Aemond Targaryen Outfit Novels & Stories

They carried more clothes than normal and a brass tub was brought in. Mare frowned and looked up to find Vallezarii already dressed but in place of his royal robes was a tunic tucked into loose breeches and belted at the waist with his sword hooked to the belt. Over his tunic was leather armor laced at the sides but not tight enough to hide his protruding midsection. He wore the emblem of the royal house and a smaller crown on his head. “Dress her and bring her down at once. There is no time for delay.”

Gone were the soot-blackened boots that had trudged beside her across the Obsidian Wilds, the travel cloak that had hidden so much of his face beneath its hood, the restless shadows that had so often coiled silently around his feet like living creatures waiting for his command. He had bathed. Every trace of the journey had been washed away. His dark hair had been freshly combed back from his face, still faintly damp, and the clothes he now wore were unlike anything she had ever seen him in. Rich black fabrics embroidered with fine crimson thread rested beneath polished armour that gleamed in the warm firelight, the subtle silver fastenings and deep ruby gemstones speaking not of a wandering

It worried him because he did not want to have an uneducated person to be the commander in his royal armies. “I'm glad that Jeremiah has a good impact on you, brother,” he commented while wearing his tunic. Along with his two brothers, Jayden also wore his best velvet tunic, it's color dark brown embroidered with black yarn. The tunic made a great combination with his other royal attires, such as the cloak and his crown. After a few minutes of selves grooming in front of the mirror, the Blackfrost brothers were assured that they looked gallant in their outfits. “Are you planning to say the truth to Jeremiah after the sermon, brother?” Aiden suddenly asked Jayden the unsolved topic from yeste

The sky was a sheet of iron, and the air hung heavy with salt and smoke. Bianca stood before the mirror in her private chamber, fastening the last piece of her new armor a matte-black uniform trimmed in crimson silk. The crest of the serpent burned faintly across her shoulder. A queen in mourning. A commander in hell. Her hair was braided back, a single silver pin anchoring it a dagger disguised as an ornament. Matteo entered without knocking. He paused in the doorway, drinking in the sight of her. “You look like something carved from vengeance,” he said softly.

How much pain she was going through I had made sure to inform the every single staff in the castle to ignore her screams if they come across it, no one was going to save that bitch besides this can serve as a form of character development, how many people would do that for their siblings? I was cheerfully laughing until Cole Giles stood in front of me. He's not normally seen at this kind of event, and on a daily basis, he's dressed like a commoner. To my surprise, he wore a green tunic with a high collar, worn over a gold-colored breastplate. A long, green cape flowed over his shoulders, and a brown belt cinched his waist. Fingerless gloves completed his outfit. The green and gold color comb

His hair was combed and styled perfectly, every strand falling into place with effortless elegance. The black royal cloak with its intricate golden embroidery hugged his broad shoulders, the black waistcoat beneath it accentuating his strong frame, and the deep blue shirt peeked out at the collar, adding a touch of rich color that made his red eyes stand out even more. He looked breathtaking, like a prince stepped out of an ancient legend.

I leaned back against the lip, my fingertips in the water to soak out the gore that had collected beneath the nails, and closed my eyes, letting the heat ease sore muscles. “You have discovered the increase of monster activity for yourself then,” Aurien observed. I heard the proprietor’s wife gasp: “My king.” I opened an eye. “You’re dressed.” The fabrics were suited to the king of Vienthrey, the muslin of the shirt fine enough to be almost sheer, the trousers tucking into boots that were un-scuffed and finely tooled. The clothing was too light for the weather outside, but typical of the dragon, who did not feel the cold. His hair was loose but brushed and shone in the firelight. A magnifice

Royalty. My Lord’s attire had been crafted centuries ago by the blind tailors of the Moon Forge, stitched with thread laced in night-silver and lined with fabric spun from shadowmoth silk. The coat itself was deep maroon—so dark it looked black in certain light—with an underlayer of blood-gold embroidery that traced patterns of serpents and wings across the cuffs and down the spine. Twin clasps of onyx and iron sat like fangs at my chest. A high collar framed my neck, its tips like blades. Across my shoulders rested the mantle: a heavy piece of black velvet edged with ancient runes, the mark of my House glowing faintly in deep crimson at the center—a sun pierced by a sword.

Not my screams, not my tears, not all the nasty things I said about him, his parentage, his pride, his honor, and his strange-looking cloak. His cloak was indeed very strange. It had an unusual texture, unlike any cloth or leather I had ever touched. It felt more like some type of membrane, like the skin you peel from the top of milk, but more solid. It was the same bright green as his hair, which I could see peeking out from below his horned helm. Except for his helm, knee and elbow guards, which glowed iridescent blue under the green fire, the rest of his armor was crafted, or made, of dragon scales.

When she opened the garment bag, her breath caught. Dominic hadn't ordered a simple traveling gown. The clothes brought for her were magnificent, a tailored, structured tunic of deep emerald velvet that matched the sharp jade of her eyes, paired with form-fitting dark trousers and leather boots that rose past her knees. A heavy leather corset, embossed with the gold-threaded crest of the Amber Court wolf, fastened tightly around her waist. It wasn't the dress of a delicate palace lady; it was the attire of a sovereign.