Aemond Targaryen Outfit Novels & Stories

“You can't go down with your eyes watery that way. Comport yourself before you step down….. I will wait till you put yourself together.” I exhaled a deep breath and wiped my face with my scarf. On doing that, I recalled that Tyrion had given back to me two scarves on that day he healed me in the school, and one of them was at home. “How did he get it? I lost it in that resort where I had a one-night stand." I contemplated. At that point, my heart was being freed. “I can't ask him, but it seems somehow that he brought it to me. Did he rent the room, find it there, and bring it to me because he saw me with another type of it?”

He was far away, lost in the firelight of the burning embers. His long black hair was loose around his strong jaw, with the golden crown pressing it down. The jewels of each point of the crown glimmered―blood rubies. He wasn’t in his traditional attire of high boots, pants, tunic, and cloak. Instead, he wore an all black suit, going with the more modern times. Jorah appeared downcast and lacked the usual joy of a birthday celebration. I didn’t see the Queen, Hellen―Laura’s mother, in the room.

Thusly, he found himself unwilling to give up that control again, to allow others to decide for him. He soon finished bathing and dried off, returning to the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. Dantares had prepared an outfit for him, a white shirt and pants, expertly tailored to match the young prince's body, and decorated with detailed maroon embroidery across the shoulders and at the cuffs. It was not as shiny or flashy as the silver outfits of the elves, but at least he wouldn't look too out of place. The other men would dress in simple, white formal attire, adequate if not impressive.

He took a deep breath and shook his head, a few drops fell on his chest, causing him some chills on the still boiling skin. He turned and began to get dressed as Doreon threw himself on the bed with his arms crossed behind his head. He wore a white tunic with black pants and boots up to his calf. He had attached the ancient sword that belonged to his family to the belt, accompanied by a dagger decorated with black gems and red rubies: the blade with black streaks was hidden in the sheath.

Certain dominant alphas truly cannot distinguish a diamond from a common river stone. The grand assembly mandated formal pack attire, but my private inventory contained zero pieces of ceremonial armor or designer cloaks. I had spent three winters revolving entirely around Draven’s hunting schedule, and with our marriage hidden from the border clans, there had never been a tactical reason—or a public forum—to display my rank. The single formal tunic I possessed was a winter-solstice gift from Draven’s grandmother last season: a deep emerald-satin ceremonial robe stitched with silver thread. When the robe was delivered to our den, the Alpha-Prime had received a matching tactical tunic—his iron

After he left Liam followed suit and flashed out of the castle to meet up with Ben. They won't follow the ladies but would likely keep track of them. To relay the final outcome of today exploration to their king. ******* "Is this clothes comfortable, I can help you with outing clothes" Rosie said to Andrea who was wearing assassin all black that looks similar to yesterday's outfits. Just that they are chains that beautifully designed the trousers she was wearing, the clothes was called body hug black outfits. The royals has separate outing clothes, if they want to have a view outside the castle, all clothes has the symbol of the devon.

He raised a brow. "My name is Amy, my lord." She answered and exited the room, not giving him a chance to ask any further question. After she left, he resumed his search in the wardrobe and also his thoughts a while later. He pulled out a leather black trouser, a leather black jacket and a matching T-shirt. Blacks weren't his colour and suits were not his thing, but perhaps that was what the ravens see fit for a prince because there was nothing more than that in the wardrobe.

“Today will be important. The wards… the whole future of the realm rests on them.” “Not just the magic,” he replied, serious. “But because today, everyone will see who you really are. Not who they thought you were. Who you are.” I nodded. Fear no longer led me. Determination did. ⸻ Soon we dressed. The robes fell to the floor, replaced by ceremonial garb. Aedan’s dark leather and silver, his chest marked with the wolf’s emblem. Mine white, embroidered in silver, a moon motif at the throat. My hair braided long, regal.

The two friends walked back to the prince’s room and got out some clothes to wear. “I think you should wear your white silk tunic and blue hose. You know, the ones that your mother gave you. After all, this is a special occasion.” “Don’t keep reminding me.” They continued to get dressed. Termâs put on his purple tunic and black hose. He also put on his broad sword and the black walking boots that he had cleaned the day before. He could hide several assorted weapons in those boots. He tossed his mail shirt into a bucket of oil that was on the floor. Yvayn put on his clothes plus his sword and dark blue leather shoes. There was no need for him to wear boots today.

He was lost in thought, taking in the majestic scenery around him. He wore a flowing tunic made of rich, deep blue fabric that fell to his knees. The tunic was embroidered with gold thread, displaying intricate designs that signified his royal status. The fabric was light and airy, allowing him to move with ease in the warm afternoon sun. Underneath the tunic, he wore a white, high-collared shirt that was neatly tucked into his black trousers. The trousers were made of the finest wool, hugging his legs and accentuating his muscular physique.