I looked at myself in the polished mirror they'd provided, and I wasn't sure whether to be mortified or impressed.
The ceremonial robe was beautiful, I had to give them that, flowing silk in soft colors that shifted between cream and pale gold, catching light in ways that made the fabric seem alive.
But "covering" was a generous description of what it actually did.
The neckline plunged in a deep V from my throat to my sternum, showing significantly more chest than I'd willingly displayed in public ever, the sleeves hung loose from my shoulders with deliberate gaps that exposed skin every time I moved, and while the lower half was mercifully substantial, the whole thing felt designed to show off rather than conceal.
I looked pretty, objectively, in a way that made me want to find a coat.
A very large coat.
Preferably one that covered everything.
Then I looked at Azryth and forgot about coats entirely.
