Chapter 183: Embers Before the Flame
Chapter 183: Embers Before the Flame
Elyn’s POV
Two days.
That was how long it took us to finalize the remaining outfits after the ball gown had been chosen—no, presented—by shadows, or rather, Zorathys.
Two entire days of fabric, fittings, arguments, discarded ideas, and Rin dramatically declaring at least six times that we were "losing valuable political warfare hours."
By the end of it, I was certain that ruling a kingdom might be easier than choosing what to wear while doing so.
Throughout the day we got the ball gown, nothing else was decided on for the luncheon and the after party.
The luncheon, according to Morthen, was "a display of diplomacy disguised as politeness." The seven dukedoms would be present. It would be my first official introduction to them—not as rumor, not as whispered speculation, but as queen.
I wasn’t yet officially crowned, but these demons didn’t care. To them, I was already queen. Don’t ask me how because I’m surprised myself. It makes no sense but makes absolute sense, especially when it comes to the demons.
The luncheon ensemble was the first outfit we decided on, and that was the next day after the dress for the ball had been chosen.
"I refuse to let you sit there in a traditional gown," Rin had declared, pacing the room like a general inspecting troops. "It’s a luncheon and the first time you’re meeting them. It will be most daring if you make a statement. Something that shines like my jewelries."
Versha had tilted her head thoughtfully. "Yes, she must use something that screams her highness is a person of authority. Someone all demons should look up to."
Vaelory nodded. "It should show authority without oppression."
They were in thought for a while and I just stared at them.
"You know... since it’s a luncheon, I don’t need to wear a gown, right? Especially since it’s going to be about food," I said quietly.
They nodded.
"Do you have an idea, my lady?" Rin asked me.
"I could go with pants?" I asked her. "We’ve been trying gowns and none seem to stick..."
Vaelory, to my absolute shock, was the first person to reply and she was ecstatic. Honestly, I never thought Vaelory—my personal maid who had once tried to tell me I dressed like how the demons would dress... she wasn’t lying, by the way—would be the first person to jump at this.
"That is a fantastic idea, your highness," she said excitedly.
Rin frowned. "Really?"
Vaelory nodded. "Think about it. We want something that will make a statement, right? And we both know how exquisite the queen looks wearing pants. So how about she just wears them?"
Versha’s eight eyes widened. Honestly, I was getting so used to her eyes that I didn’t even squeak in shock—and neither did Vaelory, who collapsed at every opportunity she got whenever Versha was around.
"Authority without oppression," Versha said. "That really is a great way to make a statement."
Rin nodded. "I hate to say this, especially when it’s you, Vaelory, but your human birdie brain works well sometimes."
"I know," Vaelory said, making me chuckle.
But the idea was enough. Within minutes, the dressing room was filled with pants from various stores. The fact that the demon realm actually let their females wear absolutely anything they wanted to wear was honestly admirable. It wasn’t stiff like Aelthryn and no one was obliged to wear a hundred pounds of makeup that made them look like the second coming of ghosts or nightmares. I appreciated it a whole lot.
After what felt like years but really was just a few hours, we finally got the perfect ensemble. And no, the shadows didn’t pick it this time.
The pants were tailored, high-waisted, and fitted through the hips before falling into a sleek, straight cut down the leg. The fabric was a deep obsidian-black silk blend with a subtle matte finish—luxurious but restrained. Gold embroidery climbed delicately from the hem upward in controlled, flame-like patterns, with fine threads of red woven through the detailing.
The tunic I wore beneath the jacket was white. The neckline rose modestly, fastening with hidden clasps that created a smooth, uninterrupted line down my torso. The sleeves were fitted at the wrist, slightly looser through the forearm.
The jacket itself was high-waisted. Tailored to emphasize posture rather than curves, it matched the pants exactly—black with the same intricate red and gold embroidery along the cuffs and collar. The embroidery framed my shoulders and waist perfectly.
Rin, Versha, and Vaelory had insisted that I wear something similar to the dress I had for the ball. That it would give a statement, like a prelude to what was coming, but it would be subtle and at the same time classy.
When I first stepped onto the platform wearing it, Rin had gone still.
Versha had smiled.
Vaelory had whispered, "Oh."
"This is excellent, my lady. It’s exactly what we want."
"It is. It says you negotiate," Versha added.
"It says you win," Vaelory finished softly.
I had looked at my reflection and felt... steady. I couldn’t lie that I felt exactly how they said I looked. I looked powerful and I looked like someone who shouldn’t be trifled with.
---
The after-party attire had been another battlefield entirely.
"If the luncheon is diplomacy," Rin had said, tapping her chin thoughtfully, "the after party is... well, it’s the after party. It’s just partying, honestly."
"And that’s exactly why she should wear something that would let her move freely so she can party freely," Versha said, and the others nodded.
In the end, the dress we chose was deep ruby red—so rich it nearly bled into garnet when the light shifted. The silk was lighter than the ball gown’s, designed to move freely, to ripple with each step.
The neckline dipped gently. It wasn’t scandalous, but it was inviting. The waist was cinched with a wide gold-embroidered band that accentuated my figure before the skirt flowed outward in long, fluid lines that swayed like embers stirred by wind.
Gold embellishments traced the bodice in elegant patterns, curling like flame along the ribs and sweeping down the skirt in subtle arcs. The sleeves were loose and draped, falling off the shoulders slightly before tapering at the wrists in delicate golden cuffs.