Crimson Gown Novels & Stories

A lot can change in a few years and even a few months, and I am no longer that spoiled princess. Caterina chose an off-the-shoulder Grecian crimson evening dress to represent the BloodCrest pack as Luna. Lilith is in a sleek black and red dress, which accentuates sexiness. Nova in a baby blue, one-shoulder evening gown which shows off her teeny tiny bump and me in a champagne evening gown with a princess neckline. Luckily for us, they were the last gowns in stock, and we also found matching shoes and accessories.

In front of me, hanging from the carved wooden rack by the window, was the gown. Crimson red. Strapless. Floor-length. It was stunning — a rich, bold color that swallowed the light and gave it back in fire. The bodice was fitted, the waist drawn in with precise tailoring, and the skirt fell into a cascade of soft, elegant folds. It looked like something pulled from a storybook — something meant for queens. The color meant something. Red — the shade I used to wear like armor, the color I used to signal strength. But tonight, it felt different. It wasn’t just armor. It wasn’t just fashion.

she said nervously, holding up a deep emerald gown, "is hand-stitched with real crystals imported from…" "Not green," I interrupted coolly, waving it away. "I want something bold. Something dominant." The designer swallowed and quickly presented a blood-red gown. The second I laid eyes on it, something in me purred. It was a masterpiece, a molten river of crimson silk that would cling to every curve, with a daring slit up one thigh and a plunging neckline that screamed power. The long train shimmered slightly when it caught the light, giving it an almost living aura.

The black curtain drew open. The first model stepped out, wearing a gown designed by Olivia. It was simple yet graceful, with clean lines and a calming shade of navy blue. The audience whispered in awe. Then the second model appeared, wearing a gown with golden embroidery, as though old wounds had been healed. A small cheer rose from the crowd. One by one, the gowns appeared. Each one told a story. There was a dress with asymmetric cuts, symbolising the beauty in imperfection. A blazing red gown—symbol of courage. A white gown with shimmering crystals—symbol of new hope.

"Try all of them." Adaline blinked, her surprise clear as she questioned it softly, but Vivian only nodded, firm and certain, reminding her of the black card they had and pushing her gently inside before closing the curtain. Minutes later, the curtain opened. Adaline stepped out in a crimson red gown. The fabric hugged her body perfectly, tracing every curve with effortless elegance. It fitted snugly through her waist and hips before flaring slightly at the bottom, giving her a graceful silhouette. The neckline dipped just enough to highlight her collarbones without revealing too much, while the rich crimson color warmed her skin, making it glow. Her hair had been loosened, falling softly ov

Cancelling the festival would give them exactly what they wanted. I would not allow it. Greta stood behind me in the Luna Wing, fastening the final clasp of my ceremonial gown. The dress carried Ironclaw’s formal colors. Deep black fabric hugged my upper body before flowing over my hips in long, graceful folds. Silver embroidery decorated the neckline and sleeves, forming wolves, claws, and crescent moons. A fitted silver belt rested at my waist, emphasizing rather than hiding my curves. For once, I did not try to make myself appear smaller.

Finally, midnight approached. Helen and the specialists returned to dress me. The gown was made of deep crimson velvet, so heavy it felt like armor. The bodice was embroidered with gold thread in the shape of the Valerius crest. Around my neck, they placed a collar of rubies that felt incredibly heavy. My hair was left down, flowing in waves, with a delicate crown resting on my brow. "You are ready," Helen said, her voice uncharacteristically soft.

KRISTINA'S POV The Crimson Snow Pack members gathered together in the lobby. We were all dressed identically, but I felt like I stood out the most. Our theme was supposed to make us wear all black, and yet, I was the only exception—I wore a red dress that was tight on my waistline, which exposed the curves of my body. Even my breasts almost popped out because of their size. This was what Laurence told me to wear a while ago in preparation for his coronation night.

*The next day* The festival preparations has been taking place, the palace has been decorated with the best and most expensive flowers were spread everywhere. The festival field were filled with the citizens trying to make sure everything else goes as it was planned. Crimson wore the best Royal gown the one her father gave to her during her first coronation when he first got sick and felt he needed to retire, the gown brought so much memories of her dad to her, how he died all of a sudden remain a Shocked to everyone.

She leaves as fast as she came. I stare at the dress. My hands shake a little. Sonya sits on the chair by the window. She looks so pale. “I got one too,” she whispers. “Black. Simple.” We do not talk anymore, we just got ready. I put on the red silk. It fits tight and shows too much skin. The collar stays around my neck, a silver cold. Sonya helps with my hair, she makes it into loose waves, adds a little makeup on my face, and gives me red lips. We look pretty, like dolls.