The Shadow Princess by Sawyer Bennett

Author:Sawyer Bennett
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Paranormal, Fantasy
Publisher: Big Dog Books, LLC
Published: 2022-05-24T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 19

Thalia

“This is ridiculous,” I mutter with annoyance as I smooth my skirt.

“It’s expected,” Bastien says, his voice carrying through to the bedroom as he waits for me in the living area.

It seems that with all the royals coming to visit, wherein I will ask them to pledge immediate military support, it’s not acceptable for me to wear jeans or even one of the casual dresses I’ve purchased since returning.

Rather, I am expected to dress formally, and that means a gown in the Vyronasian style. One was delivered yesterday afternoon, along with a note from Laina Mercea requesting I wear it and with apologies that there were no royal jewels to accompany. I rolled my eyes at that because I’m sure absolutely no one traveling from the royal houses will expect jewels or even a formal gown.

Still, I will wear the damn dress because it was requested of me. There is something to be said for looking the part of not only heir to the Kestevayne throne but of the one who will lead the attack against Ferelith. They want me to look like the true adult I’ve become in the past seven years, and this dress leaves no doubt I’m a woman.

A full-length cream sheath of a material akin to silk, the gown gathers at the waist and drops to the floor in soft, fluid folds. Wide and plunging deeply, the neckline ends at the center of my chest, exposing the soft inner curves of my breasts. The skirt has a long slit straight up the front to mid-thigh, which exposes my legs as I walk or even upon a ruffle of a breeze. I used a healing potion to erase the discoloration from Snyder’s bruising, and thankfully, it also erased most of the soreness.

I was given a pair of crystal-studded heels to wear, and I feel like I’m going to topple over at any moment. Seven years of cowboy boots and tennis shoes have weakened my abilities to be comfortable in formal wear.

I step out of the bedroom and take in Bastien, leaning a hip against the kitchen counter. He’s dressed in battle gear rather than formal military attire. He’s done so to make a point to everyone.

This is not about ceremony, but war.

Bastien’s battle gear consists of black pants made of a stiff, denim-like material. Over that, leather guards are strapped to the thighs, knees, and shins. His top is a simple black tunic tucked into his pants, but with crisscrossing leather straps in the front that hold a metal breastplate to his sternum. The shirt is sleeveless, a nod to the warm weather, but his upper and lower arms bear metal plates to shield from sword blows. Steel-reinforced black leather boots make him battle ready and imposing as hell, given his brawn and height.

“Looks like you’re ready for a fight,” I muse with an approving smile.

He does not return it but instead grits out, “You’re not wearing that. Go change.”

Confused, I glance down at the dress Laina picked out.

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