Rex blinked. "So I'm basically wearing endangered material?"
She ignored the joke.
"The lining is moiré satin—subtle water-pattern texture, breathable, and cool under pressure. The kind of thing a man can wear in summer and still look like he's untouchable. All the embroidery," she pointed to the faint glimmer tracing the lapel and cuffs, "was done by hand. No machine in the world could match the detailing. Took two artisans and thirty-two hours."
She circled the suit, checking one of the seams like it was a breathing patient. "We reinforced the shoulder structure this morning—needed a cleaner line to match your frame. Your left sleeve was also ever so slightly too long by three millimeters. Fixed."
Rex raised an eyebrow. "You measured my arms down to millimeters?"
