Veil Synonym Novels & Stories

The veils added an aura of mystique to their actions, their expressions concealed behind the shimmering silver sea silk lace. Joe and Bryan's eyes were transfixed on the veiled princesses as they gracefully proceeded towards the altar. The delicate silver sea silk lace veils added an extra layer of intrigue, obscuring their features and leaving their beauty to the imagination. Clad in ceremonial gowns adorned with shimmering pearls and intricate seashell patterns, the princesses exuded an ethereal radiance that would have took Joe and Bryan's breath away, literally if they hadnt been holding it.

“Every shadow, every whisper, every concealed hand—we perceive them. And we will respond accordingly.” Aera’s gaze fixed on the horizon, where indistinct, shadowed movements suggested unperceived machinations. “The Veil believes they possess the ability to manipulate fear. They are unaware that loyalty can be equally contagious, and courage can be equally potent. The clandestine assault may persist, but the crown is vigilant—and so are we.”

Or like he had heard the news of the death of a loved one. “I don't know what you're talking about, Simon,” Veil said, willing Simon to look at her. “I'm confused.” “Is that another of your ploys?” She looked distraught, her eyes pleading to be understood. “I came here to tell you I was sorry about what you saw. You didn't deserve to get your day ruined by that view.”

Both he and the animal had been frightened by the strange and careless figure of that woman, who was looking at him in dismay and embarrassment at that moment. He could not say she was ugly, since she wore her face hidden under a red veil, but, there was a reason she covered it that way, wasn't there? If he were to judge by the rest of her appearance, then the verdict would be an unattractive woman who should take more care of her appearance. Her long hair was surrounded by that veil, but, even so, it was notoriously careless and tangled, he could compare it to a bird's nest or something like that.

Close enough to smell the faint scent of graphite, fabric, and jasmine clinging to her skin. She didn’t move away anymore when I got close. That realization did something unsettling to my chest. “What’s that one called?” I asked quietly, nodding toward the sketch. Elara tilted the page slightly toward me. A long black coat with sculpted shoulders and hidden inner layers designed to conceal small weapons. “Veil,” she said softly. “It’s supposed to look elegant until you notice how dangerous it actually is.” My eyes lifted slowly to hers. “That sounds familiar.” Her lips curved faintly despite herself.

The air around them darkened. Colors bled from gold into grey, and the distant hum of the Veil grew deeper more violent. Shadows stirred in the corners of the light, whispering in a language that didn’t belong to either of them. “Killian, you don’t understand,” she said, voice trembling. “When I tore the Veil, I didn’t just open a door — I broke something ancient. The Veil isn’t a wall. It’s a prison.” He froze. “A prison for what?”

Switching rein hands, he pulled its twin from a similar position with the same deftness he did the first. Veils. The preferred weapons of the seminary. Every priest had a pair, and while they knew their way around almost any weapon, the veils were always their preferred choice, the weapon of the seminary. No other people used such weapons, and no blacksmith within the realm made such. Owning one when one was not a priest was a sacrilege in and of itself punishable by death.

She looked into the book, although she couldn't read it. "It's called pèplo tis Lítis, translating to The Veil Of Oblivion." Elke's reaction was instant. She gasped and recoiled in horror, her hand flying to her mouth. Every remnant of sleep she felt eluded her immediately as her heart began racing faster than normal. "What did... What did you just say, Sheera?" Sheera's brows pinched in uncertainty. "It's called the Veil Of..." "No, don't repeat it. Don't!" Elke shook her head vehemently, her voice coming out in a husky whisper.

Former runway model and once married to a popular pop star, now chief communications and brand officer of the Hawthorne group and divorced. She was staring back at one of Penelope’s fashion and lifestyle idols. It reminded her that she needed to know why Penelope ran away. Clad in a sleek, caramel-colored leather trench coat held at the waist with a matching belt, Vanessa exuded effortless sophistication. The kind of woman that naturally intimidated Kallista. The coat parted slightly as she moved, revealing a fitted cream silk blouse tucked into high-waist tailored trousers in a rich espresso hue. The straight pleats and precise tailoring of the trousers emphasized her elegant frame.

I did not look at him. Fiancé. The word sat in the room and I let it sit there and examined what I thought about it, which was less than I might have expected and more complicated than I preferred. "They were shopping for wedding dresses," the manager continued. "The jewelry store was their second stop. The veil she was wearing, she had kept it from the bridal shop." I filed this away. The veil from the dreams, the veil the priestess had described, the veil that had been exactly right in every particular, and she had been wearing it because she was shopping for her wedding.