Chapter 296: Silver Designs, Bare Backs, and the King Who Became a Model
Chapter 296: Silver Designs, Bare Backs, and the King Who Became a Model
Elyn’s POV
I didn’t wait for Zorathys to change his mind.
The moment he agreed, I moved. My feet carried me across the room toward the racks before my brain had even finished processing what I was doing.
"Velvetta," I called out.
The purple-furred fox demon appeared at my side immediately, her four tails swaying behind her.
"Yes, Your Majesty?"
"Show me where the male clothes are."
Velvetta blinked once, then nodded. She turned and walked toward the far side of the room, past the gowns and the suits and the suit jumps.
I followed her.
From across the room, Zorathys’s voice reached me, lazy and amused.
"I thought you said you had the perfect dress for me."
I didn’t turn around.
"That’s what I’m getting," I called back.
"But I thought you already had it."
So maybe I lied about having the perfect dress, but so what?
"Be quiet," I said to him as I began scanning the clothes in front of me. "Let me work."
Zorathys gave a light chuckle in reply.
The clothes here were different. They were sharper, cut with angles and lines that spoke of power rather than softness. Jackets with structured shoulders. Trousers that fell in clean, straight lines.
I ran my fingers over the fabrics.
Silk. Velvet. Something that felt like linen but softer and smoother.
And then I found it.
The perfect dress he couldn’t try on.
The shirt was black in colour. The fabric was soft to the touch, and when I held it up, I could see the silver designs embroidered along the collar and down the sleeves. They weren’t obvious — not at first glance. They caught the light only when moved.
But the back.
The back was what made me smile.
The shirt had no back. Not entirely. There was a circle cut out of the fabric, large enough to show bare skin — to show his shoulders, his spine, the curve of his back. It was framed by the same silver embroidery, delicate patterns that traced the edge of the opening.
The trousers were black too, with silver designs running down the outer seams. They would sit low on his hips, I realized, and the thought made my mouth go dry.
I turned around, holding it out in front of me like a trophy.
Zorathys was still standing where I had left him, his arms crossed, his ruby eyes watching me with an expression that hovered somewhere between curiosity and resignation.
"Try this on," I said.
He looked at the dress.
Then at me.
Then at the dress again.
Then he sighed.
It was a long, defeated sound, the kind that suggested he was already regretting every decision that had led him to this moment.
"The dressing room is this way, Your Majesty," Velvetta said, gesturing toward a screen on the opposite side of the room — different from the one I had been using, larger, with darker wood and paintings of foxes hunting under moonlight.
Zorathys’s shadows took the dress from me as he walked toward the dressing room.
Aziren stood up from the cushions, his small flames flickering with excitement.
"I want to help," he announced.
Brixton moved too, nodding in agreement, eager to help, but Zorathys’s shadows stopped them.
They didn’t push or shove. They simply appeared in front of the children — two small shapes of darkness, one shaking its head at Aziren, the other doing the same at Brixton.
Aziren pouted at that while Brixton looked down. Even Zayrion, who had not stood up from where he sat, had his ears flatten in obvious disappointment.
Zorathys disappeared behind the screen, and the room fell into a waiting silence.
The children shifted on their cushions. The fox demons adjusted their books.
Now, when I always dressed, it took longer than a few minutes, but for gorgeous Zorathys, it was just two minutes.
Zorathys stepped out then, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve.
The collar sat high against his neck. The sleeves were fitted, hugging the lean muscle of his arms before flaring slightly at the wrists. The silver designs traced down his arms.
"Turn," I said to him.
I was more interested in the back.
Zorathys raised an eyebrow but did as I asked.
He turned slowly, his movements lazy and deliberate, like he knew exactly what he was doing to me. The shirt shifted with him, the fabric flowing, and ooh la la.
I know I have plans to leave, but my fiancé was delicious.
His shoulders were broad. His waist was narrow. The curve of his spine disappeared into the waistband of the trousers, and I imagined running my hands down that line — tracing it, following it, feeling the warmth of his skin under my fingers.
What a beautiful back. What deliciousness.
I was fangirling at this point.
I almost squealed too until I remembered I was still Queen-to-be, and then I arranged my expression.
"You can face me," I said calmly.
He turned to face me.
His ruby eyes were half-lidded, patient, watching me with that lazy intensity that always made my heart forget how to beat properly. His lips were curved in a smirk.
"Well?" he asked. "What’s the verdict?"
I nodded.
"It’s perfect," I said. "A thousand points."
And it was.
The dress fit him like it had been made for him. Like someone had measured his shoulders and his waist and his arms and then woven the fabric specifically to frame him. The silver embroidery caught the light every time he moved, and his bare back — that circle of exposed skin — was somehow both subtle and devastating.
I turned to Velvetta.
"Add it to Zorathys’s tab," I said.
Velvetta nodded and began writing in her notebook.
Then I turned back to the racks.
"I have more for you to try on," I said excitedly.
This was the best decision I had made since arriving in the demon realm. Better than agreeing to the tour. Better than letting the children come along. Better than anything.
Zorathys was annoying. Frustrating. Infuriating.
But he was also delicious to look at.
And right now, he was wearing a shirt that showed off his bare back.
I did a little dance at the racks — nothing dramatic, just a small bounce of excitement, a wiggle of my shoulders that made Velira and Thalira giggle.
I was reaching for something else for him to try on when I heard his voice speak right next to my ear.
I had no idea he had even moved, and now he was behind me.
"Just pick out everything you want me to try, Firefly."
His voice was low — a deep tenor that sent tremors down my spine.
And that traitorous heart of mine...
Yeah, it skipped a beat again.