The Sword And The Dress Novels & Stories

He didn’t know much about weapons, since his knowledge about weapons from the previous world is only about guns, and he could only see a few guns and pistols there. The clothing store, however, is kind of unique. It sells hunting gears, obviously, and Claude even eyed something for a good few seconds. But it also sells armor, and armor dress. It reminded him a bit of that animated movie about a certain female knightess with blue battle dress. The difference is this one’s red, and not as puffy. Clearly, the dress’ skirt is just an accessory, because there’s also a pair of long armor pants and boots underneath the skirt.

Didn't they say he would bring a dragon? She raised her head slowly to see that it wasn't the king but a woman who was smoothly getting off the horse with the help of one of the warriors. She was wearing an armless, long and flowing, blood red dress. It dazzled under the moonlight as it stuck carefully to her fair, slightly curvy body. It had a slit from the middle of her breast, down to the right side of her waist. Then another slit from her right mid-thigh all the way down.

I make up the rules of our game as I go along and my bride earning rewards is a new one. I remove the bar and enter without knocking. She's sleeping sideways on the bed with the covers tangled around her. Somehow she has managed to remove the sword from the wooden table. I slammed it deep enough that I know it had to be difficult to dislodge. I set the tray down where I'd buried the sword. For some reason, the clang of removing the bar from the door didn't wake her, though the scrape of the tray does. She leaps to her feet somehow avoiding twisting herself within the covers and falling. She holds the sword held in front of her with two hands. The dark tresses of her hair are messy and stick

I make up the rules of our game as I go along and my bride earning rewards is a new one. I remove the bar and enter without knocking. She's sleeping sideways on the bed with the covers tangled around her. Somehow she has managed to remove the sword from the wooden table. I slammed it deep enough that I know it had to be difficult to dislodge. I set the tray down where I'd buried the sword. For some reason, the clang of removing the bar from the door didn't wake her, though the scrape of the tray does. She leaps to her feet somehow avoiding twisting herself within the covers and falling. She holds the sword held in front of her with two hands. The dark tresses of her hair are messy and stick

Amidst the burning effect on her hands, she managed to pull it out and rushed to the battlefield. With her hair tied in a high ponytail and her long dress slowing her down, she grabbed the dagger from her back and slit her clothing halfway. Revealing her inner clothing that covers up from her waist to her thigh. Moving the silver sword below her neck, cutting her long burgundy dark blue hair.

The dress is beautiful. Black silk with red and orange crystals at the bottom, made to look like flames crawling up the dress. It’s paired with a tiara of black iron. My hair is in an elaborate braid down my back and laced with small red stones. I smile at my reflection. The girl in the mirror is one I remember to be a fierce dragon warrior, one who would do anything to protect her family, but would do exactly as she was told. The perfect daughter.

Despite my appearance I feel as though I am about to attend a funeral rather than my own wedding. "I feel that this dress is far too beautiful to be stained red," I worry. It is a shame that two months were spent making this dress only for it to be ruined. I knew from the very start putting so much effort into this wedding was going to be for nothing. "I am certain the dress is the last thing you need to concern yourself with," Evalene sighs. Turning away, she picks up my sword from where it sits on the bed. She walks up to me, bending down, setting the sword on the floor. then goes on to lift my dress up.

She made her way towards a dark, deserted house, her heart pounding with anticipation. Once inside, she quickly discarded her drab clothing and emerged moments later, a completely different woman. Donning a sleek black warrior dress, she now wore a mask that covered her face. In her right hand, she held a deadly sword, its sharp blade glinting menacingly in the moonlight.

“I feel like I’m living in the wrong time. The sleeves feel like it’ll get in the way of sword, though. This, uh, lower part reaches up to the end of my dress.” “They did say you’re quite the sword user if you finish the dance with no damage to the dress.” The Queen replied. “Although, I don’t think it has anything to do with skill at all. I was not a good sword user and the dress was still immaculate when I was done.”

Besides, the dress was a reminder of how we had danced just moments before his death. “I miss you already.” I whispered. I found the Rose lying at my feet, her blade covered in blood. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remembered watching a program on TV about the Crusaders and how they always kept their swords spotlessly clean to prevent rust. Looking down at the blade, that was all that I could think of – not the fact that I had possibly killed a guy (although by the look of him, I doubt it). I walked to where a fountain stood at one edge of the garden, dipped part of my dress into the water and wiped away the blood until the sword once again shone.