Cornrows Women Novels & Stories

CORA Two days remained before the interpack meeting and I sat on a low stool while the maids worked on my hair. They moved their hands fast and pulled my curls into neat rows. One of them opened a small book and read out refined words for me to repeat. I tried to follow but my tongue felt stiff. They kept correcting me and asked me to hold my chin up.

I gently ran my fingers over the threadwork. “T-These are so beautiful…” I murmured under my breath. My heart swelled at the sight. I turned my attention to the hairpins next. Each one had tiny, glistening details, shimmering ornaments molded into various intricate shapes. There were flowers, stars, leaves, and abstract curves, each one catching the morning light. They were things I never thought I’d touch, let alone own. They were delicate and Feminine. “Speaking of your dresses,” Cairo said gently. “I’ve already bought the fabrics. The seamstresses in the main village have started making several sets. It’ll take a while before they’re ready, but that’s alright… you’re still in recovery, an

We decided to split up on this one – always staying in sight of our mates, but giving people the opportunity to come and speak with us privately if they’re so inclined. The strategy works. A great variety of people come and introduce themselves to Cora and I, and I’m pleased to see that the majority of these people are women. I smile a little smugly inside, glad that I was right – that the women who attend our coronation as part of these delegations who might feel awkward or shy approaching the gigantic, intimidating Sinclair brothers feel differently about approaching two women, one pregnant and the other holding a baby.

The scene was explicit in my mind: the dim, flickering lights, the electrifying energy of the crowd, and the rush of the fight. But this time, it was different. There, in my corner of the ring, stood Penelope. She was dressed casually in a white tank top and blue jean shorts, her fiery red hair pulled back into a ponytail. The image of her in that gritty, raw environment was striking an unexpected yet alluring contrast.

A slit in the gown revealed the pants beneath, paired with a corset that lifted her breasts. I couldn’t help but notice she wore nothing on top her head. The High Lady wore a crown, while even Aralia wore a circlet that wrapped around her head. Oddly enough, Alette and Adelina also wore nothing on their heads. Upon meeting my eyes, she nodded in acknowledgement, her eyes lit with dark excitement. “Tamara?” Alette asked, cocking her head to the side. She shrugged, watching my silent and quick exchange with Tamara.

Miranda, who was already extremely angry at Charlotte, was even more furious after being inflamed and agitated by Tiffany. “Huh! You may be afraid of her, but I’m not. Just you wait, Tiff. I swear on my name that I’ll make her life super-miserable this time!” Coraline not only ran a women’s clothing store but was also a fashion designer. When Charlotte walked into her store, Coraline was tailoring clothes for a female customer. Charlotte sat aside quietly and did not disturb her work.

In this big frame, there were four people. His Mother, a lean woman with piercing auburn hooded eyes that had a glint of humour in them, bold and black eyebrows, high cheek bones accompanied by a neck that looked like a bit of a stretch. Her auburn hair was made into one big cornrow, leaving only wavy strands out to cover some parts of her face.

Cornelia rose from her chair and grabbed a Halter neck tulle dress embroidered with a baroque organza bodice strapped with a Taffeta overskirt on the waistline. I quickly put on the pink gown, which exposes my entire back but looks more like the dresses princesses wear in Disney World. I decided not to put on anything too high because I won't like the fact that I might slip off today. After all, that would be a total turn-off. 'Contestant number ten, Cornelia Jamarreon.' When the director called out, I leapt from my seat. I was number five last time, and now I'm number ten.

But why didn't anyone mention it? "Hehe." Sheng Nini smiled and gently and carefully put the crown on Gladyce's head. She straightened her head and praised, "Sister Gladyce, you're so beautiful... This crown is made in accordance with Brother Ximing's manuscript. It really suits you." "Er... Thank you." Gladyce smiled and reached out to help Wang Guan up. She asked Sheng Nini in a low voice, "Does every madam have this?" "Yes." Sheng Nini nodded. "Of course, the last lady wearing a crown is Granny Celia Lea. I didn't see her... But I'm still very lucky. I saw Sister Gladyce wearing a crown."