The Kingdom's Crown (Inheritance of Hunger #3) - Kathryn Moon Page 0,81
of Kimmery's best fencers, you look very much the delicate princess now."
I scowled at the mirror, even as I added a little extra stain to my bottom lip. "Don't remind me. I'm still sore over the losses."
Morgan laughed. "I imagine that's how many of the men feel."
"I've been too out of practice since I returned south. If I wasn't so rusty—"
"Stars, you are a sore loser."
I whipped around to glare at Morgan, but her jaw dropped as I faced her, gaze taking a very flattering path over me and back again. I glanced back into the mirror. I did think I looked pretty. It was nice just to be out of mourning and able to wear colors again, and while pastels might've been more appropriate, they were also the most popular shades in fashion lately. My gown was a deep shade of turquoise in a sheer fabric, pale and gauzy around my breasts and at the full skirt, and the color of dense evergreens in the mountains at my waist. It was beaded with vivid blood-red flowers and golden vines that caged my hips and waist, blooming up to my breasts to hide the sheer quality of the fabric. There was something almost gruesome about it at first glance, striking and shocking, but undeniably beautiful.
"Are you trying to make Kimmerian dressmakers go mad? That cut is…"
"It's new. Do you like it?" I asked, twisting side to side.
Morgan scowled at me, flapping her arms that were swallowed by the enormous volume of sleeves. My sleeves were just beaded lace cupped below my bare shoulders. "I am very cross with you for not sharing it sooner. I feel like a cream puff, and you look… It's a bit risqué somehow, though I can't place why."
My collar was a little lower than hers, although since my breasts were smaller, it just revealed more skin than décolletage. My hips were wider too, so while the new cut of my dress followed my natural shape before flaring out into great yards upon yards of skirt, Morgan's flared very intentionally below the waist, supported by a bustle around her hips.
"Have your men seen it?" Morgan asked.
I waved my hand through the air. "I should think they're fairly tired of seeing me in new dresses."
Morgan snorted and muttered something under her breath along the lines of 'out of them,' before clearing her throat. "Well, I just came to tell you that it's time to get downstairs."
I nodded and turned back to my mirror, reaching up to the top where Aric's golden snake rested. It slithered into my palm and then coiled happily around my throat, it's head nestling down at the hollow of my collar bone.
"Any sign of Camellia?" I asked.
"I caught a maid saying she was having a bit of a tantrum as they dressed her," Morgan said.
I smirked and fought the expression away, but my friend just rolled her eyes. Camellia had made a scene earlier at the fencing tournament too when she hadn't been allowed to interrupt a match to claim one of the fencers. Mother had finally released her from the duty of hostessing in the afternoon after a public display with a few of her Chosen, but there was no getting out of the ball. Our queen was too excited for the evening.
In fact, my entire schedule for the month had been received by Mother with great success. "Oh yes! This is just what we need to brighten our spirits until spring. And then we might have garden events. Good sporting. Days at the beach, don't you think?"
We had another week before the council would vote on the succession law, and I wanted to be sure that Camellia had well and thoroughly hurt her favor with the nobles.
I followed Morgan to the front room of the suite, and just as she had paused at the sight of me, I did so at the vision before me. Seven men, in tailcoats and high collars, their boots polished and fine clothes shining in the candlelight. Wendell, Cosmo, Daniel, and Cresswell looked the part of perfect Kimmerian gentlemen, and Thao was fully glorious in his longer, embroidered, vivid red coat. I'd been lenient with Owen and Aric's dress, so their collars were open, coats darker and a little less tightly fitted, but it left them debonair and rakish in appearance.
And in spite of what I'd claimed to Morgan, their stares on me were gratifying.