Sehun had been predictably horrified when he’d seen Yeonhee’s revision timetable on Wednesday, but he hadn’t altered it as much as Yeonhee had thought he would.  Beyond shaving off any revising she’d been planning to do after six in the evening every day, the only major change he made was to the weekend, when he insisted that she ought to have at least a day’s break once a week, which he placed on Saturday when she complained about her Monday morning exam.

“Kyungsoo can tell you all about the psychology of this, but you need a break every so often for your brain to function properly,” he’d said sternly as he handed her a neatly printed off revised version on the Wednesday afternoon.  “And if you don’t have a complete break once in a while, you get mentally exhausted and you burn out.”

He somehow still seemed to be juggling governmental work with his own revision (Yeonhee suspected he wasn’t really doing any, but it wasn’t like he needed to), and on Saturday morning he announced that he was accompanying Chenle to meet the donor and see if the man had any interest in running for office – assuming, of course, that Chenle was right that he seemed suitable.  Yeonhee spent the morning in bed reading, only reluctantly extricating herself from her duvet at noon to tidy herself up before the palace chauffeur arrived to take her to the hospital.  (She’d tried to talk Yixing out of it, but it turned out that the queen was in the general vicinity of the university anyway and didn’t see any reason not to pick Yeonhee up on her way over to the hospital.)

Since she was going to be with the royal family and their shift was only during the week anyway, the bodyguards had clocked off and Jongdae had left early in the morning.  It felt a bit odd not to have him strolling beside her, and Yeonhee dithered initially when she stepped out in front of the building three minutes early, waiting to be picked up.

She was accosted seconds later by a smartly dressed woman in a suit.

“Miss Im?”

Yeonhee made the mistake of turning at the sound of her name.  The moment the woman introduced herself as the fashion director of a world-famous apparel brand, Yeonhee knew what was coming, and she cursed herself for being so stupid.

“I’m terribly sorry,” she said as politely as she could, “but I’m not interested.  I’m a private citizen and I have exams in a couple of weeks and I don’t want my connection to the prince being exploited.”

“But you need to look the part,” the woman said quickly.  “It’s very hard to break into the circles of the rich and famous without the right brands and clothing and we’re offering to dress you for free—”

Yeonhee wondered if she was allowed to say that the queen was a closet fashion designer.

“The palace would tell me if they thought I needed to change,” she said, looking anxiously in the direction of a black Mercedes that was approaching.  “I’m really sorry, but I’m just not interested, and it’s aggravating to get so many of you asking me.”

“We don’t get the chance to,” the woman said wryly.  “Your bodyguards always turn us away before we can.”

The car pulled to a halt in front of them.  Yeonhee could just see a figure through the tinted window in the back seat who was probably the queen, and she reached for the door before the chauffeur could step out of the car to open it for her.

“Sorry, must dash!” she told the woman as she scrambled into the car.

The woman caught the door before she could close it.  “Let me at least give you my business card—”

It was an easier escape than most, so Yeonhee took it and settled into the seat, exhaling wearily as the car pulled away again, and then turned to greet the queen.

“What was that about?” the queen asked.  “Are people giving you trouble?”

Yeonhee shrugged awkwardly.  “I’ve had worse, ma’am.  She’s the fashion director of one of the big brands and she wants to give me lots of clothes to wear for free so more people will buy them.”

The queen sighed, resting her elbow on the window frame and peering out through the glass.  “Sharks, the lot of them,” she murmured.

“They don’t understand the meaning of no,” Yeonhee said tiredly.  She hesitated, but decided she was going to have to bite the bullet and ask, because now was as good an opportunity as any.  “Ma’am, should I be dressing more appropriately?  I mean, higher quality clothes and brands and stuff?”

After a moment, the queen turned and looked at her, giving her a quick appraisal with her eyes.

“For the sake of the perception of the media and the general public, you might want to make a few alterations to your wardrobe, yes,” she said.

Yeonhee deflated.  “Oh.”  She cringed internally, wondering how much she was going to have to spend and whether the queen was going to give her a recommended list of clothes and styles to wear or something.

“My dear, you never look scruffy,” the queen told her.  “It’s just that when you’re not wearing dresses, you seem to feel more at ease with comfort than elegance.  But that’s not a question of shopping for expensive clothes: that’s a question of developing an eye for shape and colour and coordination, and not everybody has that innately.  The average person will look at what you’re wearing and not see a problem with it unless they’re told there’s a problem with it, while they might recognise that you look distinctly better if your clothes are very well chosen.  However, people who do have that coordination sense, and people in the fashion world, will look at you with that sense and if they start saying that you don’t hold up to their standards, others will copy them.”

“Then what do I do?” asked Yeonhee, mentally trying to calculate if she had enough dresses to last her until the end of the exam season when she would finally have the time to go shopping.

“I can give you a few lessons on coordinating clothes and makeup,” the queen offered at once, her eyes lighting up.  “I’d been hoping to do it before Yixing introduced you to the country, but I was so busy, and now Yixing says you have exams coming up.”

There was such an innocent joy to the queen when she was passionate about something that Yeonhee couldn’t help smiling.

“I’d really like that, ma’am,” she said.  “Once my exams are over I’ll have some time on my hands and I’d really appreciate any tips you could give me.”

Beaming, the queen clasped Yeonhee’s hand between both of her own.  “Oh, it’s going to be so much fun!  We’ll go through your wardrobe first and see what you’ve already got and what we can do with it.  No point buying things you already have.”

Yeonhee managed not to grimace at the idea of the queen going anywhere near her wardrobe, but she made a mental note to do a good spring clean in it before the queen even got close to seeing it.

“Sehun says you’re taking the whole of Saturdays off,” Yixing said when he saw her, almost bouncing on his bed with childish excitement.

“He thinks my approach to exams is unhealthy,” Yeonhee grumbled, setting down her bag and coat beside his bed and pulling up the nearest chair.  The queen had decided to give them some time to themselves and was visiting various patients inste