The Emperor's New Clothes (The perspective of theEmperor)

I loved clothes more than my crown. When two tailors promised magic cloth that fools couldn’t see, I ordered it at once—not because I believed them, but because I needed proof I was still wise.
My minister returned from the loom place, praising patterns I knew he couldn’t see. His trembling voice reminded me of how he’d lied about my waistline last spring. Yet I paid the tailors more gold.
The dressing day came. Servants pretended to hold robes as cold air bit my skin. There was a war breaking out in my mind—were they the fools, or was I? But then I stepped into the carriage, clutching invisible sleeves.
People cheered until a child shouted, "He’s naked!" The crowd froze. Angry,I saw the trembling bodies of my citizens. I don't knew whether they were awed or holding back their laughter. But I was the king, I wouldn't show them my weakness. King just wouldn't have faults.
"Louder music!" I commanded, marching on. Let them stare. Better a bare king they fear than a clothed one they pity.