Free Shit Friday.

I'm working on something. It starts off pretty cool.

If Atlas could refrain from fucking everything up for five minutes, I could die happy.

I swear, I haven't known a moment's peace since I was seven years old. And it is one hundred percent his fault. Every time something will finally be looking up, here comes this moron and his proclivity for ruining my life.

Here we were, less than a month from the single most significant event of my existence, and there he was, dropping the ball spectacularly.

"Look, dude, I said I was sorry! Listen! Hey!" If Atlas and his obnoxious accent thought for one second that I was going to stop marching to correct his mistake, he was more stupid than I could fathom.

"You had one job, Atlas. One. One would think that someone incapable of forgetting a goddamn thing wouldn't let this go unchecked, and yet…" I skidded to a stop and spun around, tamping down every instinct to scream.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and pouted like a scolded toddler. "I love you?"

"Well, that's perfect. That will surely fix the issue."

"And I didn't forget, I just… put it off. How was I supposed to know that Mr. Werth was going to have to special order—"

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose as I slapped my other hand onto his shoulder. "No, you wouldn't. This is my penance for entrusting anything of value to you."

He narrowed his eyes and shoved me off of him. "Okay, now that's not fair. You really don't think it'll be ready by July? That's like, what? Three weeks from now?"

"Three and a half, but no, I don't. From the weaver, to the processor, to Michigan, to the tailor, to me? That's four months minimum. Which is why, if you'll recall, I asked you to do this in March."

And February. And January. I'd been pestering my cousin to place the order for this ridiculous costume for over half a year by this point. Truth be told, I should have owned one already. It's not like ascension snuck up on me. I'd known about my father's acceptance to Council since October. It's just like chess; one piece moves, another takes its place. And this little pawn was ready to become a king finally. Of course, one would assume that their bishop wouldn't be so fucking incompetent.

"You know you're allowed to wear your uniform for this, right? Just do that."

I shook my head and resumed my stomping toward my father's office. "Do that? First, that is an insult to the Guard. Second… I haven't worn that thing for probably fifteen years, Ducky. It would be no small miracle if the mice haven't taken up residency in the pockets."

"Mr. Werth can't just dye something else? What the hell even is Standish blue, anyway?"

"Um…" I paused to consider this for a moment and threw my hands up, gesturing toward the dozens of tapestries lining the hall. "Take a look around. It's not like you don't see it every day of your life. I don't know, it's something like cornflower."

"Aww, you learn that one from Amanda?" Atlas asked, holding his hands clasped over his heart and batting his eyelashes.

"Yes. And I'm nowhere near ashamed to admit that. The woman is brilliant."

"At least Candice took care of her side of things. That's a silver lining, right?"

"See, maybe this was my first mistake. Should've asked one of my actual brothers instead of putting my faith in a cousin with two brain cells to rub together."

He scoffed and nudged me with his shoulder. "You couldn't count on Barry or Lorry to tie your shoes if both of your hands were broken, be so serious. Admit it, you'd be lost without me."

As we approached my father's imposing oak doors, I exhaled sharply. "Be that as it may, Ducky—"

"What do you think Uncle Roo is gonna be able to do?"

I hung my head and sighed in defeat. "Ugh. I'll have to… borrow his."

"You do realize he's like, four inches shorter than you, right?"

"I'll wear fun socks."

"And has broader shoulders."

"Oh my God, it's almost like tailoring exists."

"And—"

"Atlas!"

He raised his hands in surrender and stood back. "No, you're right. Desperate times."

I knocked three times and rocked on my feet until my father's muffled, "You may enter," sounded.

He looked from Atlas to me and frowned. "What'd you two do this time?"

I poked Atlas in the ribs and jerked my head in the king's direction. "Well, Uncle Roo, you see, um—"

"Ducky forgot to order my suit," I cut in, interrupting his hopeless stalling.

My father rubbed his chin and tilted his head. "Ducky and forgot don't belong in the same sentence."

"I didn't forget," he began to argue.

"No, he didn't forget. Hell is still hot. He pushed it until beyond the last possible minute and now… well, you know. It's not feasible." I sucked in a quick breath and rushed through saying, "Do you suppose yours is still in the vault?"

"Mine?"

"Uhh, yes? You know, the only other person in this room who has had to ascend to king?"

Good ol' King Runi nearly fell out of his chair laughing. "Royce, I basically wore my pajamas. My parents took me and Prue to Council to get it over with. I didn't do a formal ceremony."

"But, but, but — no, I've seen the portraiture, it exists!" I stammered, feeling very much like all the air had been sucked out of me.

"Artistic license."

"Goddamnit."