Eggsy Suit Kingsman Novels & Stories

In a few minutes, I would stand before the entire Lycan court and bind myself to the King who despised me. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. But instead, I stood there like a doll being prepared for display, my fingers trembling as they clasped the silver necklace at my throat. My suit was beautiful in a haunting way, the beautifully decorated sleeves fitted perfect around my wrist, the collar of my shirt felt like it was slowly choking me. Then a royal cape, blue and beautiful, was placed over my attire, the servants fastened the collar around my neck, arrange the ruffles and letting it flow to the floor behind me.

I wasn't sure of the vampire king's current mood. Has what I asked pissed him off? He turned slowly on the donkey chair, sitting so he could face me, finally giving me an audience. This was someone I read about in books; he was a mystery to me, having to know him all the years of my existence. He swept a loose strand of his wavy white hair to the back of his ear. I forced myself to look into his challenging eyes. I doubt if I've ever felt this captivated by manliness in my life, not even the first time I saw Eamonn. This vampire king was more than what the books described him as. Books gave a poor description of his face and body; his eyes were the lightest gray, matching perfectly with his

I was genuinely excited about the prospect of showing Alexander even a small token of gratitude for everything he’d done for me. The arrangement between us was supposed to be equal, yet it felt like he was always coming to my rescue. This was my chance to start evening the scales. “Well, with that settled, may I ask you something?” Mr. Kingsman’s expression shifted slightly, a hint of concern appearing. “Of course,” I replied. “Do you know if Alexander is getting his wedding suit made elsewhere?” he asked, his brows knitting together. “Your wedding isn’t far off—at least, according to the news—and he hasn’t come in to speak with me about his suit.”

Cara’s POV Eamon had such kind words for me and my dress, but he himself is also stunning in his white fitted suit with golden trim along the collar and cuffs. He wore a red vest under his white jacket, with a golden crest of the BloodyMoon pack emblazoned upon it. The gold in the white gives him a sort of regal air. He looks every bit the king that he is. “...That’s a handsome suit,” I tell him during our walk to the ballroom. “A suit fit for a king. And you're the best king, my brother.”

He emerged two minutes later and had already changed into a black dark pattern suit, accompanied by a white shirt. He had a pair of long legs and a perfect waistline. The suit fit him as if it were made to grace his frame. The shirt accented his sturdy chest that every contour of it fit him snugly; the suit trousers fit his long legs with no trace of a sag or wrinkle. Kingsley was sitting on the couch opposite Sherman with his legs crossed, exuding elegance. His throat felt raspy, his Adam's apple bobbing from time to time, and he often coughed lightly, as if something was stuck in his throat.

Once all the kids had been collected, Eoin sighed as he approached me. "It seems we have all been summoned." he groaned. "Guess you're definitely one of us now, Ben. The royal tailors are waiting to fit us for our suits for the ball." "I have a suit." I responded. "So do we, but the Queen wants us in the right kind of suits." James laughed. "Whats the right kind of suit?" I asked. "Whatever our mother's pick out for us." Eoin grumbled. "Ah dude, I dress myself." I said firmly.

the king turns to me, wait that means I have to leave, but I don't wanna leave Kyle or Grace and well, Emma I guess. "Okay your majesty" I say, my eyes just on the ground to maybe show him respect, my nerves were just everywhere at the minute. "My love, you're the one person who doesn't have to address me by that, it's Grayson to you" he smiles, I just nod still looking at the ground. "Sorry your maj- I mean Grayson" I smile, he puts his hand under my chin lifting my head to look in his eyes again. Four mean looking men with swords walk over, they bow their heads towards Grayson than at me, why are they bowing towards me?

This would throw me ten steps back, after I've made such good progress this week, with my purposeful touches of him in innocent moments, to the lingering stares. "Oh...No, I've been told I look like her, but no, I'm not her," I scramble. I hope it's enough for her to brush off. Usually I'm seen by the public wearing royal garments, and now, my hair is pulled back and I'm wearing gear Marek provided. "Right, sorry." The girl shakes her head, flushing with embarrassment. "I'm so jealous of her, aren't you?" I flinch. "Jealous?" She leans forward over the counter, grinning. "Married to a King. And so the hottest King in all the land, aside from Tyrien, obviously."

He wiped a speck of dust from his lapel. "Cover your eyes, Elara," he commanded. "Why?" I choked out. "Because I am about to ruin this suit." Three more rogues landed on the balcony. They circled us. They were huge. Foaming at the mouth. Their eyes were crazed. They held jagged knives that dripped with something green. Poison. "Kill the King!" one screamed. "The New Order rises!" Damon laughed. It was a cold, dry sound. "New Order? You are just meat."

He could not, and would not, leave a single flank exposed. Because right now, the King was bleeding. His navy suit was gone, replaced by a dark tactical shirt. His steel-blue eyes were dead, devoid of any humanity, staring at the phone in his hand like a man waiting for his own execution. He was ready to burn the entire city to the ground, to wage a war that would drag every syndicate into the abyss, just to find the woman who had stolen his cold, ruthless heart. Suddenly, the encrypted military tablet held by Cain in the front seat let out a violent, high-pitched ping.