Victorian Tailcoat Novels & Stories

And perhaps, just perhaps, the reason for his hatred was closer to being revealed. *** Victoria left the dining room after breakfast with a determined resolve, her head filled with strategies. She had to regain her strength and some form of control—she couldn't let Helio crush her spirit day after day. Deciding to visit the Desmond residence, Victoria chose her attire with care. She slipped into an elegant, modest black dress, its soft fabric falling gracefully to her calves. The dress had a subtle flare at the hem, its bodice fitted with a square neckline and long, tailored sleeves. A small, tasteful brooch adorned her left shoulder, adding a touch of sophistication to her otherwise underst

I stepped out of Gillian's house and I couldn't help the small laugh that left my mouth when I saw a fancy, white gold royal carriage decorated with beautiful white and red flowers and beautiful children dressed in white. The boys wore white tailcoats with slim trousers and the girls were dressed in cute, floral white gowns. They all had rhododendron 'Quakeress' floral crowns on their heads and held white orchids and roses perfectly mixed with pink azaleas and carnations. The boys' tailcoats were decorated with white and orange flowers.

She didn’t want to argue the point since others at this party thought differently. Following his lead, she looked over his attire—a deep blue waistcoat stretched across his wide chest; a black coat fit his broad shoulders, and black breeches that snugged against his muscular legs perfectly. His shirt and cravat were pristine white, bringing out the skin tones of his face. She nodded her approval. He chuckled and held up his drink as if in a salute.

On moving day, Lucian dug the black tailcoat out from the very bottom of the junk pile. He folded it neatly, put it in a paper bag, then stood looking at that paper bag for a long time. "Not throwing it out?" I asked on purpose. "Keeping it," he said. "Might need it someday." "You still want to be a noble again?" I sneered. "Stop dreaming. You haul cargo now. You don't even have a vampire's power anymore." He didn't fire back. He set the paper bag on the highest shelf, out of reach. Later, while he was gone, I stood on a stool and took it down to look. The tailcoat had been pressed flat, and the spare silver crest at the collar was polished bright.

The queen was of course majestic and beautiful in a regal way. Dressed in dark purple, the finest of it all. Her husband, Thapelo, dressed in a dress coat, embroidered beautifully to stop just above his ankles. Inside had silk pants that were of the finest material. It was like stepping right into a Victorian-era world. “Hey dad, hey mom, how are you people.”

It was Adrian, resplendent in his attire, exuding an air of confident charm that drew her in like a moth to a flame. Adrian's stature commanded attention, standing tall and proud amidst the swirling sea of guests. He wore a tailored black tuxedo that accentuated his broad shoulders and sculpted physique, the epitome of masculine elegance. The deep burgundy accessories adorning his ensemble perfectly matched the color of Amelia's gown, creating an exquisite harmony that seemed almost fated.

His long hair was raised high into a manly bun, his black eyes glowing effortlessly, and his dress, Gosh, was shimmering. He wore a blue tailcoat with gold buttons and tiny glitters of gold at the neck, matching it with black pants. "I know I'm hot, but you don't have to drool like that all over me." His voice brought me back to life, and I hurriedly composed myself. As Alaric walked towards me, I felt my body tense, where we had stopped in the afternoon, coming over to me again. I cleared my throat and took a step back on the staircase, lowering my eyes to the ground,

Silence rented the hall, eyes widened, and mouths opened. Her long hair was let down, almost touching her butt. She was wearing a lilac purple Victorian-inspired gown—elegant, that gave her that noblewoman persona. The corset clinched at the waist, emphasizing her bust and small waist, the puffed sleeves and off-shoulder design adding volume and drama to the historical attire. The netting headpiece covered a part of her face, revealing her heart-shaped lips that were painted black. She looked magnificent and the show was about to go down!

Her fingers nimbly touched silks and fine wools, occasionally selecting an outfit that was directly addressed to Victoria. “Victoria, you must try this on,” Grace said, handing over a burgundy dress. “The cut is perfect for your body.” Victoria looked at the dress skeptically. “Auntie, this is too much,” she muttered, feeling awkward in the middle of a pile of expensive clothes. Grace waved a hand dismissively. “Don't be stupid. Logan would love to see his wife looking good. You deserve it.” Victoria could only look down, holding back a growing sense of unease. She had no idea how to get out of this situation.

He was in one of his trademark all-white outfits—white pants, white suit, white shoes—with the only spot of color being the fur that lined his cloak (a deep, moss-green shade shot through with gold) and the black embroidery of the Royal House of el’Varel’s crest on the back. The first shock of the night was when the Prince held out a hand to assist the lady coming out of the car after him. Nearly everybody expected it would be either Aisha Clearwater or Alisa Vega—or both, since those three were all but inseparable. But instead, a petite redhead in a form-hugging gown of green velvet took the Prince’s hand, and later on his arm which he offered, as they walked down the red carpet. It was obv