Chapter 299: Surplices, Sandals, and the King Who Walked Like He Owned It
Chapter 299: Surplices, Sandals, and the King Who Walked Like He Owned It
Elyn’s POV
Zorathys gave me a small nod and stepped back, disappearing into the line of copies, and then the next one stepped forward.
I stopped breathing for a moment.
This Zorathys was wearing something I had never seen before — not in the demon realm. It was similar to a surplice, the fabric flowing and loose, gathered at the shoulders and falling down his body in soft, elegant folds. The material was black in colour, but it seemed to move differently than the other fabrics, almost like it was alive.
The neckline was low.
Very low.
It moved down his chest, exposing his beautiful ridged chest that seemed to sparkle even in the dim lantern light. I had no idea how it did that. His skin wasn’t wet or oiled, but there was something about it — something that caught the light and reflected it back in tiny, shimmering fragments. Like stars had decided to settle across his collarbone and didn’t want to leave.
It sounded ridiculous, but it was the truth.
The dress fell to his ankles, the hem brushing against the woven mats as he walked, and on his feet were sandals. Simple sandals made of dark leather. They should have looked casual and unremarkable, but on Zorathys, they looked like they belonged in a palace.
His hair was loose, falling over his shoulders, and the gold threading on the dress caught the light every time he moved. It wasn’t obvious gold — not bright or flashy. It was subtle, woven into the fabric in patterns that only appeared when he turned a certain way.
He stood before me, waiting.
The dress was absolutely beautiful.
But I felt like something was missing.
I turned to Velvetta, who was standing nearby, her four tails still swaying slowly.
"Do you have jewelry here?" I asked. "Necklaces, bracelets, anything like that?"
Velvetta blinked, then shook her head.
"We have a small selection, Your Majesty," she said, her voice apologetic. "But nothing worthy of the King. If you are looking for jewelry, I would recommend a different stall. There is one in the Kitsunegawa Territory — it is the largest in the realm. They have everything you could possibly wish for. Gems from the Hellfire Territory, pearls from the Thalassar Domain, metals from the Golemhold. Nothing is beyond their reach."
I nodded, making a mental note.
Kitsunegawa Territory. The fox demon lands. That would be a trip for another day.
I turned back to the Zorathys in front of me. He was still waiting, patient, his ruby eyes half-lidded, his expression unreadable.
I sighed.
"This dress is beautiful," I said. "But it’s only five hundred points."
The Zorathys raised an eyebrow.
"Five hundred?" he asked.
"You’ll have to try it again later," I said. "With jewelry. Once we find the right pieces, it will be perfect. But right now, something is missing."
He stared at me for a moment, then sighed. It was a soft sound, barely audible, and I caught the words he muttered under his breath as he turned away.
"More work."
Then he disappeared into the line of copies, and the next Zorathys stepped forward.
This one was wearing one of the lounge gowns I had picked out — the deep burgundy one, soft and flowing, the fabric pooling around his feet like wine spilled across the mats. The sleeves were loose, the neckline simple, and the whole thing looked like it had been designed for lazy afternoons and quiet evenings, and perhaps that was why it suited Zorathys a little too well.
Thalira swooned, and then she collapsed onto the cushions with a soft thud.
"Eight," Velira announced immediately, counting on her fingers. "That’s eight for you. I’m still at six."
Thalira did not respond.
She was unconscious, and it would last for only thirty seconds, which was their agreed set time.
The Zorathys in the burgundy lounge gown was wearing flip-flops.
And somehow, impossibly, they suited him. The flip-flops should have clashed with the elegance of the gown. They should have looked out of place, inappropriate, like a king wearing pyjamas to a formal dinner.
But on Zorathys, they looked intentional. Like he had decided that comfort was more important than fashion, and because he was the Demon King, everyone else had to agree.
I gave him a thousand points.
He nodded and walked away.
The next Zorathys stepped forward wearing a chiton.
But this was no ordinary chiton. The fabric was a deep charcoal grey, almost black, and the brooch at the shoulder was made of silver, shaped like a serpent coiled around itself.
His arms were bare, and I could see the muscles beneath his skin, the way they moved when he shifted his weight. The chiton fell to his mid-thigh, and his legs were long and lean, and the flip-flops were back — of course they were — but somehow they worked with this too.
I gave him a thousand points.
He walked away, and the next Zorathys stepped forward wearing a tunic.
More outfits followed.
Each one was different. Each one suited him. Each one made me feel like I had made the best decision of my life by asking him to put on a show.
There was the backless design, the silver embroidery tracing down his spine. I gave it a thousand points and then made him turn around again just to be sure.
There were the flared trousers, dramatic and elegant, flowing when he walked. I gave them a thousand points and then asked him to walk across the room so I could see them in motion.
There were the deep blue trousers with the long sleeves, the red threading matching his earrings. I gave them a thousand points and then spent an embarrassing amount of time staring at the way the fabric hugged his arms.
There was the short-sleeved casual shirt, pale cream and loose.
And through it all, the children reacted.
Aziren clapped until his hands were sore. Zayrion filled page after page in his notebook. Brixton paid attention. Retheris continued his quest to understand how to be as handsome as the King.
While Thalira and Velira continued with their fainting competition, and I have to admit this was quite interesting.
Zorathys had entertained all of us, but we weren’t going to leave until the children also picked out their clothes too.