Matching Robes Mga Nobela at Kwento

One hand remained on the small of the king’s back as they turned and disappeared through a set of shadowed doors. Madelyn handed them two robes—dark, sleek, and clearly tailored from expensive material. They were heavier than expected, lined with something impossibly soft. Julian slipped his on without a word. Jace muttered something under his breath but did the same. Once the robes were on, both men reached for their collars. The metal was cool against their fingers—another reminder of the game they’d just played. Julian unclasped his first, slipping it off with controlled ease before placing it in Madelyn’s hand.

Then, he respectfully draped the robe over Liam's shoulders. "Salute!" everyone shouted in anger. Their solemnity enveloped the surroundings and stunned everyone else. At the wave of Liam's hand, the dark green robe sliced through the air, revealing a realistic dragon that was embroidered on the robe with gold thread. It was a ferocious golden dragon in flight with its claws out. As the robe draped around Liam's body, the stars on his shoulders twinkled. Liam looked like a dragon itself as he stood there. People just could not help but resist bowing down and submitting to him.

A part of me hoping that he would be gone by the time I exited the bathroom only to fail when I see him still standing there waiting for me. Grant now dressed from head to toe in complete business attire minus the suit jacket. Noticing my quick return does Grant move to hand me a robe. A robe in which I notice is made out of silk. The material a soft rich emerald color all while trimmed with a soft black lace along the edges. A robe in which screamed sexy. Something that was clearly not me and unsure if it ever would be either. But only time would tell if it would. Holding up the robe does Grant offer to hold it open for me as I tentatively move to slip in an arm followed by the other before

“I am just a village girl, I have no understanding of magic, why would you ask me?” He looked at me from the corner of his eye. “Was one answer the answer, or both?” he asked. “Both of us,” I decided. “Why would people seek entry to this place, if not for freedom or power?” He frowned but redirected his attention to the stair and our gradual climb. At the top, a robed figure waited us. The midnight blue fabric of the robes was embroidered around the sleeves, down the front closure, and around the hood that was pulled up casting the person’s face into such shadow I could only pick out a strong nose and stubble ringing a full lipped mouth. The robes reminded me of Rivyn’s cloak, except not so

Jayson ordered. I saw the other two men pick up the practically lifeless body and run through the forest. While he had been busy giving his orders, I had taken the opportunity to shift back and pull on some clothes. Jeans and a vest top with some sandals, I was used to travelling light these days and it was pretty much the same outfit I had worn for the last ten years.

The two would be married soon she hoped. She finished her grapes and got out of the tub and let the water run out. She dried herself, applied body cream onto her body and blow dries her hair. She went into the closet and picked white jean trousers, a white t-shirt and a red robe to cover herself with. She couldn’t wear anything without a robe on top. The robes represented her status as a seer though most people couldn’t grasp that concept. She didn’t want to tie up her hair so she put some hairpins so that her hair won’t fall on her face.

[Somehow your expression irritates me] He exhaled a short breath and scratch his head. I looked down. I forced my eyes to watch his red swirling robe, anywhere from his eyes. Pure bright red, like blood, with gold and silver cursive shapes and designs. Awestruckingly beautiful. It could be my mind playing tricks on me again but I could have sworn they move. [What? You want a robe like this too?] He asked with a tone I can’t begin to describe. Something in between of amuse and joking but his eyes weren’t wearing the slightest trace of humor. I’m confused. He’s somewhat shady, but not scary.

I transformed myself back into a woman and slipped on a silky robe that was cut short and vaguely resembled a kimono with its black material punctuated by vibrant crimson lotus flowers. The robe was cut at the thigh probably half an inch shorter than what could be considered family attire but with only daughters and a horny husband in the house it really wasn’t an issue.

Tonight, Lyon intended to seize exactly what he wanted in return. He found the robes in the private spa area—thick, midnight-blue velvet trimmed with silver piping and embossed with the silver lightning bolt of the Stormbreakers logo. He shed his tailored clothes, leaving his undergarments folded neatly on the counter beside his discarded jersey. He scrubbed his face, watching the painted numbers of the pack wash down the drain.

“They’re waiting in the Great Hall. You….. you should wear this.” She held out a garment I had never seen before: silver fabric woven through with threads that caught the light like frost. The Luna’s robe. The one worn only by those who had balanced blood and moon, leader and goddess. I almost laughed. “That’s not for me.” “It is now,” she said gently. The robe felt heavy as she fastened it across my shoulders. It didn’t belong to me, not yet, but the weight of it made my spine straighten. When we stepped into the corridor, silence followed.