Matching Robes Novels & Stories

Across the deck, under a rustic awning of white fabric on tall wooden supports, all decked with blue, red and white flowers, the red party waited: Jim Robinson right under the awning, with his brother and Liam McDonnell, No Return’s other guitarist, to his right. They wore Renaissance white shirts with long bag sleeves and laces sprouting from cuffs and collars. Black leather vests, down to their thighs, and broad red sashes hanging from their left shoulder across their chest, black trousers and high leather boots. Long red cloaks covered their right shoulder, falling all the way to brush the top of their boots. Liam McDonnell held a vertical red banner trimmed in gold, with a big golden su

Tonight, Amorth had been called to battle. Drying his wounds, he donned his ankle-length, hooded robe. It was plain, made of dark wool, accentuating the whiteness of his skin and hair. Tightening the rope-tie around his waist, he raised the hood over his head and allowed his red eyes to admire his reflection in the mirror. The wheels are in motion.

-Karen- I picked up the next parcel and opened it even more eagerly. The dark gray robes were just as pretty as the violet robes. There were variations of purple, black and silver in the fabric but there was a touch of lace on the cuffs and the collar. “Oh! It has lace like the under dress!! It looks so regal Conor!” I was thoroughly impressed with the robes. These are so pretty too! Lacey and powerful looking! “I wanted them to be similar but also unique. Let’s take this one off of you for now because I want to see how the black set fit.” Conor instructed as Joanne came over and carefully folded the gray robes. Conor helped me out of the purple robes and then handed them to her.

With renewed determination, Ashier got up from his bed and prepare for the pack meeting, determined to figure out the identity of his mate and the reason for her danger. Ashier walked towards his wardrobe and opened the doors, revealing an array of fine clothing. He took out his royal robes. The robes were a deep shade of maroon, trimmed with gold embroidery that depicted the symbol of his pack. The robes were made of the finest silk, which felt soft and smooth against his skin. The robe was long and flowed elegantly as he walked. The robe was also embellished with intricate beading around the edges, giving it a regal appearance.

Today Yibel looked particularly smart in a brand new ceremonial robe. Apprentice magicians all wear brown robes, and the mages' ceremonial robes are blue, symbolising pure magical energy. Below the fourth rank, only the cuffs are patterned; the fifth to ninth ranks have patterns on the garments, and the tenth to fourteenth ranks have embedded magical patterns. From the fifteenth rank, they can wear whatever style they like, and no one can control the Masters.

He reported. I looked at the time and didn’t know that it was already late in the afternoon. Time flies when you are focused on working. I slumped my back to my chair and pinched the bridge of my nose. I rested for a while and then started to change. I was surprised to see what clothes Tia provided me. It was a formal suit with a robe that is colored red and embroidered with gold. It was long enough to call it a gown. It has a rope in the chest part to connect both sides to keep it from falling. I am truly amazed at the design of the robe, you can feel by seeing that it is for royals.

I carried on with my project, determined to do away with every distraction. I carefully cut and pieced the fabric, ensuring a flowing, relaxed fit that drapes gracefully on my body. I ensured the robes featured a loose, draped design with a subtle hi-lo hem, creating a sense of movement and fluidity, like the moon's gentle orbit. “What's up with me and the moon,” I thought to myself. My robe was ready and good to go, but I still had to put some finishing touches to it. I added a delicate, beaded crescent moon symbol on the left shoulder, serving as a beautiful focal point.

The ballroom gradually returned to motion, but the whispers would take longer to fade out. "Are you alright?" Robbie asked, turning back to me. I reached up and gently placed my hand over his forehead. Warmth passed through my fingertips as I fed a little healing magic into the small cut. "I'm fine," I said, letting my eyes roam over him. He'd slicked his hair back—mostly, anyway. The stubborn red curls refused to stay flat. And he was in uniform. Not his usual t-shirt and jeans, but the ceremonial military one. Clean lines, broad shoulders, medals gleaming on the deep navy fabric.

“You can touch me when Nessa is not about to walk onto my lot with a ghost.” “How do you know?” Rook’s voice from the bay. “Because she is here.” Nessa stood at the fence line with sunlight on old pack colours. In her hands, a jacket. Not mine. Not the one I rode in. His spare. The one that had lived in a yard before a till girl. It looked smaller. Meaner. Like it remembered other shoulders. She hung it on the chair just inside the open bay, careful, almost tender. “It still fits a real rider,” she said. “I checked.”

"Gideon, did you claim that you can refine a Soul Preservation Pill? Do you even think before you speak?" Gideon couldn't be bothered to explain. He simply moved on and unveiled the Johnsby royal family's offering. It was a robe. Evan explained, "Gideon, don't underestimate this white robe. It's made from a special material with exceptional defensive capabilities. It's resistant to fire and water, impervious to blades and spears, and extremely tough. "For a battle maniac like you, having a durable outfit might save you from a lot of awkward situations." "Excellent!" Gideon was quite pleased. Running his hand over the robe, he could feel a smooth, warm texture. Clearly, it had some bodily nou