Chapter 42: The Morning After the Fashion War
Chapter 42: The Morning After the Fashion War
Rin squealed. It was unrestrained and sounded awfully like the cry of a demon woman who had just received the greatest news of her lifetime.
Don’t ask me if I’ve heard anything familiar before that I am now comparing her squeal to.
"PANTS?!" she shrieked excitedly. "My lady is an absolute demon!"
Hold up a bit. There is no way I am an absolute demon. I’m not even a demon.
"I’m not a demon, Rin," I told her.
"Oh, but you are married to one."
"Engaged, not married. We are to be married," I corrected, but Rin wasn’t paying me any mind.
She didn’t care that I even corrected her and told her that Zorathys and I were not married yet but were getting married—at least, not if I could help it.
"Engaged, married, it means the same thing. But anyway, only demons dress the way you do—stylishly and freely—and let me tell you, going with pants is the absolute best." She said this excitedly, then turned her back on me like the conversation was done.
Meanwhile, Vaelory stared at me like I had just announced my intention to join a traveling circus or maybe to kill myself with a guillotine. There was so much horror written on her face you would think I stole all her underwear and dumped them in a bucket of water just because her boyfriend asked me out but I turned him down—and then she came at me like I was the one who had cheated and tried to ruin my clothes, but she forgot we were roommates, so I took revenge by destroying her underwear...
Okay, that was wholly specific and maybe a teeny-tiny bit about something that happened in my past life.
But anyway, something just like that happened, and Vaelory had the exact same look my ex–roommate from hell had when I destroyed her underwear.
Her eyes widened. Her mouth fell open. It was like her entire soul left her body.
"P–pants?" she whispered, horrified. "Why... why would Your Highness ever choose pants? You are not going for a ride... right? You are not, I repeat, not mounting any horse or beast today, are you?"
"No," I said, deadpan.
Vaelory gasped like that made it worse.
While she spiraled into a dramatic meltdown, Rin was already halfway inside the wardrobe—her legs sticking out, a storm of fabrics flying behind her—digging for clothes as though she had been waiting her whole life for me to choose pants.
Then she popped out with a victorious grin.
"I found it!"
She held up a pair of black trousers—one I had custom made back when we were in Aelthryn.
They were soft but structured, perfectly tailored, the material smooth with a faint sheen. They were fitted at the waist, slightly loose around the legs, tapering elegantly at the ankles. Sophisticated, sleek, and perfectly comfortable.
She paired it with a tunic—deep, elegant gray, light and breathable, the neckline slightly open with delicate silver embroidery tracing the edges. The sleeves were loose and airy, tapering gracefully at the wrists. It looked royal, understated, and undeniably me.
I nodded at Rin. "Perfect."
Rin smirked triumphantly and started laying everything on the bed.
Vaelory, on the other hand, looked like I had personally stabbed her sense of culture, honor, and fashion all at once.
"But... but Your Highness..." she stammered, unable to process what was clearly, in her mind, an act of treason. "You are meant to wear something befitting Aelthryndivoryssalindria!"
I sighed. "Vaelory, you’ve known me long enough. You already know I’ve always preferred dressing freely. You can stop pretending to be shocked every single time."
"It is not pretence!" she cried, pressing a hand dramatically to her chest. "Your Highness is the Princess of Aelthryndivoryssalindria. Your attire reflects our culture. You must represent the kingdom with dignity and grace. Pants—pants do not represent us!"
I rolled my eyes and headed toward the vanity where Rin had already pulled out brushes and cosmetics like she was about to perform a sacred ritual.
Rin grinned and immediately began helping me change. She was fast, efficient, and startlingly comfortable with undressing and redressing someone who was still trying to shake off sleep. Vaelory, meanwhile, hovered around with growing despair, clutching the hideous greenish-yellow monstrosity she had chosen earlier like it was her emotional support gown.
Once I was fully dressed, Rin turned me to face the mirror—and honestly? I looked good. The trousers hugged perfectly, the tunic fell beautifully, and I actually felt like myself. She picked a pair of black boots for me to wear when I was done too, and they went perfectly with my clothes.
Rin stepped behind me and grabbed my hair, expertly brushing through it before pulling it up into a high, flowing ponytail. My hair spilled down my back softly.
Vaelory sighed dramatically beside us.
A long, tragic, exhausted sigh.
Then she dropped her hideous dress onto the bed with the defeated sadness of someone setting down a dying loved one. She walked toward the jewelry box, mumbling under her breath about "tradition" and "honor" and "What will the ancestors think..."
She opened the box, and what I saw—or rather, what Rin and I saw—made us freeze in shock.
Because Vaelory did not pick up something reasonable.
No.
She reached straight for the heaviest necklace in the entire collection.
It was enormous—thick gold plates embedded with large gemstones, the kind of necklace that could double as a murder weapon, self-defense equipment, or workout gear. I was pretty sure wearing it for more than an hour would realign my spine permanently.
Rin balked.
Her eyes widened. "Wha... is that hideous thing?"
Vaelory looked at her like she had sprouted three horns. "This is the finest jewelry in the realm! Crafted by the most skilled artisans! It is not hideous in any way."
Rin poked the necklace with one finger, like it might bite. "It’s hideous and heavy."
"It is heavy because it enhances beauty," Vaelory said with absolute seriousness.
Rin stared at her.
She stared back.
Even the necklace stared.
After a few silent seconds of that nonsense, I snapped the tension by picking up the smallest pair of earrings in the entire box—tiny, delicate gold studs shaped like miniature suns.
I slipped them on.
"That’s all. No necklaces today."
Vaelory opened her mouth.
Probably to protest.
Or faint.
Or scold me for insulting the ancestors again.
But before she made a sound—
Knock, knock, knock.
All three of us turned toward the door.