If I had known this morning would involve being paraded through the city like a prized thoroughbred, I would have barricaded myself in my chambers. Permanently.
Instead, I stand before a mirror, scowling at my reflection as Mara and Elira gleefully lace me into the most absurd gown I have ever seen. The fabric—some shimmering concoction of crimson and black—cascades around me in layers that seem to multiply every time I blink. Embroidered dragons coil along the hem, their golden eyes glinting ominously. The bodice is adorned with gemstones that catch the light with every slight movement, and my shoulders are draped with an ornate black cape that flows dramatically behind me.
It's all… a lot.
[You look like the final boss in a particularly pretentious opera.]
I groan. This is excessive.
[Which means it's perfect.]
Mara, fastening the last of the golden clasps on my cape, steps back with a satisfied sigh. "Absolutely stunning, Your Highness."
