The door creaked open and waved feebly.
“I mean it,” Zafir warned the wardrobe, holding up a finger.
“Don’t listen to him,” I told the wardrobe. “I’m the one wearing it; I should get to choose.”
“I know Julian better than you do,” Zafir shot back.
“You can only pick my clothes if I can pick yours for you.”
“Fine.”
I looked at him, startled. I’d expected him to immediately reject the idea. “What?”
“I’ll pick for you, then you pick for me.”
I blinked. “I wasn’t serious.”
“Too bad. You offered, and I accepted. Now, let’s see…” He picked through the clothing. “This one.”
It was a long-sleeved woolen black dress with a collar that would reach my chin and had lumpy skirts that dragged on the ground.
“I’ll be roasted alive in the blistering heat out there,” I protested. “I can’t wear that when you won’t even sleep with a shirt on because you complain it’s too hot.”
Sulkily, Zafir put the ensemble back and withdrew another with a lighter, more flowy fabric but would still cover every inch of skin. “Here.”
“Now it’s my turn to pick for you.” I pushed him away. “Move. I need to focus.” I closed the wardrobe doors and whispered to it. “Give me the most feminine clothing you can manage in his size.”
When I opened the doors again, my eyes watered from the glaringly bright fabrics splashed with embroideredflowers burning my vision. I withdrew a violently pink set of robes. “Ah, perfect. This looks like it’s your color.”
“I would rather die than wear that,” Zafir said. “Absolutely not.”
“Isn’t it so fun to have someone else pick your clothing?” I drawled. “How areyouenjoying it?”
“I let you use one veto. I get one as well, and I won’t wear that.”
“No problem. Try this instead.” I withdrew flamboyantly yellow robes that would put the sun to shame. “I think it will bring out the color of your eyes.” I wiggled the fabric.
Zafir let out a muttered oath under his breath.
“Didn’t catch that, what did you say?” I asked sweetly. “Were you saying how much you adore my taste?” I looped fabric around his shoulders. “Look, you’re so handsome. You should flaunt that instead of hiding behind all your black.”
“I like black.”
“And maybe I liked that red”—I wasn’t sure what to call it—“thing.”
He let out a snort of disgust. “Julian would like ittoomuch.” He walked over to throw the sunshine-yellow robes into the wardrobe and closed the door. “Give her something… reasonable.”
“Somethingalluring,” I corrected him.
The look Zafir gave me could have lit me on fire. “Something reasonable,” he repeated to the wardrobe. “A duchess wouldn’t flaunt herself so carelessly.”
The wardrobe’s doors squeaked slightly as they wavered back and forth, torn between whom to obey.
Zafir noticed its hesitation. “I’ll chop you up if you disobey,” he barked at the wood.
“I’ll polish you if you obey me,” I told it, then shot a raised eyebrow at Zafir. “You can’t bully everyone intoobeying you. I happen to like this wardrobe. It’s very smart.” I ran a hand over the handle. “It knows you won’t chop it up, because then you wouldn’t have anything at all to wear.”
With a snap, the door closed, then burst open a moment later.
