Eggsy Kingsman Suit Novels & Stories

Inside the Kings' residence, calm was a carefully engineered illusion. Rowan stood near the balcony doors adjusting his cufflinks, his expression carved from cold discipline. He wore black tonight, not formal tuxedo black, but the quiet black of power. Tailored, precise, the kind of suit that looked understated until someone with money noticed the stitching was done by hand in Milan, that the fabric had a weight and texture you couldn't get off a rack anywhere. Across the room I finished fastening the clasp on a silver bracelet, the small mechanical click sounding louder than it should in the quiet.

“The kings will be pleased with how well you clean up. Do not be embarrassed. This is our job and we see everything every day.” After they finished scrubbing me thoroughly they helped me out of the tub wrapped me in a thick warm robe and sat me down in front of the large vanity mirror. The lead woman clapped her hands again. “Now for styling. Where are the clothes the kings ordered for him? We need to see them to coordinate the makeup and hair.” I pointed toward the closet still feeling a little dazed from the whole experience. “They are hanging in there. Three suits. The blue one is the one I think I am supposed to wear tonight.”

Authors pov Eira looked at the three handsome giant men walking through the entrance, the aura was enough to tell that they are kings. Their charcoal black suits were screaming royalty, Arrogant faces were enough to tell her that they are no good news. Their attitudes were screaming danger and they were making no efforts to hide it. She tried to spot the queen about whom she has heard many interesting things.

It’s light and natural and just enhances her true and natural beauty. She kisses my jaw as she moves back in the bedroom. “Kingston where is your suit?” “It should be there hanging up.” “It’s not.” “What do you mean it’s not?” “It’s not.” I finish up and turn the electric razor off and put it back on charge. The white fluffy towel still wrapped around my waist. I come out and she Em’s panicked expression. “Em everything will be fine, I’m sure it’s here.” “How could it just go missing, we picked up this morning.” From the dry cleaners we did. It’s not the suit for the wedding. Just for tonight. So it’s not a three piece but a simple black suit, white button down.

he would not be kind and gentle as it should be. I stopped at his knees and he took a deep breath. I wasn’t wearing much, the slave collar, and a white, silk, spaghetti strap gown that was practically see-through. I was told as the king's slave that undergarments weren’t allowed.. so obviously I don’t have those either. I was surprised when the maids handed me this..I’m a slave and it’s not proper slave attire, but apparently, the King requested it.

His long dirty blonde hair was held back by a velvet band and he had a mischievous smile on his face. When he caught Alyn staring, he sent her a wink and she turned bright red. Prince Khalid was the last to take his seat and he had worn a gold shirt decorated with gold beads and golden pants. His black hair was tucked into a gold cloth wrapped around his head. He gave a small smile to her before seating beside his sister who was also decked from head to toe in gold. The King signalled for breakfast to begin after the resident priest had blessed the food and all the noise began again.

Sink or swim, little bird. The doors swung open, and four men in sharp, European-cut suits entered, the Kingsman representatives. They were seasoned, weary, and clearly unimpressed by the presence of a new assistant and a boyfriend who seemed more interested in his reflection in the window than the balance sheets. “Let’s begin,” Killian rumbled.

Two hours later, after a leisurely breakfast that involved far too many pancakes for Lucian and a disturbing amount of raw, rare steak for Killian, we finally descended to the 50th-floor corporate boardroom. Killian had changed into a fresh, charcoal-grey bespoke suit. The tailoring was flawless, doing nothing to hide the dangerous, heavily muscled physique of the Alpha King underneath. I wore a sleek, tailored ivory blazer and a matching skirt that screamed corporate royalty, with the invisible, cosmic weight of the First Crown resting effortlessly upon my soul.

Ariane - And I will contact decorators to set everything up. Today is my engagement ceremony, everything is ready. I look at myself one last time before turning to my king, who is looking at himself in the other mirror. He is wearing a three-piece suit from Edouardo Secchi, an Italian renowned for dressing only heads of state and aristocrats. It is a black suit made from high-quality materials, featuring beautiful velvet details above the pockets and a strikingly remarkable inner lining.

All guests went silent as a butler loudly proclaimed, “Announcing… The Lycan King himself!” Almost as if a gunshot had gone off, everyone suddenly dropped to one knee. Even Isaac, which surprised me considering his usual arrogance. I knelt beside him, bowing my head as the King swept into the room. At that exact moment, a sharp pang lanced through my low belly, making me almost gasp out loud. I pressed my hand over my stomach, gritting my teeth. Not now. Now is not the time! When I looked up, the King had entered and gestured for everyone to rise. He was wearing a smart suit and a ceremonial crown, which he hadn’t been wearing the last time I saw him. He must only save it for special occasio