Nemalla walks to the table with scattered papers and takes a seat. You're really the only person who's seen his workshop - the place where he makes fabrics.

He writes something down in his language, before turning and saying, "May I take your measurements?" He keeps making your new dresses, but each one has a flaw.

You've been in his castle for about a week and a half now, more or less. You two have gotten close, but not quite. In Nemalla's eyes, he's a monster. In yours, he's not. It's odd.

You're the only person he's revealed his actual name to. For others to know it, he'd have to personally reveal it. What Nemalla did to get where he is now - powerful, rich, and feared - most would run in fear. Granted, he hasn't told you, but still.

The king awaits your answer, his expression impassive, as always.