Page 54 of The Crown of the Dark Prince
They didn’t. Tenebris only concerned itself with the heirs of House Zion. The presence of chaperones was an Athenian custom since our nation depended on the heirs of all High Houses.
Saharn’s nervous eyes bounced between Clay and I rapidly, as if she didn’t know how to respond. Nessira only rolled her eyes dramatically and took her key from the girl’s hand.
“I think that will be all, Saharn,” Nessira announced. “Surely I can serve as a chaperone this evening.”
“Surely,” Clay agreed, mischief coloring his gaze.
Nessira met his eyes without fear while Saharn retreated down the hallway. When it was finally just the four of us, she turned to me, a question on her face. Sighing heavily, I nodded, inclining my head in a silent instruction for her and Samsa to head inside. She was hesitant to leave at first, her eyes filled with silent warnings, but eventually they went into their suite, leaving Clay and I alone in the hallway.
I turned my icy glare on him.
“Come now, there’s no need for hostility,” he teased.
“Why do I feel like you’re hiding something from me?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
His gaze darkened, all playfulness suddenly fading away. “Funny, I’ve thought that same thing about you for months now.”
“Iris would love this,” I thought to myself as I gazed at my reflection in the mirror, picturing how her eyes would sparkle upon seeing the gown I had received.
Tenebrisian fashion was worlds apart from Athenian styles.
Nessira grumbled for nearly an hour about wasting her time packing gowns, only to find an entire closet of silks and jewels already awaiting me here. One look at the difference in style made it clear I’d stick out like a sore thumb if I wore anything we had brought with us from Athenia.
And so, the transformation began.
Nessira and Samsa drew a bath for me, scrubbing my skin and hair until the calming notes of jasmine and lilac replaced the lingering scent of salt and sea. Powders and creams filled the bathing chamber—some left my skin sparkling, others brought color to my cheeks, and still more smoothed the flesh of my legs.
When they deemed me sufficiently pampered, they selected a gown for the evening. The dress, pale pink and layered in shimmering chiffon, flowed to the floor, its fabric split into two daring slits over my thighs. Two narrow strips of fabric met at my navel and clasped over my shoulders in a plunging v-neckline, leaving my back, sides, and much of my chest exposed.
They wove my long blonde hair into intricate braids reminiscent of Saharn’s, incorporating sparkling jewels into the strands. More jewels adorned my ears, neck, and wrists, catching the light with every slight movement.
I looked at myself in the mirror and barely recognized the woman staring back—a dazzling, vibrant stranger who felt both delicate and powerful.
It was all a bit fun, actually. It was as if I was playing dress up and existing in a version of life where every decision I made, every gown I wore, and every word I spoke didn’t have to be carefully planned ahead of time. I could simply choose a gown that I liked because the color was delicate andthe cut of the fabric made me feel confident without having to worry if the Dragon would think it was the best representation of my House.
So far, my time in Tenebris had been terribly contradicting.
All at once, this visit was the culmination of everything that was forced upon me by being a Council member - politics, diplomacy, marriage, alliances - and yet it was the first time in so long that I actually felt able to breathe. The first time that I truly felt like myself and not just the puppet of my kingdom.
“The dresses here are certainly a bit more… revealing than at home,” Samsa murmured, smoothing the sheer blue fabric of her own gown. It was nearly translucent, with a faint underlining that offered just enough modesty.
Nessira, by contrast, wore her amethyst skirt and cropped blouse with ease, a golden sash draped elegantly over her shoulder.
“The Tenebrisian people are much freer than Athenians,” she said, catching my glance. “You’ll find many things are different here.”
“Have you traveled here before?” I asked, fastening my dagger to my thigh. The slits in the skirt were so high that wandering eyes might spot the weapon, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave it behind. Nessira’s gaze flicked to the dagger perceptively, but she said nothing. Once again, I was grateful for her understanding.
“My mother’s family is from Tenebris,” she explained. “She met my father while he was here on business. They built their lives in Athenia, but we visited often when I was a child.”
That explained her ease in this foreign palace, the way she seemed entirely comfortable in her revealing gown while Samsa awkwardly shuffled to cover exposed skin
I glanced at my reflection again, both awed and unsettled by what I saw. I somehow looked both delicate and powerful, beautiful and strong. And yet, all I could focus on was the false Descendant’s Mark Nessira hadpainted onto my chest—a reminder that my would-be husband would one day discover the truth.
“We should go, my Lady,” Samsa whispered, her voice hesitant, as though reluctant to pull me from my thoughts.
Sighing heavily, I turned to face them, my stomach twisting as I met their serious gazes. Even though Samsa was new to me, there was no need for pretense between us. We all understood how much I wanted to avoid this meeting.
Meeting Veric, putting a face to the name of the man I was to marry, would make the arrangement unbearably real.
