"Now that I'm done measuring you," Drizelous said with a wide, almost mischievous grin. "It's time for a little interview."
Florian narrowed his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching in annoyance. "You did more than just measuring. What in the world was that?"
He had been measured before. Tailors typically wrapped a measuring tape around his neck, arms, chest, and called it a day. Quick. Efficient.
But this?
Drizelous had spent the last forty minutes poking, prodding, adjusting his posture, scribbling things down in a tiny notebook, and using a range of odd instruments Florian was almost certain were never meant to be used for tailoring.
There had been a ruler shaped like a crescent moon. Something that buzzed. Something that clicked.
At one point, Florian was fairly certain Drizelous had whispered to the fabric of his tunic.
