replied.

Orlin looked at her.

Olga’s dark amber eyes remained calm.

She could see Belle’s influence clearly in Orlin. He had been raised with care, discipline, and warmth. But there was also something in him that reminded her of Edward.

It was not exactly the same.

Edward observed people a lot. He noticed small details that others ignored, especially when it concerned the women and family members he cared about. He was always thinking, always watching, always prepared to act if someone crossed a line.

Orlin had a similar instinct.

He was attentive. He thought carefully before speaking. He worried about those close to him, and he had an almost unconscious desire to make sure they were safe and treated properly.

It was as if both Edward and Orlin had been raised by the same strict, protective mother who had taught them that the women in their family should always be respected and watched over.

It was strange, considering Edward had not been raised by Belle.

Yet Olga could not ignore the resemblance.

That was part of the reason she felt comfortable around both of them.

Of course, Edward and Orlin were very different when it came to strangers.

Orlin was kind and attentioned to nearly everyone.

Edward was not.

Olga had seen enough to understand that Edward could be ruthlessly selective. He could show overwhelming patience, care, and gentleness toward the people he considered his own, then become completely indifferent, or frighteningly cold toward people outside that circle.

"You really love my Dad, do you not?" Orlin asked.

Olga nodded.

Her dark amber eyes lowered slightly.

"I would do anything for him," she said quietly.

There was no exaggeration in her voice.

No embarrassment.

Only sincerity.

Orlin was caught off guard by the vulnerable honesty in her expression.

Then his face softened too.

He looked ahead as they continued walking between the displays of coats and jackets.

’As expected, you are amazing, Dad. I hope I can become like you someday.’

"Oh, excuse me!"

A voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts.

Someone bumped lightly into Orlin’s shoulder while moving past him.

"It is fine," Orlin replied.

He looked toward the person who had bumped into him.

It was a young man with red hair, dressed in clothes that were decent but noticeably less flashy than the outfits displayed around them. He offered Orlin an apologetic smile before turning his attention toward a beautiful girl walking ahead of him.

She had similar curly scarlet-red hair that fell around her shoulders, and her expression was visibly annoyed.

"Wait for me, Ruby!" The red-haired man called after her.

"Why should I wait for you, Brother?" Rubina replied without stopping.

She turned her head slightly, giving him a sharp look.

"And I told you not to come with me until you bought a proper outfit for the ceremony. If you wear those unsightly clothes again, do not even think of approaching me that day."

Then she continued walking away.

The young man stopped in the middle of the aisle and groaned.

"Gods, tell me what sins I committed to deserve such a little sister."

Jeanne stepped beside him, smiling.

"Maybe she is right," she said. "How about I help you find proper clothes? I think your fashion sense may actually be terrible."

The red-haired man’s eyes widened.

"Really? Please help me, Sis!"

He sounded so relieved that Jeanne blinked.

"A--Alright," she said, raising one hand. "Calm down."

Then Jeanne looked toward a pair of royal sisters standing nearby.

"Aura, I will join you later," she called.

Aurora glanced toward Jeanne, then toward the red-haired young man beside her.

Understanding appeared in her eyes.

She nodded with a smile.

Orlin stood quietly in the distance, watching them.

He recognized some of the faces.

It was difficult not to.

He had seen them at royal events before, even if he had been much smaller at the time. He remembered Aurora especially well. She had been the center of attention during one of the royal celebrations he attended, her birthday, if he remembered correctly.

For a moment, Orlin considered taking out his phone.

’Should I tell Dad?’ He wondered.

She was literally the Princess of Celesta after all.

He reached for his phone.

Then he stopped.

There was no real reason to interrupt Edward’s day over something so small. They were simply shopping like everyone else.

"You coming?" Olga called.

Orlin looked toward her.

"Yeah," he replied.

He put his phone away and followed her.

He briefly wondered whether Olga had recognized Aurora and the others as well.

But if she had, she did not seem to care.